The Wife Who Knew Too Much

by Michele Campbell

  We merged onto the highway, heading out toward Long Island. The rain was heavy for a bit, and nobody spoke. But once it let up, Hagerty started working on me, trying to get me to talk.

  “So, Tabitha, that must’ve been a shock, us meeting you at the airport, huh?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “I’m sorry if we frightened you. And I’m really sorry you fainted. I understand you might be expecting?”

  He tried to catch my eye in the rearview mirror. I stared out the window.

  “Look, though, I just want to explain where we were coming from. We have some pretty heavy evidence against you. We were just working through it, deciding whether to seek a warrant, when we learned you left the country. I’m wondering if it was your idea to skip town? Or was it Connor’s?”

  I saw what he was doing. Either way I answered would implicate someone. I could try to exonerate myself by giving up Connor. Or I could protect my husband at my own expense. The entrapment was so obvious that I felt a surge of rage. I was determined not to repeat the experience I’d had with the police last time. I’d played into their hands, and taken a plea for something I knew I didn’t do. I wouldn’t be such a patsy this time. I had to use my wits and fight back. But carefully, so I didn’t give them anything they could use against me in court.

  “What evidence?” I asked.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “What exactly is the evidence you claim to have against me?”

  “I think you know.”

  “If you tell me what your evidence is, I’ll talk to you. If you don’t, I’ll ask for a lawyer.”

  Hagerty and Pardo exchanged glances.

  “Where were you the night Nina Levitt was killed?” Pardo said.

  Pardo’s question told me two things. One, they knew I’d been at Windswept that night. And two, they now believed that Nina had been murdered.

  “I’m assuming you don’t have any actual evidence against me, or you’d tell me?” I said.

  They looked at each other again.

  “That’s an incorrect assumption,” Pardo said. “We couldn’t get a warrant without evidence. So, you know, you really should cooperate.”

  “I don’t believe you. I think you arrested me because of something you read on ChitChat, and you’re hoping I’ll confess to killing Nina, when I didn’t,” I said.

  I sounded more defiant than I felt. Her point about needing evidence to get a warrant seemed plausible to me. They must have told the judge something. What was it? Presumably that I’d been at Windswept that night. That didn’t prove my guilt, but it didn’t look good, either. It felt hot in the car suddenly, and sweat broke out on my forehead. I had no way to lower the window, but I didn’t want to ask them to do it because then they’d know they were getting to me. If I felt trapped, it’s because I was trapped. My fate was in their hands, and they already believed I was guilty. Nothing I could say would change their minds, so best to stay silent. I pressed my lips together into a hard line.

  “I heard you say you want to see your husband,” Hagerty said. “That won’t be possible tonight just because of the hour. But, you know, I wanted to raise the idea that seeing him might not be good for you right now. I’m not sure Connor has your best interests at heart.”

  He caught my attention with that last remark. I turned back from the window and met his eyes in the mirror.

  “He’s planning to get you a lawyer,” Hagerty said. “Ask yourself, Tabitha—who will that lawyer work for? You? Or Connor?”

  That got under my skin. Hagerty was suggesting that Connor might set me up. I couldn’t believe he would do that. Yet, if I was honest with myself, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that he was involved somehow in Nina’s death. The police no longer believed that she committed suicide. My arrest proved that. My arrest. Why me, when I was innocent? When Connor might not be? Maybe Hagerty had a point.

  “You asked what our evidence is,” Pardo said. “We think you two were in on this together. Admit what you did, testify against Connor, and we might cut you a break. That’s your best bet.”

  They wanted me to testify against him. But, just like with Derek, I had nothing to offer. I didn’t know how Nina died, because I wasn’t involved in killing her. If Connor was, I knew nothing about it. I might have my suspicions. But that’s all they were—suspicions. What if he was innocent, too? I still loved him. I was carrying his child. I couldn’t let myself be maneuvered into implicating him in a murder that he might not have committed.

  “I had nothing to do with Nina Levitt’s death,” I said. “I don’t know anything about it. You’re asking me to lie, to invent evidence that doesn’t exist.”

  In the rearview mirror, Hagerty looked alarmed. Pardo shot me an annoyed glance.

  “She’s playing games,” Pardo said.

  “You’re the ones playing games—with people’s lives,” I said. “I told you I’m innocent. Instead of taking my word for it, you’re trying to get me to set up my husband. You’re asking me to lie.”

  “That right there is going to wreck your chance at a plea deal,” Pardo said.

  “I don’t want a plea deal from you, and I don’t need one. I’m innocent. You’re only doing this because of a tabloid story. And that story is a lie. Your case is based on nothing. It’s made up out of thin air. I see no point in talking to you when your minds are closed against me. That’s all I have to say. Now, I choose to remain silent. I want a lawyer.”

  31

  I spent a few sleepless hours in a freezing holding cell before being transported to court, where I was placed in another freezing holding cell to wait for a lawyer. I hadn’t showered since Dubai, and I’d had nothing to eat. I had to wait to use the bathroom until a female officer was available. I was desperate to talk to Connor, but they wouldn’t let me make a phone call. I couldn’t wait to get to court, so I could talk to him. I didn’t understand what was happening, and why they’d arrested me for Nina’s murder. But Connor would know. He’d have a lawyer with him. They’d have information, a plan, a change of clothes. They’d get me out of this nightmarish place.

  Hours passed. Nobody would tell me what the schedule was. The uncertainty sent me into a kind of grim coma. I was practically catatonic, so exhausted that I tried to sleep on the hard, grimy metal bench. At least, as the only female prisoner going to court that day, I had a small cell to myself. The female guard came back with a plastic cup of water and a ham sandwich. She told me to hurry up and eat because my lawyer was waiting for me in the courtroom.

  “Don’t I get to talk to him before we go to court?”

  The guard shrugged.

  Ten minutes later, I was brought in an elevator to a crowded courtroom, where I was seated in the jury box with two male prisoners. One was muscular and heavily tattooed. The other was slight, much older, and might’ve looked distinguished had he not been unshaven and wearing prison blues. They both nodded politely to me.

  The judge, an African-American woman who wore pearls over her black robe, was already on the bench, hearing another case. The courtroom was full, but I didn’t see the one face I was searching for. Connor must be here somewhere. Maybe he was in the hallway, talking to my lawyer.

  A woman approached the jury box and leaned down to whisper. She had a round face and dimples and looked younger than I did.

  “Hey, Tabitha, I’m Courtney McCarthy. I’m a lawyer for Levitt Global. Your husband asked me to represent you today at your bail hearing.”

  “Oh, thank God. Where is he?”

  I craned my neck to see past her, scanning the benches for Connor.

  “He asked me to send his apologies. He couldn’t make it to this hearing.”

  Anxiety beat in my chest. First like a flutter, then, as I absorbed her words, like the roar of a giant wave.

  “What? No! No, that’s not possible. I’m in jail. How could he just leave me here?”

  She glanced up at the bench nervously, motioning with her hand for me to keep my voice
down.

  “I’m sorry. He didn’t share his reason with me. There is kind of a media circus outside the courthouse right now. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be helpful for him to contribute to that?”

  “I’m arrested for murder, and he doesn’t show up to court because he’s afraid of getting his picture taken?”

  What could that mean? Was he abandoning me? Did he believe I was guilty? I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I doubled over, holding my stomach, tears prickling behind my eyes.

  “You go call him. Call him right now. Tell him I need him here.”

  “Uh, I’m worried they’ll call the case when I’m out, and I’ll get in trouble with the judge.”

  “What are you, five years old? Do it.”

  She flushed. “Fine, if you insist.”

  She left the courtroom, returning mere moments later.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get through,” she whispered.

  “Did you really try?”

  “Yes, I tried. And look, I know it’s disappointing, but he’s very busy.”

  “He’s my fucking husband, and I’m arrested for murder. What reason could he possibly have for not showing up?”

  “I’d be speculating to answer that. I honestly don’t know the reason. Looking on the bright side, I’m here, so you’re represented. Though I ought to advise you, I’m really a corporate attorney. My only criminal background is one course in law school, and I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be smarter to—”

  The judge pounded her gavel, glaring at my lawyer. “Silence. We’re conducting a hearing here, Counselor.”

  Courtney blushed crimson. “I apologize, Your Honor, but I needed to speak to my client, so—”

  “If you wanted to talk to your client, you should’ve asked the marshal to let you back to the holding cell. You don’t take up my time in my courtroom. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do it again, and I’ll sanction you. Now, sit down.”

  My lawyer slunk away and took a seat in the back. I couldn’t help remembering Hagerty’s words in the car last night. Ask yourself, Tabitha—who will that lawyer work for? You? Or Connor? I had to face the facts. Connor was not here for me, and that was a bad sign. The lawyer he’d sent seemed barely qualified, and that was an even worse sign. I wouldn’t have the advice I needed to defend myself against the charges. For some reason, Connor didn’t want me to defend myself. Could he be washing his hands of me, because he believed I was guilty? Or—worse, to the point of being unthinkable—could he be guilty himself, and looking for me to take the blame in his place?

  “That one’s out of her league,” the tattooed guy said under his breath. “You say they got you up on a murder charge?”

  “That’s what they said when they arrested me last night. I can’t believe it. I’m completely innocent.”

  He shook his head. “That’s some heavy shit, sister. And that lawyer you got is green as grass. Is she the best your husband could do?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not here. I can’t believe he’s not here to support me.”

  “That shit happens all the time. I’m lucky my girlfriend stuck by me. Plenty of guys get dumped the second they get locked up.”

  He blew a kiss to a young woman sitting in the stands, who took the hand of the toddler sitting in her lap and waved it at my seatmate. I’d done just what he was talking about—dumped Derek when he was in jail. He deserved it. For lying to me, getting me arrested, being an abusive jerk. But in my weakened state, I started thinking this was karma, and my eyes misted over. I would never have a decent life. Connor wasn’t here for me. He’d abandoned me in my moment of need, possibly for nefarious reasons. Our marriage was over. My baby would be born in prison. Hysteria was building inside me. I felt like screaming or beating my head against the wall.

  The older prisoner was staring at me. I raised my manacled hands to wipe away a tear.

  “What are you looking at?” I said defiantly.

  “I’m feeling sorry for you, young lady. You need to get yourself a better lawyer right away. This is a very serious predicament you’re in. It would be a huge mistake to rely on someone inexperienced in criminal law.”

  “You’re right. But what can I do?”

  “The public defender ain’t half bad,” the tattooed prisoner interjected.

  The older man looked me up and down. My jewelry had been taken and catalogued when they booked me. But I still wore my street clothes from the plane, complete with the cashmere shawl from the duty free.

  “I doubt she qualifies for free legal assistance,” the older man said.

  “Not if they count my husband’s money, I don’t.”

  “Then you can pay?”

  “He can. But the fact that he sent this Levitt Global lawyer makes me wonder if he plans to.”

  “Levitt Global. I’m familiar with that company. Who’s your husband?”

  “His name is Connor Ford. He’s—”

  The judge rapped her gavel again.

  “Marshals, separate those prisoners immediately.”

  Two guards marched up to the jury box. One of them grabbed my arm and hustled me into the back row. The other prodded the tattooed prisoner to move over several seats, then took the older man out of the box and brought him to the defense table up front. I’d already felt alone, but now my spirits plummeted. My jailhouse companions at least seemed to know what they were doing, and cared to help me, in contrast to the lawyer Connor had sent.

  Slumped in my chair, with no windows in the courtroom, I lost track of time. Cases were heard, but I was lost in my misery, and barely paid attention. Eventually, the judge called a lunch break, though to me it already felt like ten o’clock at night. The older prisoner, escorted by two guards, passed by on his way to detention, and winked. Our conversation of an hour ago felt like it had happened in another century.

  I was brought back to my solitary holding cell and given a second ham sandwich. I knew I needed to eat, but I took a bite and gagged. The thought of food was repugnant to me. I saw no way out of my predicament. I put the sandwich down, hung my head, and cried.

  32

  The clanging of the cell door opening awakened me from a fitful sleep. I sat up, my back and neck stiff from lying on the hard bench.

  “Lawyer meeting,” the guard said.

  She escorted me back up to the courtroom, and then to a holding cell behind it that I hadn’t seen before. I waited there for about ten minutes, until the guard admitted the Levitt Global lawyer, Courtney whatever-her-name-was, along with a second woman, whom I recognized from the courtroom as the older prisoner’s lawyer.

  “Hey, Tabitha,” Courtney said. “Look, I know your husband asked me to represent you. And I’m happy to do that. But I was just speaking with Ms. Cohen here, who represents Howard Bishop. I don’t know if you know who he is, but he has a major hedge fund. Had, I should say. He’s in for embezzlement, and—”

  “He was the gentleman you spoke to in the courtroom earlier. He told me you were in need of further advice,” the other lawyer said.

  “Okay, yes. Definitely.”

  “The point is, I don’t have much criminal experience—”

  “I can tell,” I said, and pointed to the other lawyer. “If you’re saying she could represent me instead, then I want her. You can go.”

  “Okay. Wow, great. Thank you. And you’ll tell Mr. Ford that I offered to stay, right? I mean, I can stay, to observe. In fact, he might prefer that I do that. He did ask for a full report.”

  “No. This is my new lawyer. I want to meet with her privately. Please leave.”

  “Oh, right, sure.”

  My new lawyer pressed a buzzer. A few moments later, the door to the courtroom opened, and Courtney McCarthy disappeared through it.

  “Thank God she’s gone,” I said.

  The new lawyer laughed and pulled a chair up to the bars of my cell. When she sat down, we were at eye level with each other. She wa
s in her fifties, with short dark hair and glasses, wearing a navy-blue business suit. She stuck her hand through the bars, and we shook.

  “Suzanne Cohen. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ford, though I’m sorry it’s under such difficult circumstances. Call me Suzanne. May I call you Tabitha?”

  “Certainly.”

  “The judge is hearing a civil case now. We have about an hour till they call us to court, and there’s a lot to cover.”

  In my agitation, I jumped to my feet and paced the tiny cell.

  “Okay, but first, before I can focus on anything, where is my husband? I just can’t believe he would abandon me. It’s his money that would have to pay your fee. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that. Please, don’t you abandon me. But—has he? Why would he do that? I’m scared.”

  “Tabitha, please, sit down. Come on, here. Have a seat. Give me your hand.”

  I sat down on the hard bench and clutched her hand through the bars. It was cool and dry and felt like a lifeline.

  “Ever do yoga?” she asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Deepen your breath, in and out. I need you to be calm enough to work with me on your defense.”

  I sat for a moment, looking into her eyes, breathing in and out deeply. I felt my concentration come back.

  “Better,” I said with a nod, and dropped her hand.

  “Good. We’re under time pressure, so let’s not worry about the fee right now. As to where your husband is, that’s an important question. Do you know whether he’s distancing himself from you, and why that might be?”

  “I don’t know it for a fact, but he’s not here, so—” I shrugged hopelessly.