Out on the Sound

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Out on the Sound Page 29

by R. E. Bradshaw


  The judge spoke, he could definitely spot a liar, “I remind you that you sir, are under oath.”

  Tommy sighed and said under his breath, “Yes, I knew.”

  Molly wasn’t about to let the answer go unheard in the back row. “I’m sorry, you need to speak up. Please repeat your answer.”

  Tommy was done covering for his friend, “Yes, I knew Jim was a pervert. I just never thought he’d go that far.”

  The prosecutor looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Molly took a long poignant look into the gallery. The horde had to be quieted again. This time the judge threatened to clear the room. Molly didn’t need Tommy to recant his testimony about what happened on the boat. The damage had been done; he had said exactly what Molly wanted him to. She was finished with him.

  The prosecutor huddled with the lawyers on the other side of the aisle. He stood up and called the assistant district attorney, who had repeatedly dropped the charges against Jim Bagley, to the stand. He testified that insufficient evidence had been the reason for the dropping all of charges, after the several initial arrests of Mr. Bagley. The prosecutor must have thought that would be the end of it, but he had never tangled with Molly.

  Molly approached the lectern again with a different pad full of notes. “I have only a few questions for you sir. First, you have political aspirations; in fact, you are running for District Attorney next year. Is that correct?”

  “I don’t see why that has…” The prosecution took the cue and objected.

  Molly answered the objection with, “It goes to credibility of the witness your honor.”

  “I’ll allow it,” the judge said. Decky was beginning to think Molly had charmed the judge. So far, so good on the objections.

  “Yes, I am running a campaign for District Attorney.”

  Molly smiled and said in that sweet southern drawl, “I only have one more question,” she paused for effect, “Who are the largest contributors to your campaign? Just name the top three. That will be fine.”

  “I don’t recall,” came the answer.

  Molly pulled some papers out that had been earlier placed in the back of the legal pad. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said, handing the witness, the prosecutor and the judge a copy of the paper she was now holding. “It is a matter of public record, and as you see here, I have your fundraising statistics. Let me help you recall. Looking at the document, and refreshing your memory, am I correct in finding that Mr. and Mrs. Bagley along with their son, James Bagley, and Bagley Enterprises are the top three contributors to your upcoming campaign?”

  The man on the stand went white. He was about to admit to tampering on the stand and he knew it. He finally said in a defeated voice, “Yes, you are correct.”

  Done. Molly was ready to move on. The next witness was a man Decky did not recognize. His name was one she had not recognized on the witness list. Don Stedman looked like what he probably was, a day laboring drunk, who hung out at the bar. Still young enough to change, he looked much older around the eyes. Too many years ago, he lost his hope in a bottle.

  Don testified that he was in the bar when Charlie came up and stood beside him. He had heard her ask the now dead man if he would like to follow her home for some rough sex. He remembered, because he would have gone, if the guy had said no. The prosecutor seemed gun shy to let Don talk anymore. He turned the witness over to the defense.

  Molly left the table with no pad in hand. Once again charming, she questioned Don, “Mr. Stedman, if you could, would you tell me what the defendant in question was wearing the night you saw her in the bar, standing right beside you, I believe you said?”

  Don froze. He had nothing. Finally, he recovered enough to say he didn’t remember.

  “But Mr. Stedman, you testified that this really hot chick came and stood right beside you and offered rough sex to the man next to you.” Molly backed away from the table pointing at Charlie, “Are you telling the court that this extremely attractive woman stood beside you and you cannot remember what she was wearing? Why Mr. Stedman, boys around home would be talking about that down to the last detail for days, if it had happened to them.”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained. Is there a question, Ms. Kincaid?” The judge asked Molly.

  “Withdrawn. I don’t need to question this witness any further.” Molly was setting them up and mowing them down.

  The prosecution asked that Molly’s last remarks be stricken from the record. It didn’t matter. Everyone had heard them clearly.

  The prosecution rested. The summation was rendered then. Decky thought the man was scared he wouldn’t get another chance to tell people why they were even there to begin with. He went back over the evidence that pointed to guilt on the part of the defendants. Decky had been proven through testimony to be a dangerous, jealous lesbian, and prone to violence. Charlie was seen in the bar offering perverted sex to the victim. Decky’s father had only helped cover it up, after misunderstanding the situation and shooting the victim.

  The victim had in fact been invited to the home and in a jealous rage; Decky had attacked first Charlie and then Mr. Bagley. R.C. had reacted to what he had seen as his daughter in danger, but was she really? The timeline afforded Decky the time to send R.C. back home and call the twins, before calling the police. It had been a woman’s voice on the 911 call. It sounded an awful lot like Decky Bradshaw. Last but not least, the most important fact, the gun being held on Decky was not loaded. She was never in danger. She knew it and that’s why she had to cover it up. Charlie had gone along for the money and her father had gone along out of misguided fatherly love.

  Molly did not ask for the customary dismissal of all charges. She had promised the girls their day in court and they would have it. The judge appeared to want to complete witness statements today. Molly only had four witnesses listed. He called a recess of ten minutes and warned everyone to be back on time.

  Decky, Charlie and R.C. left Molly at the defense table shuffling papers and stepped out into the hallway. Decky needed some fresh air. They ended up on a bench outside facing the water, their backs turned to the door. The wind was blowing in off the sound. If Decky closed her eyes, she could pretend she was at home. Charlie’s voice brought her back to reality.

  “Decky, no matter what your mother thinks about us, she won’t let her husband go to jail for something he did not do.”

  R.C. excused himself, to speak to someone.

  “I still blame her for all of this. I don’t care what she says.”

  Charlie was calm and patient, but she spoke her mind, “Your mother did no more cause this than you or I did. You did not consider her feelings at all. You let her find out about us from the rumor mill. You never once have considered how that had to make her feel. She was hurt Decky, but I can’t believe your mother wants anything but to see you safe and happy. Give her time.”

  Decky had been intently studying a patch of clover the whole time Charlie was talking. She lifted her eyes and saw her mother standing behind Charlie. Lizzie turned around and went back into the courthouse. Decky didn’t tell Charlie that Lizzie had been there. How much had she heard of what Charlie had said? What had she heard Decky say? R.C. came to get them at that moment and they went back to the defense table.

  Molly had set up an easel. It had an eleven by seventeen blank sheet of paper covering other pages underneath. Charlie was the first witness called. Upon taking the stand, Molly asked Charlie to tell the judge what had happened that night, beginning with the dinner in town. Charlie told the story as she had so many times. She saw Jim Bagley at the restaurant when he came to the table, to speak to an acquaintance of his. She remembered him from the boating incident, and by the way, that had happened nothing like Tommy had testified. Jim Bagley had recognized her too, though he said nothing at the time. She simply forgot about him and left later. She saw him at the bar when she was leaving. She stopped to get gas. She went to the cottage and he attacked her. When Charlie stopped, Molly gest
ured to Charlie to continue. She obliged, telling in graphic detail exactly what happened to her before Decky came in and what happened to them both, up until she heard the gun shot.

  “Ms. Warren, is this the gas receipt from the night in question?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. It is time stamped.”

  “Let the record show the receipt time stamp reads exactly twenty-five minutes before the deputy testified the alarm company called Ms. Bradshaw at 8:48 pm.”

  Molly stepped over to the easel. She removed the top piece of paper, revealing a close up of Charlie’s face on the night of the beating. She asked Charlie if she remembered when and where the photograph was taken. Charlie answered her. The two of them went through a series of photos of Charlie in the same manner.

  The bruises were horrible and the cuts grotesque. Decky hadn’t seen them so vividly before. She must have only seen the Charlie underneath the bruises. She had not wanted to see all the damage on the surface. A tear rolled down her cheek. She let it fall on her silk shirt, unable to move, her eyes fixed on the photos.

  Molly turned Charlie over to the prosecution. He seemed un-interested in the night of the attack. He began by questioning Charlie about her and Decky’s behavior at the party. When he got to the incident with Lynne, his motive was clear.

  “Ms. Warren, did you see Ms. Bradshaw strike Lynne Harper that night.”

  Charlie started to reply, “Yes, but she…”

  He cut her off. “Just answer yes or no Ms. Warren. Now on the occasion of your moving into the cottage, did Ms. Bradshaw burn any of your property?”

  “Yes,” Charlie had learned her lesson.

  “Did she in fact burn your mattresses believing them to be the ones you had slept on with Lynne Harper?” He was twisting everything.

  “Yes,” Charlie looked helpless.

  “Let’s address another area. You were living in the residence of Ms. Bradshaw at the time of the alleged attack. Is that correct?”

  “What do you mean living with her?” Charlie was fighting back.

  “Sleeping in her bed, with her, to make it clear.”

  “Yes.”

  “You had clothing and personal items along with your cat there at Ms. Bradshaw’s residence. Why did you stop at the cottage late at night by yourself? Why enter a dark cottage alone? Why not wait until the next day? Is it because nothing was wrong with the lights and you planned to meet Mr. Bagley there for sex?”

  Molly stood up to object, but Charlie handled it just fine. “Which question would you like me to answer yes or no to?”

  “Withdrawn.”

  “Now Ms. Warren, what if anything did you see in the living room area just prior to the shot being fired?”

  “I was behind a counter, I couldn’t see.”

  “So you could not see what was actually happening on the other side of the counter?”

  “No.” Charlie wanted to say so much. Decky could see it on her face.

  “Have you paid Ms. Bradshaw any money on the cottage? Is there a rental agreement or lease?”

  “No.”

  “Ms. Bradshaw has in fact spent quite a bit of money on you in the previous month?”

  “Yes.”

  Decky thought how stupid she had been for spending so much money on Charlie. Then she remembered why she had done it and wasn’t one bit sorry. She wanted to spend money on Charlie. Charlie didn’t need anything she couldn’t buy herself. Decky bought things that brought joy to them both.

  “One last question, did you have sex with Lynne Harper when she was in town a week before the party?”

  Charlie was out of the chair. She stood up as tall as her five foot three inch frame could stretch. Out of all the things Charlie had been accused of, this one made her furious.

  “I most certainly did not!”

  The prosecutor rested. Molly began redirect.

  “Ms. Warren, what kind of car do you drive?”

  Charlie looked confused, but answered, “A 2007 BMW 335i convertible.”

  Molly acted impressed, “That’s a really nice car. Did you purchase this car before you met Ms. Bradshaw?”

  Charlie caught on quickly, “Yes, I purchased it with part of my savings and some of the proceeds from the sale of my home in Louisiana.”

  “Ms Warren, why did you go to the cottage that night?” Molly was allowing Charlie to say the things she wanted to.

  “I went there because we were going to the beach the next day, and I needed some things that were still packed away at the cottage.”

  “Now, the prosecutor asked you if you saw anything of the fight just before the gun went off. You said no. Could you tell us if you heard anything?”

  “Dixie, the dog, jumped on the backdoor causing the man to fall against the doorframe, then Decky went for him. He easily slammed her into the other part of the room where I could not see. I heard Dixie growl. I heard slamming and banging around. Then I heard the man scream. I heard Dixie yelp and whimper. The next thing I remember that really sticks out is Decky telling Dixie to stop attacking and come behind the counter. Decky told the decedent he would have to kill her if he wanted to get to me. He told her he was going to kill her, but first he was going to make her…”

  Molly was gentle when she asked Charlie to go on.

  Charlie swallowed hard and looked right at Decky during the rest of her testimony. “He told her he was going to make her suck his …dick, while I watched, his words not mine. Then he said when he was through with Decky he was going to …fuck me and kill us all, including the dog.”

  “One last question, why do you think Decky Bradshaw told him he would have to kill her first before he could get to you again? You had known each other less than two weeks, at the time.”

  Charlie was still looking at Decky. “Because, she is an honorable person who would lay down her life for others and because she loves me.”

  Molly turned to the judge, “I’m done with this witness your honor. The defense calls R.C. Bradshaw to the stand.”

  Charlie stood and retook her seat beside Decky. Decky said nothing, just took Charlie’s hand and held it tightly.

  R.C. walked head held high to the witness stand. Molly had him tell a little about himself. When he had finished a short biography, Molly began to weave her tale.

  “So you have lived in the Albemarle area all of your life, except for the time you were in college, is that correct?”

  R.C. was giving her his full attention. They might as well have been in the room alone. He was a smart man. He knew not to look around the room, not unless he wanted to. He answered the question with one word, as he had been told to do.

  “Yes.”

  “You were a math teacher and coach before becoming a school principal, I believe you said.” She knew exactly what he had said. “You ought to be pretty good with maps, distances and time with that background. I ask you then, how long does it take to get from the gas station, Ms. Warren stopped at, to the cottage she recently moved into?”

  “That drive can take you thirty to thirty-five minutes. It would vary according to speed, but that’s about average.”

  Molly showed him the gas receipt. “Do you see the time stamp on this receipt and would you read it to the court?”

  R.C. put his reading glasses on. This caused chuckles from the gallery. He looked out over the top of his glasses at the crowd, with that principal’s stare. The gallery again became quiet. “It says here 8:23 p.m.”

  “Now, we have heard testimony that the alarm company called your daughter at 8:48 p.m., exactly 25 minutes after the time stamped on the gas receipt. We have also seen evidence, namely your daughter’s phone records, showing a call to the twins, as they are so fondly called.” A rumble of laughter waved through the gallery. “The twins were called at 8:56 p.m., eight minutes after the alarm call. At what time did the twins arrive at your house?”

  “It was 9:02 p.m. I have a habit of looking at the clock,” he explained.

  “What time did yo
u arrive at the cottage?”

  “Well that particular time I wasn’t watching the clock. I suppose it took me ten minutes to get there. About 9:12, I reckon.”

  “Mr. Bradshaw, we heard testimony that the 911 call came in at 9:16 p.m. Who made the call?”

  R. C. straightened in the chair. He cast his eyes amongst the spectators. He dared anybody to make a sound with his eyes. He knew Lizzie was a source of much grief and ridicule, but she was his. “My wife, Elizabeth Bradshaw.”

  “Now, Mr. Bradshaw, the prosecution has agreed that you shot the deceased in what you thought was the defense of your daughter. You are being accused of a cover-up. Is there anything you think the prosecutor overlooked, other than the timeline, which we will get to in a minute, a missed piece of evidence maybe?”

 

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