“Victoria’s too honest to bring a baseless case. But that kind of money would make sure that ties go to the runner. What's the second thing?”
“Do you know about the state prosecutor internship program?”
“I didn't know there was such a thing.”
Olivia nodded and teased her bleached hair down around her glasses. “There wasn't until about three months ago. A charitable foundation set up a program so that newly graduated law students can apply for a paid internship in a metropolitan prosecutor's office. The understaffed prosecutors get new lawyers who can help with their caseload and the new lawyers get training and a salary that’s just as much as the prosecutor would pay. Once the new attorneys finish the program, they have an inside track on finding a prosecutorial job or they have good trial experience to go work on the civil side.”
“Sounds like a great program.”
“It is. The interesting thing is that most of the positions are in Ohio's larger cities: Columbus, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Akron, Toledo. Want to guess the smallest city to get lawyers from the program?”
“Would that be Carrefour, Ohio?”
Olivia nodded. “It would. Any guesses on how many positions it provides?”
I thought of the young attorneys helping Victoria. “How about two?”
“Bing. Again totally legitimate and by all accounts a great program but…”
I nodded. “But they're making sure there's plenty of resources for the prosecutor on this case.”
“Exactly.”
“Which would also explain why Bre Phillips was so pissed off when she had to leave the courtroom today.”
Olivia cocked her head and I explained about the separation of witnesses and kicking her out of court. Olivia chuckled. “That had to have chapped her ass, paying all that money and not getting to see anything.”
“Thanks, Olivia.” I looked across the car to where Liselle was just staring at the oak tree. “I'll see you tomorrow, Liselle. Eight o'clock.”
Liselle nodded. “I'm not going anywhere.”
I tapped the car and Olivia drove off.
Danny said something.
“Sorry, what's that?” I said.
“You know she's eating alone every night, right?”
“What? Oh, Liselle? Yeah, I guess so.”
Danny shifted his weight. “I’m just saying, we're working and she's nervous and she's all by herself in that house. It's got to be hard.”
When I get going with trial, I don't tend to notice a lot of what's going on around me. This was one of those times and I felt embarrassed by it. “That's a good point, Danny. She doesn't really get to talk to anyone about her questions, does she?”
Danny shook his head.
“Tell you what, let's have her eat with us back at the office each night. She can ask questions and she might have contributions to what we're doing the next day. Do you mind taking her home if Olivia’s not available since it's later?”
“That would be fine. I'm sure she'd prefer it.”
I clapped his shoulder. “You know, Danny, for a lawyer, you’re pretty good guy.”
“Sorry. I'll work on that.”
I smiled and we drove back to the office.
35
Bre Phillips took the stand first thing the next morning. She wore an expensive suit and a jeweled watch as she sat in the witness chair, hands folded, back straight. “Could you introduce yourself to the jury please?” said Victoria.
She glared at Liselle for a moment before she said, “Breanne Phillips.”
“You were related to Richard Phillips?”
“I am. I’m his daughter.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“My brother, Andrew.”
“Thank you for being here, Ms. Phillips.”
She glared at Liselle. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I know this may be difficult for you. Were you with your father the weekend he died?”
She lifted her chin. “I was.”
“Was that here in Carrefour, Ohio?”
“Yes.”
“What brought you here?”
“My cousin Jake’s wedding. His wife Mandy is from this…place.”
“How are you related to Jake?”
“My dad Richard has a brother, Stephen. Jake is Stephen’s son.”
“I see. Is your family close?”
“Very.”
“Did you travel to the wedding with your father?”
“I did. By plane. We all flew out together.”
“Were you on the same flight?”
Bre tossed her hair a little and smiled. “We own the plane.”
“I see. And were you on the same plane as your father?”
“I was.”
“Who else was on the plane?”
“My brother, Andrew. Daddy. Her.” She pointed.
“By her, you mean Liselle Vila?”
“Yes.”
“Had you met Ms. Vila before?”
“Briefly. At the fundraiser where Daddy met her.”
“This was the first time you’d seen them together?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Phillips, did you make the hotel arrangements for your family?”
“I did. The wedding had arranged for a block of rooms so I reserved the rooms for my family.”
“How many rooms?”
“Three. One for me, one for Andrew, and one for Daddy.”
“Did Ms. Vila have a separate room.”
“No.”
“I apologize if this seems rude, but it’s important. Where was Ms. Vila staying?”
“In Daddy’s room.”
“Thank you. I understand you arrived on Thursday night?”
“We did.”
“What did you do the next day?”
“Daddy and Andrew and I golfed with some other family members during the day. The rehearsal dinner was that night.”
“Did Ms. Vila golf with you?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she was?”
“Daddy said she was looking at trees. Apparently, you have neat trees around here.”
“I see. Did she join you for the rehearsal dinner?”
Bre lifted her chin. “It was supposed to be for family and the wedding party but Daddy insisted.”
“How was dinner?”
“It was very nice. I was pleasantly surprised by the food. Aunt Paulette picked a great place.”
“What kind of food did they have?”
“They had the usual appetizers—shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, some breaded thing on a stick. And they had a huge antipasti set up.”
“Oh? And what was that?”
Bre looked at Liselle. “A full board of aged meats and cheeses.”
“Did you see your father eat the appetizers?”
“I did.”
“What did he have?”
“I brought him some shrimp. He was just finishing it when she brought him a plate of the antipasti.”
“You actually remember that?”
“I do. She said the prosciutto was delicious.” She paused. “So Daddy set the shrimp plate down and started eating the prosciutto.”
“By ‘she’ you mean Ms. Vila?”
“Yes.”
“Did you all eat dinner together?”
“We did. The wedding party wasn’t that big so we were at one long table. I was a couple of places down from Daddy.”
“Did you see what he ate?”
“No. I saw what he drank though.”
“What’s that?”
“When the server came around, Daddy asked her what she wanted. She said a Malbec and then Daddy said, ‘two Malbecs.’”
“What’s a Malbec?”
“It’s a red wine.”
“I see. Did you see how many he had?”
“No. But I saw them order a bottle later on and split it.”
“And why do you remember that, Ms. Phillips?”
“Because
Daddy never drank red wine.”
“Was there anything else unusual that night?
“No, it was the usual conversations and toasts. Jake was a little nervous, which was very sweet. The official dinner broke up a little early.”
“Did you see any more of your father or Ms. Vila that night?”
“No. A few of us cousins stayed out, but Daddy and that woman went to bed right after dinner.” Bre's face made it clear what she thought of that idea.
“Did you see your father the next day?”
“I did. He came down for breakfast at the hotel. It was a buffet style so I sat with him for a while.” Bre appeared to choke up a little bit. “Just the two of us.”
“And how did your father seem that morning?”
“He was in a good mood. He said that he’d slept like a baby. He said that that woman had given—”
I stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Hearsay. It's one thing to talk about what she was observing at the time. She's now relating her father's words of what happened outside of the witnesses’s presence.”
Victoria turned to the judge. “Under the dead man's statute, a decedent can speak about the cause of his death.”
“Unless the prosecution is changing its theory to say that Mr. Phillips slept to death, it's not relevant. Also, that statute’s not applicable to a criminal case in this circumstance.”
Judge French touch the side of his glasses. “Sustained. The witness will only speak about what she observed.”
Victoria turned back to Bre. “Did you see your father that afternoon?”
Bre shot Judge French an annoyed look before she said, “Not until the wedding. He and that woman had plans to go see something. I don't know what.”
“Let's skip ahead to the wedding reception then. Did you see your father there?”
“I did.”
“What did you see.”
“I saw Daddy drinking and dancing with that woman.”
“What was he drinking?”
“I remember red wine at dinner.”
“And you said you remember them dancing?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
Bre didn't just choke up this time. She started to cry. When she didn't stop, Victoria picked a box of tissue up off the counsel table and put it on the railing of the witness stand. After Bre had wiped her eyes and nodded, Victoria said again, “Bre, why do you remember them dancing?”
“Because they were dancing the whole time, through the whole reception.” She took a jagged breath. “As soon as dinner was over, they started.” She took another jagged breath. “They had to stop when Jake and Mandy did the garter and the bouquet.” A jagged breath. “And I caught it. I caught the bouquet. And Daddy said to me—” a jagged breath “—Daddy said to me that he couldn't wait to dance with me at my wedding—” another jagged breath “—And I said why don't you dance with me now? And before I could, that woman, that woman right there, came up to him and said, ‘You owe me a dance,’ and Daddy looked at me and said, ‘We’ll save it for your wedding,’ and they twirled away, and the next time I talked to him I was screaming at him because he was dead.”
Bre broke down completely then.
Victoria looked at the judge. “Your Honor, perhaps this would be a good time to take a break.”
Judge French started to speak when Bre waved a hand and said, “No, no let's get this over with. I'm fine.”
Victoria waited for another minute until Bre looked up at Victoria and nodded. Then Victoria said, “Bre, did you know that your father took blood pressure medication?”
She nodded. “Everybody knew Daddy was on blood pressure medication. He was always complaining about it. He hated taking pills of any kind.”
“Did you know that your father was taking St. John's wort?”
Bre wiped the corner of her eye one more time and said, “I don't even know what that is.”
“I know this is been hard for you,” said Victoria. “Thank you, Ms. Phillips.”
Bre nodded. As Victoria sat, I stood and said, “Ms. Phillips, would you like to take a break?
Her expression hardened. “No.”
“Let me know if you do.”
She nodded.
“Ms. Phillips, your father was a very successful man, wasn’t he?”
“He was.”
“He was the head of the Doprava Company?”
“The CEO, yes.”
“He had been the CEO for over fifteen years, right?”
“Something like that.”
“As the CEO, your father was the chief decision-maker for Doprava, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“He made decisions for his company every day, didn’t he?”
“I suppose so.”
“Decisions that affected the jobs of thousands of people?”
“Yes.”
“Decisions that controlled millions of dollars?”
Bre straightened. “Billions of dollars.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, Doprava is a multi-billion-dollar company, not a multi-million-dollar company. Ms. Phillips, your father knew how to decide what he wanted to eat, didn't he?”
“Objection,” said Victoria.
“Directly relevant to the prosecutor's theory of the case, Your Honor.”
“Overruled,” said Judge French.
“Your father knew how to decide what he wanted to eat, didn’t he?”
“Unless someone else picked the menu.”
“Ms. Vila didn't pick the menu for your cousin's wedding, did she?”
Bre straightened. “She did not.”
“Or the rehearsal dinner?”
“No.”
“Or the breakfast buffet you shared?”
“No.”
“Ms. Phillips, you mentioned that you golfed with your father and your brother the day before the wedding.”
“We did.”
“Your father drank while he was on the golf course, didn’t he?”
Bre hesitated before she said, “A little.”
“Beer?”
She nodded.
“You have to say ‘yes.’”
“Yes.”
“Did you get your father a beer while you were on the golf course?”
Bre scowled. “What?”
“When you were on the golf course. Did you ever get a beer from the cart or from the cooler or from the clubhouse and hand it to your father?”
“I don’t remember.”
“I see. You testified that, on the morning of the wedding, you had breakfast with your father in the hotel?”
“I did.”
“You said it was just the two of you at the table?”
“It was.”
“What did your father order to drink?”
Bre’s face was turning hard. “I don't remember.”
“It was a bloody Mary and a coffee, wasn't it?
“It might have been.”
“Ms. Phillips, you just said you knew that your father was taking blood pressure medication, right?”
“I did.”
“You testified that everyone knew that your father took blood pressure medication because he always complained about it.”
Bre nodded. “To anyone who would listen.”
“Ms. Phillips, what was the name of the medication your father took?”
“It was high blood pressure medication.”
“I understand that, Ms. Phillips. What was its name?”
“I don’t see how that’s important.”
“I can see that. What was the name of the medicine your father took?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“It can be the brand name or the generic name.”
She looked at Victoria. “Are you going to do something?”
I looked at the judge.
“Ms. Phillips,” said Judge French. “Please answer Mr. Shepherd.”
She straightened. “I can’t think of it off-hand.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“So you either forgot what he told you or he never told you, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Ms. Phillips, I know this is hard to talk about, but on the weekend of the wedding, your father seemed completely normal, didn't he?”
“What do you mean ‘normal?’”
“I mean he was acting appropriately, wasn't he?”
“I hardly think dating someone your daughter's age is appropriate.”
“Oh? Are you and Ms. Vila the same age?”
“I think we're only about four years apart?”
“And how do you know that?”
Bre raised her chin. “I checked.”
“I see. Ms. Phillips, since your father passed away, you’ve learned about your father’s will and estate, haven’t you?”
“It’s a trust. And yes.”
“A trust. Thank you. Ms. Phillips didn't receive anything from your father under this trust, did she?”
“I would think not. They'd only known each other six weeks.”
“Exactly. Ms. Vila had only known your father for six weeks. It’s fair to say that you knew your father far better than Ms. Vila, right?”
“Of course.”
“And you don’t know the name of his medication.”
She stared at me.
“Thank you, Ms. Phillips. No further questions.”
Victoria stood up. “Ms. Phillips, does the name Lopressor sound familiar?”
I laughed and stood. “Your Honor, that’s leading. And outrageous.”
“Yes!” said Bre. “That’s it!”
“Move to strike, Your Honor,” I said.
“Objection sustained.” Judge French stared at Victoria. “The jury will disregard the witness’s last statement. Do you have anything else, Ms. Lance?”
Victoria sat, unconcerned. “No, Your Honor.”
“The witness may step down.”
Bre Phillips left the witness stand and marched squarely between our tables, through the swinging gate to the gallery and sat down in the first row. Her eyes never left Liselle the whole time.
Victoria Lance turned to the judge and said, “Your Honor, the prosecution calls Andrew Phillips.”
It was her brother's turn.
36
Andrew Phillips wore a slim-fitting gray suit of fine silk with a light blue shirt open at the collar and a matching pocket square. His hair was longish and overly styled and he looked exactly like what he was—an underemployed, billionaire’s son.
True Intent Page 21
