by Lydia Kelly
“Did any of the men know at that time who your father was? Did they have a particular sum or plan in mind?”
“Kaden found out who my father was a few days later. I offered them all the money in my account, twenty five thousand dollars, but they refused it.”
“I see,” Evans said slowly, glancing at the jury again. I turned my head and looked at them as well. Their faces were a mixture of disgust and concern. Who they were disgusted in, I couldn’t tell.
“Ms. Winters, where did the three men take you after discovering you were still alive?”
This time I saw the defending attorney stand up to voice his objection.
“I’ll rephrase,” Evans promised. “Where did the three men take you after they decided to ransom you?”
“To their house.”
“And you were kept where?”
“In the basement.”
“Were you given food and water? Clean clothes?”
“I was given oatmeal every morning and I had running water in the basement. They took most of my things from me but let me keep a pair of jeans. I was given some of their shirts to wear.”
“Did you have access to a bathroom?”
“A few times a day, yes.”
“How long did they keep you in that basement?”
“About seven weeks.”
“Ms. Winters, during those seven weeks, did Mr. Birch ever cause you physical harm?”
“Yes.”
“Please, tell us what happened.”
I closed my eyes for a quick second, willing myself not to look at Ray. But when I opened them, his face was directly in my line of vision. “The first night I was there, he tried to force himself on me. A few weeks later, he threatened me with a knife and then hit me in the face.”
Ray quickly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. His lawyer whispered something to him with his hand in front of his mouth so I couldn’t see. Ray nodded and the smile disappeared from his face, a look of concern slanting his eyes and creasing his brow.
I looked back to Evans who waited patiently for my attention. “Did Ray ever mention Julie Walters?”
“Yes. He asked about her after reading that her body had been found.”
“What did he ask?”
“How well I knew her? Who else had seen me with her?”
“How did he react to your answers?”
“He was upset. He said I should be killed.”
“Were those his exact words?”
“His exact words were ‘we need to get rid of her’.”
“How do you know he wasn’t talking about letting you go?”
Tears started to form behind my lids. I was actually surprised it had taken this long to cry. It was easy to remember the time I had spent with Kaden. But reliving the time with Ray reminded me of how close to death I had been. “Because he had his brother bring him a knife. He held it to my neck until I bled.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes. But I don’t know what it was. I couldn’t see him. I could only see what Kaden was saying.”
“What was Kaden saying, then?” The lawyer handed me his handkerchief and I dabbed my eyes.
“He was said there was no need to kill me. They could still get some money.”
“And then what happened?”
“They agreed that I should write a letter to whoever could send the most money. They were going to include their demands.”
“Was this letter sent?”
“Yes. Ray and Marshal left the next day for Virginia so they could mail it.”
“And how long after this letter was mailed did you remain in captivity?”
I had to think about it. So much had happened between the time I had written that letter and the time Kaden had turned himself in. It seemed like weeks, but it was really only a matter of days.
“They were gone for one night and after they returned, I was taken to the bank the very next day where the police found me.”
“Why the urgency? They had just mailed their letter of demands.”
“I’m guessing it was because Ray discovered who my father was.” I glanced at my dad for the first time since taking the stand. He had tears in his eyes but looked proud of me. I gave him a weak smile and he tried his best to return it.
“Was Ray scared of your father?”
The defending team objected. It was sustained.
“Ms. Winters, I only have a few more questions to ask,” Evans said, clearly pleased with the reaction he was receiving from the opposing council. He walked slowly to the jury and rested his hand on the railing in front of them. I waited for his question.
“Were you scared of Mr. Birch during those seven weeks he held you captive?”
“Yes.”
“What were you afraid of?”
“I was afraid of his temper. I was afraid he was going to hurt me or kill me.”
“Why?”
“He killed Julie,” I choked out as I remembered how kind she had been. “He didn’t seem like he had a problem with it.”
“Ms. Winters, the night before you left that house, another woman was killed, was she not?”
This question surprised me. We hadn’t rehearsed it at all. “Yes.”
“Do you know how Carla Lindstrom was killed?”
“I read that he strangled her.”
“Forensics concluded that she was severely beaten before she died.”
I held my breath, waiting for him to say more.
“Do you know where the police found her body?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“They found her in the basement, lying on an old mattress.”
I closed my eyes. My tears became uncontrollable. I could see the basement clearly in my mind, the old furniture, the cinderblock walls and my mattress in the center of the room. It wasn’t hard to imagine Carla’s body on that mattress. So many times, I had thought that very bed would be my final resting place.
I kept my eyes closed for a long moment, the image of Carla in the basement becoming more and more vivid.
“I have no further questions, Your Honor,” Evans addressed the judge. She stared down at me from her seat. Her face remained stern but her eyes looked sympathetic. I must have finally looked like victim Evans wanted me to be.
The defense attorney rose from his seat. Mr. Krieger was an older man, around my father’s age. His blonde hair had hints of grey around his temples and his short stature was ineffectively disguised by a black pin striped suite. He didn’t smile at me as he approached.
“Ms. Winters, what were you doing the night before you left the house?”
The question seemed simple enough. But I was surprised at how much I struggled to find the answer. “I wasn’t doing anything. Sleeping, I guess.”
“Who were you with?”
I froze. “I was with Kaden,” I answered slowly. My eyes flickered to my father and Samantha who stared at me with worried expressions. Evans looked calm but twirled his pen between his fingers at a nervous pace.
“Were you in his room or were you in the basement?”
“I was in his room.”
“So you weren’t always kept in the basement?”
“Not always.”
“Not the last night you were there, at least?”
“No, sir.”
The lawyer let a small smile escape his lips and I followed his gaze to the jury. They were now looking at me with a peculiar sense of wonder.
“Tell me, what were you and Mr. Prideaux doing that last night in his house?”
My jaw clenched. “We were���he was���” But I didn’t know how to phrase it. We had been making love, at least that was how it felt at the time. That was how it still felt now. But making love didn’t seem like the right thing to say.
“Were you being intimate with Mr. Prideaux?” Krieger saved me from saying it out loud.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Speak up, Ms. Winters. Let the court hear you.”<
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“Yes,” I answered, sitting up straight in my chair, avoiding all eyes except the lawyer’s.
“So you were distracted?”
“Distracted from what?”
“From what was going on in the house.”
I looked at him, trying to figure out what he wanted me to say. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Were you aware of, or did you have any knowledge of what was going on in the rest of the house that evening?”
“No, sir.”
“Is it safe to say that your activities distracted Mr. Prideaux as well?”
I scoffed at the word. Our activities, as he called them, had been beautiful that evening. I didn’t believe Kaden had used me as a distraction.
“He seemed distracted at first, but not by me. He jumped at some noises he heard.”
“But you don’t know what noises?”
“No. He wouldn’t tell me. But they started after Ray had taken Carla upstairs to his room.”
“But you don’t know what actually happened that night between Mr. Birch and Ms. Lindstrom?”
“No.”
“Ms. Winters, is it true that you led Mr. Birch to believe you were incapable of speech when you first met?”
I smiled at the way he phrased the question. “When Mr. Birch discovered I was alive and took me to his home against my will, yes, I led him to believe I couldn’t speak.”
“Why?”
“It seemed easier that way.”
“Were you not encouraged to keep up this charade?”
I blinked. “I was encouraged, yes.”
“By whom?”
“By Kaden.”
“Did he promise you something in return for your silence?”
“He promised that he would keep me safe from Ray. He knew how scared I was of him.”
“Were you not scared of the other two men?”
“I was.”
“Yet you aligned yourself with Mr. Prideaux because he promised to keep you safe?”
“Yes.” I didn’t understand where he was going with this. It seemed as if we were talking in circles.
“Did he live up to that promise?”
I swallowed. “Ray didn’t kill me, if that’s what you mean.”
Krieger smiled at my response. “Ms. Winters, you’ve already admitted to having a sexual relationship with Mr. Prideaux. Can you please tell me when that started?”
“Three days before I was found.”
“Was it consensual?”
“No,” I answered quickly, having convinced myself that was the answer everyone needed to hear.
“Is it true that Mr. Prideaux knew who your father was before Mr. Birch and his brother?”
“Yes.”
“You said earlier that you wrote a letter asking for help and that Mr. Birch and his brother drove to Virginia to mail it. Who did you write that letter to?”
“My father,” I said, glancing at Christopher who stared back in confusion. Was he wondering who this woman was, sitting in front of a jury and a judge, talking about things he didn’t like to even think about?
“So you must have given someone his address?”
“No.”
“No?” Krieger looked around the courtroom pretending to be shocked by my answer. “How did they know where to mail it to then?”
I didn’t want to say it out loud. I glared at the lawyer until he spoke again.
“Ms. Winters, I remind you that you are under oath.”
“Kaden addressed it to a PO Box in Delaware which he acquired over the Internet.”
The lawyer smiled again. “So Kaden was aware your father would never in fact read that letter.”
“Yes.”
“But Mr. Birch was not?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Prideaux tell you why he falsely addressed the letter?”
I was suddenly aware of how tense I felt. My hands clenched the chair beneath me, my legs were squeezed together so tight that my knees started to ache. “He said he wanted more time with me.”
“Is it true that Mr. Prideaux asked you to run away with him?”
“Yes.” I started to cry again.
“Is it safe to say that he had developed stronger feelings for you than just a physical desire?”
Mr. Evans stood up to object, his face red with anger. Sustained.
“Did Mr. Prideaux ever voice his affection for you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say to you to make you believe that his interest lay beyond your father’s money?”
“He said I was his everything.” I could see movement in the crowd as I said this, heads turning to whisper to neighbors, uncomfortable shifting in the seats. A new reality had just settled into the minds of the courtroom.
“Interesting,” he said before pausing and looking at some notes on his desk. “Ms. Winters, you also stated that Kaden convinced Mr. Birch and his brother to keep you in the basement.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why he did this?”
“He wanted to ransom me.”
“Well, I do believe we just established that money wasn’t Mr. Prideaux’s motivation.”
“Perhaps not. But it’s the reason Ray didn’t kill me.”
The lawyer looked at me with feigned disappointment. “Ms. Winters, can you please describe the weather conditions on the night you were taken?”
I paused to think about it. “There was a storm coming in. It was windy.”
“Was visibility impaired?”
“No.”
“No? It was dark and windy, certainly you couldn’t see as well as you could in the daytime.”
I shrugged.
“Let’s move on,” Krieger said and continued without pause. “You were hit by a car and survived when your friend did not. Did you sustain any injuries?”
“Yes. A few of my ribs were broken.”
“Anything else?”
“Cuts and bruises mostly.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Yes.”
“Were you disoriented or nauseous when you first woke up?”
“Of course.”
“And you never spoke or moved on your own until you reached the house?”
“No,” I stuttered.
“I see. Tell me, how can you be sure you were one hundred percent coherent?”
“I’m sure I wasn’t. I had been hit by a car, after all.”
“So you were nauseous, confused and scared for your life, it was dark and windy and, forgive me for asking but it has yet to be stated, you are completely deaf, are you not?”
I glared at him again. “Completely.”
The lawyer’s lips didn’t smile and his eyes seemed to mock me. “The defense rests, Your Honor.”
I glared at his back until I realized I hadn’t been breathing. I inhaled sharply, the oxygen stinging my lungs and throat. Evan’s handkerchief was clutched in my hand and I slowly released my grip, smoothing it out on my lap before looking up at the judge.
“The prosecution will make his rebuttal.”
I looked back to Evans who was already approaching the stand. He didn’t speak until he was only a foot from where I was seated.
“Ms. Winters, can you understand what I am saying?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been able to read lips?”
“I started learning at the age of six.”
“Does my speech look different from say that of Mr. Krieger?”
I smiled. “Yes. Your accent is much more western. Mr. Krieger has a pretty thick drawl.”
Krieger frowned from his seat and pressed his lips together. Evans nodded in approval and took a few steps back.
“Can you understand what I’m saying now?”
“Yes.”
He took a few more steps. “Could you please tell the court your favorite color?”
I smiled at him. “My favorite color is green.”
He walked to the oth
er side of the railing which separated the audience from the lawyers. “Could you please tell the court your favorite movie?”
Krieger stood up and objected, clearly making an effort to annunciate his words. “These questions could have easily been rehearsed.”
The judge nodded. “Mr. Evans, I believe you have made your point. The court is well aware of Ms. Winter’s ability to read lips.”
Evans smiled. “No further questions, your honor.”
“The witness is excused,” she said. I couldn’t read her face and I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the one on trial. I wasn’t the one being judged. It was Ray. The fate of his life rested with this judge and jury, not mine.
I stood up quickly and felt dizzy. Steadying myself on the railing, I took a few slow steps to regain my bearings and then quickly crossed the courtroom floor. I didn’t have to look around to know that the entire courtroom was silent. Eyes followed me down the courtroom and I sat between Samantha and my father, my head held high yet my thoughts swimming with confusion and doubt. I stared straight ahead and then felt my father’s arm wrap around my shoulder and pull me into his side. I turned my head to look at him and his eyes were reassuring.
“I love you, Dad.” He smiled and kissed my forehead.
“I love you too, Darling.”
Chapter 25
Marshal was called to the stand next. As I saw him being escorted through the courtroom, his hands cuffed behind his back, his face scared and his body nearly shaking, it took nearly all of my remaining energy to stay in my seat. I longed to comfort him, to tell him that I never wished any of this for him, to tell him that his actions had redeemed his misjudgments.
His hands were released from behind his back and he rubbed his wrists before placing his hand on the Bible and swearing his oath. He sat with his head down. He hadn’t looked at me or his brother and I wondered if this was the first time the brothers had seen each other since the day of their arrest. Ray clenched his jaw and glared at the courtroom. My heart broke for Marshal.
I watched the interpreter and waited for Evans to begin his questioning. Marshal kept his head down through his entire retelling of the night of September 2. He cried when he told the jury that he had been prepared to kill me if Ray had commanded it. He explained how he had thrown Julie’s body over the cliff and into the ocean. He smiled once when he told the court about the food he had brought me and about how I had taught him sign language. He started shaking when he was asked about how Ray had hurt me by holding a knife to my neck and hitting me with enough force to knock me off my feet.
