Wall of Silence

by Dorey Whittaker

  Mr. Gordon quickly interjected. “Your Honor, until that time, the state must assume this was a deliberate act, and we request that Ms. Miller be remanded until such time as the head wound matter has been explained.”

  After a quick glance at Lisa, Mr. Duncan addressed the bench yet again. “Your Honor, Lisa Miller was the one attacked last evening, not Charles Miller. There is sufficient physical evidence on Ms. Miller’s body to show she acted in self-defense. It is our contention that Mr. Charles Miller, recently released from prison for having beaten her half to death and having threatened her life, was trying to keep his promise.”

  “Well, Mr. Duncan, since Mr. Miller is not the one standing before me, and Ms. Lisa Miller is, let us focus on what your client is accused of. I understand her father served time in prison for beating his daughter. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. I believe he was to serve a ten-to-fifteen-year sentence for beating my client.”

  “Mr. Duncan, it is one thing to beat someone. It’s quite another to take someone’s life. Would you not agree?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, but Mr. Miller had every intention of killing my client when he beat her eleven years ago. Actually, he almost succeeded. He was in that alley last night to finish what he started.”

  “Well, we can’t actually know what Mr. Miller’s intentions were, can we, Mr. Duncan? At the time of the beating, it appears as if Charles Miller’s daughter was actively engaging in the marketing of her body. Isn’t that right, Mr. Duncan?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, but my client’s lifestyle had nothing to do with the beating her father inflicted on her back then. He couldn’t have cared less what she was doing for a living, any more than he cared that she has been an upstanding member of this community for the past eleven years and has held down the same honorable job for the past ten-and-a-half years. The same job she was doing last night when he ambushed her in the alley behind the bakery where she works.”

  Judge Kirkley had no way of knowing what kind of man Chuck Miller really was. He quickly reviewed the criminal record of this woman standing in front of him, and pondered out loud, “Mr. Charles Miller most likely tried to beat some sense into this daughter of his and the poor man ended up in prison for it. He was probably trying to get his daughter off the streets, and who could blame him? By these reports, at the time of the beating she had a serious drug problem and had been living a very dangerous lifestyle for years. For all I know, Mr. Miller might have stopped by to check on his daughter, just like I would have. Who knows what really happened in that alley?”

  With steely eyes directed at Lisa, Judge Kirkley continued. “I feel there is sufficient evidence to warrant holding Ms. Miller over for trial. I suggest the only way we will really learn the truth is in court. I will set July 15 as a trial date and suggest everyone do their homework.”

  Mr. Duncan was on his feet immediately. “Your Honor, defense requests bail be set for Ms. Miller. We can provide ample testimony for her upstanding character for the past eleven years, and Mr. Thomas here, the defendant’s brother-in-law, is willing to provide any bond the court deems necessary.”

  Judge Kirkley scanned the police reports in front of him and with a deep, slow breath, turned to the prosecutor and asked, “Do you have any objections to my setting bail for this defendant, Mr. Gordon?”

  With a cynicism deeply rooted by years of dealing with criminals, Gordon assumed everyone was guilty, no matter what. “Your Honor, because of Ms. Miller’s criminal history, the preliminary autopsy report that does not agree with her rendition of last night, and the serious nature of these charges, I feel the citizens of Jefferson deserve to be protected until we can investigate this case a little further. It is, therefore, the recommendation of my office that bail be denied at this time. We would not be opposed to re-addressing this issue, say, in a week’s time, after all the investigators have had time to submit their findings. Until then, we request remand.”

  Nodding, Judge Kirkley turned to Lisa and ordered, “Under the circumstances, I cannot in good conscience allow Ms. Miller to walk the streets of Jefferson. Until this matter is resolved, the citizens of this city expect this court to show caution in setting bail. Therefore, no bail will be offered at this time. Sergeant, please return Ms. Miller to her cell.”

  Chapter 26

  They had three months to put together a defense. One week after the arraignment, Mr. Duncan’s second appeal to get Lisa out on bail was denied, so Lisa was going to be sitting in jail until the trial.

  One week later, Mr. Duncan had his game plan outlined and called a meeting in one of the conference rooms at the jail to share it with Lisa, Susan, and Scott. “We need to prove two things. One, what Chuck Miller was really like, and two, how much Lisa has changed. The prosecution obviously wants to present Lisa as a drug addict and prostitute, an out-of-control daughter filled with anger and revenge, lying in wait for her father to get out of prison so she could kill him.”

  He poured himself a second cup of coffee and continued. “Of course, I intend to file a motion to suppress her prior record, but the prosecution is going to argue that it goes to motive, and I think Judge Kirkley will allow it. Therefore, we need to prepare as if it will be admitted.”

  With a puzzled look, Susan inquired, “Mr. Duncan, since that was more than ten years ago, how much could it really hurt Lisa’s case?”

  “A lot! If we can’t prove to this jury that the Lisa in those records no longer exists, they’ll convict her. It may not be for first-degree murder, but it has been my experience that once a jury knows a defendant has been found guilty of any crime, especially like the types she has been charged for, they will usually find them guilty of the charges before them. That is why the courts don’t tend to allow prior records anymore. It’s too prejudicial. Judge Kirkley, being so old school, is hard to read. All we can do is try.”

  Lisa asked, “So if they allow it, how do we counter it?”

  “First, I need to put you two girls, and your mother, on the stand to show the kind of life you had to live with him, and what kind of monster Chuck Miller really was.”

  Susan shook her head. “I’ll be glad to testify for my sister, but my mother will never lift a finger to help Lisa. You don’t understand how much she hates her. My dad almost killed my mother because Lisa ran away. She’ll probably feel a double sense of justice over this. Her husband is now dead, and her daughter is going to prison for killing him. Her dream has come true.”

  “Susan, she has no choice. Even if we have to subpoena her and question her as a hostile witness, the jury will read her like an open book. The more hostile she gets, the better. We want this jury to see what you girls experienced. If they can’t see Chuck Miller in action, then we’ll show them Marjorie Miller instead. You let me take care of your mother.”

  Susan smiled and responded, “You don’t know my mother.”

  Duncan then turned to Scott and continued. “In order to show the jury how much Lisa has changed, I’m going to put your aunt Gladys, Mrs. Bascom, and you on the stand. If I can show them the Lisa you all know, we’ll have a chance. This jury has to be convinced they can trust Lisa’s testimony. If we can do that, I think we can win.”

  After a few minutes of lighter conversation, Duncan continued. “There’s one thing, though. You know I received the final autopsy report the other day, and it was this report the judge used to deny bail. The head injury was more extensive than first suspected, and since we cannot give a reasonable explanation for it, the prosecution is alleging it indicates that Chuck Miller may have been waylaid from behind. It was because of this that Judge Kirkley called me into his chambers and notified me he was denying our petition for another bail hearing.”

  Scott quickly sat forward. “That’s extraordinary. The man was shot. He was a violent man who was always in fights. Maybe that injury is from another fight.”

  Mr. Duncan already knew that wasn’t possible but he said, “I haven’t had a chance to really study these
reports yet. Maybe there is a reasonable explanation. If there is, we’ll find it.”

  Duncan noticed that Lisa didn’t react in any way. She sat stone-faced and silent. He had already told her about the medical findings, and she couldn’t explain how the blow could have happened. Duncan wondered, Maybe she was so traumatized that night, she’s afraid to remember. One thing I do know—it wasn’t deliberate, like the prosecutor is alleging. This woman is not a killer.

  Turning his attention back to the conversation, Duncan began wrapping up the meeting. “Susan, what I need from you is a list of people, outside the family, who knew what was going on in your house. We have only a few months, so if you could make yourself available to help me put the pieces of this puzzle together, your sister and I would be grateful.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Mr. Duncan. If you feel I could be of help, I’ll move down here until this is all over. I can’t let my sister sit in that jail alone. If they only knew what a wonderful person she has turned out to be.”

  With a sweet, grandfatherly smile, Mr. Duncan stood up and placed his hand on Lisa’s arm. “Don’t you worry. We’re going to win this. It’s your job to keep your spirits up and trust us to do a good job for you. Can you do that?”

  “I’ll try. All I can promise is, I’ll try.”

  Mr. Duncan then opened the conference door and signaled the officer that Lisa was ready to be returned to her cell. Susan gave her one more hug and then watched as Lisa was led away.

  ***

  “I know. But let’s give him some time to investigate it. Did you notice how Lisa reacted to the news? Or should I say didn’t react? She just sat there.”

  “I don’t think it means anything. She’s probably so overwhelmed with everything, she doesn’t know what to say or feel.”

  The defensiveness in her voice contradicted her response.

  Scott knew she was upset and scared. “All right. Let’s leave it alone until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  Then, wanting to change the subject, he said, “Dad’s counting on me to help with the company. The doctors want him to rest for at least a month, so I have to stay in Atlanta and run the company, but Mr. Duncan wants you down here to help him.”

  Thankful for a different subject, Susan suggested, “Why don’t we rent a little house here in town? I’m sure Aunt Gladys would be happy to watch the children while I help Mr. Duncan. By the middle of July, when the trial is to start, Dad should be strong enough to take over the business, and you can come here for the trial.”

  Scott thought about the logistics of everything for a few minutes and then suggested, “Why don’t you and the children stay with Aunt Gladys? She won’t understand your wanting to get a place by yourself.”

  “She will, once I explain. Scott, this is as much for her as it is for me.”

  Gladys had lunch ready when they arrived. After filling her in on Mr. Duncan’s plan, Susan mentioned moving the family down to Jefferson. Just as Scott had suspected, as soon as they mentioned renting a little house, Aunt Gladys offered to have them stay with her.

  “That’s sweet of you, Aunt Gladys, but with the strain of the trial, I think you’ll need a quiet house to come home to. Having my three kids underfoot twenty-four hours a day will be too much. We’ll find something close. But could you help watch the children for the month or so before the trial? I wouldn’t have to worry about them and could concentrate on helping Mr. Duncan.”

  “You know I will. It will help me also. Caring for the children gives me something to do.”

  Nodding in agreement, Susan quietly studied this gracious woman she had come to love, and silently wondered, How did you become the sweet, caring person you are? Was it purely an accident of birth? Was it merely luck that you got your family, and my mother got hers? Are we all merely the products of our environment; our character, temperament, and future formed before we are even old enough to protest? No. That’s an easy excuse offered up by people like my mother, because she couldn’t, didn’t, or wouldn’t make different choices. Besides, that kind of thinking discounts all your hard choices, as if you never had to work at being kind, unselfish, and forgiving. People like my mother think it’s just easier for people like you.

  “Susan. Earth to Susan,” Scott teased. He knew her mind was a million miles away.

  Jarred back from her thoughts, Susan gave Scott an apologetic shrug. It had been years since she’d thought much about her mother, but now, having to talk about their childhood, it was consuming every waking moment. “Sorry. I wasn’t listening. What did you say?”

  “I said we have lots to do. Can we pencil in some dates? The trial is set for the middle of July, and Mr. Duncan said he wants you here by the first of next month. That only gives us three weeks.”

  “Scott, how are we going to do that? We have three weeks to find a place and get settled in.”

  Susan was thinking about the timing, but Scott was thinking about their children. “Susan, how are we going to move you and the kids down here to Jefferson without Lisa Anne asking lots of questions? She’ll never understand why she’s staying this close to her Auntie Lisa and not getting to see her. What are we going to tell the children?”

  Susan was already on the verge of tears, but thinking about how this was going to affect Lisa Anne was more than she could deal with. “I don’t want Lisa Anne knowing any of this. At least not until it’s over. We’ll have to make up some reason.”

  “I don’t mean to be difficult, but I know our daughter. She’s going to ask questions, and we need to have some answers ready. How do we explain that she’s only blocks from her Auntie Lisa yet she can’t go see her?”

  “All right, I promise we’ll think of something to tell her, just not right now. I’m too overwhelmed with all this to think about what to tell Lisa Anne.”

  “That’s fair. I understand you can’t handle it right now. Why don’t we finish up lunch and the three of us go over to the jail and see Lisa. Then we can stop in and talk to a real estate agent. Maybe we can find something close by.”

  Picking up the dishes, Gladys said, “I can ask around at church tomorrow. Maybe someone knows of an available house. If you can’t find one right away, you can always start out here and keep looking.”

  Chapter 27

  It had been only two weeks since Lisa’s arrest, but everyone was already exhausted. Aunt Gladys and Mrs. Bascom visited her every day, and Scott and Susan drove down every other night to see her. After their third visit, Officer Jackson arranged to have the rules bent a little for them. He was able to extend the visiting hours to eight o’clock, allowing Scott to work all day in Atlanta and still drive down and have enough time to visit with her. By the time Susan and the children moved to Jefferson, Lisa had been in jail for almost a month.

  Although he was needed in Atlanta, Scott took a few days off to get his family settled in. Getting ready to leave, he went into the children’s room and gave them each a goodbye kiss. They were still sound asleep, but he had promised both girls he would give them a kiss. He jiggled Lisa Anne’s shoulder, just enough to make her stir. “Daddy loves you, punkin.”

  Without fully waking, she lifted her head long enough to say, “I love you too, Daddy,” and slipped back to sleep.

  Susan followed him out to the car and watched as he placed his things on the seat. Turning around, he took her in his arms. “I hate leaving you here alone, Susan. I know these depositions are going to be painful for you.”

  “I’ll be all right. I have Aunt Gladys, and you’ll be back on Friday.”

  “I want you to call me every night, and I expect you to tell me the truth. If things start getting too hard, I want you to be honest with me. Once the trial begins, Dad should be back to work full-time, and I’ll come down here and stay.”

  ***

  A few days later, Officer Jackson pulled Susan aside. “Mrs. Thomas, I want to apologize for the way I behaved that first night. You see, I had remembered your sister from her other vi
sits with us. She was such a mess back then. Because of her foul mouth, we all called her ‘the sailor.’ She could say things that would make the toughest guy in here blush.”

  “Yes, I remember those days, too.” Susan half-heartedly chuckled.

  With a sheepish smile, he continued. “Well, I’ve been watching your sister these past few weeks, and I just wanted to tell you there’s no way she’s putting on an act. I’ve listened to her conversations with your aunt Gladys and that Mrs. Bascom. I’m telling you, the woman in that cell is not the same person we had in this jail eleven years ago.”

  “I know, Officer Jackson. It wasn’t easy for my sister, but she fought her way back from the pit of hell. I’m glad you’re here watching after her and that you’ll be the one to walk her back and forth to court. I know you’ll do everything in your power to make this as easy as possible for her.”

  For two months, Susan pushed herself physically and emotionally. She had her daily visits at the jail, trying to help keep Lisa’s mood positive. There were the daily two-to-three-hour reading sessions at Mr. Duncan’s office, where she reviewed the depositions, went over the volumes of police reports, and helped him piece together their family history. With each deposition, she felt herself giving way a little more. How much more could she take? Having to relive these old memories, in such detail, were draining her of her strength. Then there was her concern for her children. Each evening, instead of giving in to her waves of overwhelming depression, she forced a light-hearted appearance until the children were put to bed. She was determined that they would remain happy and stressfree, but the energy it took to feign this happy exterior was taking its toll on her.

  One week before the trial was to begin, Scott called. “Your mother stopped by the office today looking for you. I told her you were in Jefferson, but I didn’t give her our address there. I don’t want her showing up at the door without me there. I don’t want her upsetting you or the children.”