Hostile Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  “Kip, too,” Hannah said.

  “That’s half the battle,” Josie muttered as she followed Hannah into the house.

  “No it isn’t,” Hannah assured her.

  11

  Kip Rayburn was nothing to look at. He wasn’t unattractive, simply unmemorable. Light brown hair and not much of it; narrow face and not much to it. He had a slight body that let his clothes hang well but without flair. Yet, Kip Rayburn compensated for his ordinariness. His power was there in the way he stood on the fringe, instead of presenting himself front and center. There was power in his money. There was power now in his nomination.

  “Josie, this is my husband, Kip.”

  Linda touched Josie’s arm, then sh. turned and raised her hand toward her husband. She was a veritable Vanna White in the game of domesticity. Josie had too much to do to play along, so she walked across the huge living room and put out her hand.

  “It’s good to finally meet you. I’m glad we could all get together,” she said.

  Kip did a once over and seemed to frankly find her lacking. He didn’t like her casualness, her athletic and boyish figure, and her less than classic features. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t as impressed with him as everyone else seemed to be these days. Still, he hid his feelings under a thin blanket of hospitality, and smiled perfunctorily.

  “Some of my colleagues know your work. I understand it was impressive,” he said by way of greeting.

  “It still is.” Without waiting to be asked, she sat in a horseshoe chair and put her portfolio at her feet. “Congratulations on your nomination.”

  “Thank you. I hope I can live up to the honor.” Kip settled on the curved sofa and put both his arms across the back. The pose did nothing for him. “I was going to take over a partnership interest in Rayburn & Frank, but public service is a great opportunity.”

  “Your father would be proud if you followed either one, I’m sure.”

  With that, Kip Rayburn changed. One arm came down and rested in his lap, closing him off, the other dropped to the cushion. He crossed his legs. The mention of his father made Kip seem less than master in this house.

  “Linda,” Kip said. “Will you get us something to drink? Hannah could help you.”

  “Sure, honey. What do you want?” Linda asked.

  “A glass of wine.”

  “Josie, what can I get you?”

  “Nothing, thanks.” Josie’s eyes flickered to Hannah.

  Linda stood up and summoned her daughter. “Hannah?”

  “I don’t want anything.” She crossed her legs and sank to the floor next to Josie, close to Josie.

  “Hannah.” Linda was sharp. This was no request; it was a command. Hannah stiffened, sitting up straighter. One finger jumped as it tapped frenetically against her knee. Finally, reluctantly, Hannah acquiesced and followed her mother. Josie waited until they were gone before talking to Kip.

  “Don’t you think keeping liquor here is a little hard for Hannah?” Josie raised a brow.

  “The cabinet’s locked. We’re very clear on the consequences if Hannah steps out of line this time.”

  “I know the conditions of her bail are very specific,” Josie commented, “but it might help her if you simply didn’t have alcohol in the house.”

  “I’m referring to my conditions, Ms. Bates, in my home.”

  Kip’s gaze was steady, his decision final. Josie had underestimated him. Perhaps Davidson had made a good choice in nominating Kip to replace his father. She backed off on Hannah and made small talk instead. She spoke about the house, Fritz’s love of art, the huge black canvases slashed with red that were the judge’s favorites, Fritz’s real estate acumen, Fritz’s. . .

  “Here we are.”

  Linda was back with refreshments, a glass of water for Josie just in case. The only thing missing was Hannah.

  “Shouldn’t this be a family meeting?” Josie asked.

  “It is,” Kip answered and Josie understood. Hannah was Cinderella but instead of ashes and stepsisters it was Kip and sand dunes.

  Linda settled herself next to her husband. Her long legs were crossed at the ankles, her hand rested on his thigh. Square cut diamond earrings winked brilliantly as she moved and settled and still couldn’t seem to find a comfortable place next to Kip.

  “Ms. Bates,” Kip began. “No matter what the court says, Hannah is still a child and a very disturbed one at that. She is good at letting you see what she wants you to see. The point is, Hannah is ill and she is our responsibility. Her problems are deep, chronic and unresolved. The girl needs intensive therapy, and that’s what we intend to see she gets.”

  “Kip, we shouldn’t overstate the situation.” Linda broke in but Kip quieted his wife, tightening his grip on her hand. Linda gave no indication that she felt it as she addressed Josie. There was still some of the old Linda left, the woman who had a mind of her own.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hannah when I first came to see you, Josie. I don’t like to admit how disturbed she is. Things have been awful since she found out she has to stand trial. She’s cutting herself more often.” Linda glanced at Kip and now her hand curled around his. They were together again. “We don’t believe she will be able to make it through a trial.”

  “I’ve made some inquiries regarding a plea bargain.” Kip took over. Josie remained impassive, her heart hardening with each word spoken. “I believe the District Attorney would be open to that. I think a plea bargain would be in everyone’s best interest.”

  The silence was palpable in the glass house with the high ceilings. It wafted upward like heat, leaving the space between Josie and the Rayburns. It was a frigid, unwelcoming place.

  “Really? And what are the conditions of your plea?” Josie asked quietly.

  “Care, not incarceration, is what we’re after,” Kip answered.

  “That’s what you want, Linda?” Josie asked.

  Linda got up, unable to look Josie in the eye. She walked toward the tall windows that opened onto the beach. Her reflection in the glass was ephemeral: hands lengthening as they wrung together, face contorting into a rubbery mask of grief, her body a watery column of sky blue silk. Her back was to Josie. That was a dangerous position to be in because Josie’s outrage was as sharp as a dagger. But her anger was meant for Kip Rayburn. He was like the kid who plays hide-and-seek, then rats on everyone so he can win the game. When Linda muttered her agreement, Josie turned on Kip.

  “Do you believe Hannah killed your father?”

  “No. No we don’t.” Linda was quicker than her husband but he weighed in.

  “I didn’t say that,” Kip insisted.

  “Then you have no faith in my ability to defend your daughter,” Josie pushed. “Is that it?”

  “No.” Kip said.

  “Of course not . . .” Linda walked around the couch, trailing the thought into nothingness as she sat down next to her husband. “Josie, our decision has nothing to do with you.”

  “Well it must if you feel that your husband has to act as counsel and discuss a plea behind my back. I didn’t realize you were a criminal attorney, Mr. Rayburn.”

  “I’m not, but I understand that there are always options in any trial. I believe if you can expedite a matter to the benefit of everyone concerned, then it should be done.”

  “And that’s just going to be a fine attitude on the bench, isn’t it?” Josie drawled sarcastically. “Forget justice. Forget the question of innocence or guilt. You’ll just make sure everyone’s happy by making problems go away.”

  “Josie, please. This is about what’s good for Hannah,” Linda cried.

  “No it isn’t. In fact, I don’t exactly know what this is about.” Josie leaned on the arm of her chair and pointed with one hand at Kip Rayburn. “And if you’re so all fired up and determined to do what’s right for Hannah, where were you when she needed your help? The night she was arrested, for instance? The day of the bail hearing when, for your informatio
n, I already flew that plea balloon past Rudy Klein. He wouldn’t even discuss it. Where were you then?”

  “I was mourning my father, Ms. Bates, and I don’t appreciate you questioning my motives. My concern is for my wife, myself and, yes, my stepdaughter. If you question that, then why don’t you convince me that you can prevail if we go to trial?”

  “Why don’t you ask me to walk on water?” Josie threw up her hands. “I’ve had the discovery documents less than a week. If you want me to lay out a defense I can’t do it, but I can tell you there are problems with the prosecution. Klein hasn’t asked that lesser charges be considered. That means he will have to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Hannah intended to kill Fritz, and I’ll make that damn near impossible for him.”

  Kip scoffed, “That’s too simplistic. Nothing is ever certain with a jury trial.”

  “Kip’s right. Nearly impossible isn’t good enough,” Linda murmured. Her green eyes clicked a notch to look past Josie’s shoulder. Josie tried to engage her again.

  “But, Linda, if we plead out Hannah still goes to jail.”

  “That’s not what we want,” Linda said quietly. “We don’t want her in jail at all.”

  Josie pulled back, surprised and curious.

  “What do you think could happen? What do you think they would do with her? Slap her wrists and tell her not to play with matches?”

  “Hannah can be remanded to a psychiatric facility for treatment. She’ll plead no contest to arson and reckless endangerment in the death of my father.” Kip was firm. He spoke for both of them yet, unlike Linda, his face was as blank and transparent as the end sheet of a book. “It would be best for everyone. Linda and I both agree.”

  Josie’s elbow was cocked on the arm of the chair. She cradled her chin and looked at the two on the couch. Finally, she shook her head and dropped her hand.

  “No. I won’t let her plead out to a sentence in a state run psychiatric facility. I’m sorry.”

  Josie started to get up, but Kip stopped her with a warning.

  “You don’t have a choice here, Ms. Bates.”

  “But I do have a voice. Linda gave it to me when she retained me. Listen, if you put Hannah in a place like that she’ll never get well. She will be locked up with women who are certifiably insane. Hannah may have problems, but there is no way you can put behavioral difficulties on a par with schizophrenia and homicidal . . .”

  Josie paused and sat up just a little straighter. She’d almost missed it. She slid her eyes Kip’s way.

  “This isn’t about Hannah. It’s about you, isn’t it? You’re worried about your confirmation, so you’re going to sacrifice Hannah. Is that it?”

  “I resent that.” Linda half rose from the sofa but Kip held her back. She shook him off hard. “I’m the one that begged you to take this case, and that should prove I’m worried about my daughter. A trial will jeopardize Hannah’s mental health and that’s what we’re concerned about. Period.”

  Josie opened her mouth to argue, but before she could Kip asked the million-dollar question.

  “How do you know she didn’t murder my father?” Kip asked quietly.

  “Because she said so in court,” Josie pointed out.

  “How do you know she didn’t set the fire that resulted in my father’s death?”

  Josie understood the implication. Setting the fire without knowing Fritz was in the house would be a lesser offense and, indeed, Josie could plea bargain down on that. But she knew something they didn’t.

  “It doesn’t matter. Death in the commission of arson doesn’t apply here.” Josie looked straight at Kip Rayburn. “Your father sustained a head wound before the fire started.”

  “Hannah hit him? She attacked my father?” Kip stuttered in disbelief.

  “We don’t know who hit him.” Josie answered honestly. “It could have happened in a fall and then we could argue death in the commission of arson. But Rudy Klein believes it was a deliberate assault. That’s why a satisfactory plea is going to be nearly impossible. Your only choice is to let me build a defense. Hannah is entitled to that, at least.”

  “You can take all your entitlement crap and shove it,” Kip shot back.

  “Kip, please,” Linda pleaded, but Kip was on a roll. He ignored her, intent on Josie as if she were responsible for the demon child in their midst.

  “From the very beginning we’ve had to wonder if Hannah set that fire, now we have to think that she may have beaten him? This is too much, Linda. I’m not going to have this woman waltz in here and tell us that we’re heartless and self-centered if we don’t do what she says. I know Cooper will work with us and that’s what I want.” Kip paced, so angered he could hardly contain himself.

  “But there’s a good chance she’ll be acquitted,” Josie objected as he threw himself onto the sofa, pushing into a corner of the couch.

  “Then prove it to me now. Prove that, and we’ll go to trial. If you can’t, then I have to believe Hannah’s a murderer and we are at risk if you get her off. The fact that you’re talented enough to do that makes my blood run cold.”

  Josie was incredulous. What kind of demand was this? Show me the killer; Hannah can be free. It was appalling; a black and white demand with no room to maneuver. Even in court Josie would never have to find an alternative perpetrator.

  “My job is to prove that Hannah didn’t murder your father, not find out who did. You’re acting like Hannah is a natural born killer. She’s never been violent before, has she?”

  “Stop pretending.” Kip stood up quickly. His leg hit the coffee table. The glasses shuddered. One fell, spilling the wine over the glass top. “She cuts herself up like a piece of meat. I’d say that’s violent.”

  “Hannah hurts herself, not other people.” Josie snapped her head toward Linda. “Linda, for God’s sake, there would have been something big before this. Hannah would have killed small animals, torn the wings off butterflies.”

  Kip whirled and leaned on the empty chair next to Josie’s.

  “You’re not a psychiatrist. We’ve spoken to her doctor a thousand times. And what does he say? He says ‘well, I don’t think she’s dangerous, but these situations are unpredictable.’” Kip’s mimic of the doctor was cruel, and his next words bitter. “If he doesn’t know, how in the hell do you?”

  His plain face morphed as he pushed away from the chair. He was in charge. He was driven, determined to have his way.

  “We’re telling you we need this resolved now. We are the ones responsible for her. We’re the ones who have to live with her, not you.”

  Josie stood up. Kip Rayburn didn’t have enough game to shut her down. She didn’t care whose son he was, or who he was about to become.

  “I’m Hannah’s attorney and, as such, I am responsible for the welfare of my client. So let me tell you what I know. Hannah won’t last a minute if she serves a sentence in a psychiatric facility. You think she’s got problems now? Just wait until they release her someday and she shows up on your doorstep. I guarantee you won’t turn your lights off at night. Or are you one of those bleeding hearts that think criminals actually go into those places for treatment?”

  Josie’s hands punctuated every word that came out of her mouth. She whipped toward Linda and back to Kip, trying to find one who would stand with her for Hannah.

  “Those places are dark, third rate institutions where overworked doctors make out reports and prescribe electroshock and pills that will keep Hannah so doped up she won’t even know when one of the low life orderlies decides she looks like prime pickings. So he’ll rape her, and she won’t even know it. Or another inmate will…”

  “Stop it! Josie, stop it!” Horrified, Linda cried out as she buried her face in her hands. It was Josie who got to her first. She took Linda’s hands in her own and forced them down.

  “Linda, listen to me.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Kip rushed to the sofa. Josie met him head on, daring him to interfere.

  “Back
off,” she growled, tired of him now. “Linda, look at me. This is your daughter’s life. It’s not a game. It’s deadly serious and what you do now is going to affect her whole life, Linda. You’re her mother for God’s sake. Do you really think she did something she should go to jail for?”

  Linda’s bright eyes darted everywhere, searching for the right answer. Her lips parted – pink, pink lips – but it was hard for her to speak. She turned those eyes toward her husband, but Josie put one hand to Linda’s cheek and made her focus on the question.

  “Do you want Hannah to suffer?” Josie whispered angrily, pushing for a decision.

  “I don’t want her in jail for something she didn’t do,” Linda answered back with words that were dry and fragile. Josie chased after them, collecting Linda’s wishes like fall leaves and bringing them back to drop in Linda’s lap.

  “Then don’t throw her away. Don’t abandon her. A mother can’t do anything worse than that.”

  Linda glanced at Kip. She hung her head and curved toward Josie. They were a conspiracy of two, excluding Kip. This was between them, women who understood a child’s life was at stake.

  “Can you win?” Linda whispered, and the undercurrent of absolute terror didn’t escape Josie’s notice. She felt it, too.

  “I’ll give it everything I’ve got, Linda. Your gut said to trust me, so trust your gut now.” There was a heartbeat of silence, a bubble of apprehension surrounded Josie and Linda. Josie held tighter, whispered more urgently. “Let me try.”

  Linda slid one hand from Josie’s and then the other. She put her fingers to her lips. They trembled. From behind them she called to her husband who stood apart, his eyes shuttered, his body taut.

  “Kip?”

  “You decide, Linda. She’s your daughter.”

  Josie closed her eyes. Those words were so cruel, so unnecessary. She willed Kip Rayburn to give his wife a sign that he would stand beside her. He didn’t. Linda would have to stand on her own. She did it well.

  “I want you to try, Josie. I owe Hannah so much.”

  Josie dropped her head. Linda’s pain of indecision was real, but Josie couldn’t believe there was even a choice here. If Hannah were her daughter, Kip Rayburn would have eaten their dust.