“Yes.”
“What hurt you?”
“The actual exam.”
“The internal part of the exam?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Before you left, had they treated you for sexually transmitted diseases? Did they give you a pregnancy test?” Buess glanced at the jury after she asked the question.
“I believe so, yes.” Janske seemed embarrassed as she answered.
“Do you know what kind of medications it was that you were supposed to take?”
“They gave me medicine in case I had gotten an STD, preventative type.”
“And when you say ‘STD,’ to prevent you from developing any sexually transmitted disease?”
“Yes.”
“Do you recall, later on, meeting with Officer Maughmer and giving her as much information as you could about what had happened? A statement? A formal statement?”
“Yes.”
“Were there things that you recalled later on that you probably hadn’t told the officer [when she] first arrived?”
“Yes.”
“Selma, did you and I talk well prior to trial about a DNA match in this case?” Buess looked conciliatory as she asked Janske the question.
“Yes, we did,” Janske calmly replied.
“And you knew who the DNA from your rape kit matched to?”
“Yes.”
“Tell the jury how you felt about that at that time.”
“Well, I had already known that he had confessed to raping me.”
“How did you find out about that?”
“A police officer showed up at my door.”
“Did they ask you if you had been raped?”
“They said that they had—my name had come up in an investigation that they were doing and that I needed to come downtown.”
“Did you go downtown?”
“Yes.”
“Was there anything for you to do there?” the prosecutor wondered.
“I gave another statement.”
“How did you feel about coming here to testify today?”
“Pretty nervous.”
“Are you glad to have it over with?”
“Very,” she replied politely.
“Pass the witness, Your Honor,” the assistant district attorney concluded her direct examination. The defense had no questions for Selma Janske.
“You may step down,” Judge Cosper gently informed the young lady.
As she stepped away from the witness stand, it was evident that the entire audience in the gallery and the jury box had been moved by the young woman’s plight. Bob King would later say that the jury was ready to give Anthony Allen Shore the death penalty based on Selma Janske’s testimony alone, and she actually survived one of his attacks.
CHAPTER 60
Wednesday, October 27, 2004,
Harris County Courthouse,
1201 Franklin Street,
Courtroom #337,
Houston, Texas.
Prosecutor Kelly Siegler was eager to floor the jury. If Tony Shore wanted the death penalty, she was going to be sure he got his wish. She continued her portion of the penalty phase with testimony from two key individuals who had no involvement in the murders whatsoever—Tony Shore’s own two daughters.
“Judge, the state calls Amber Shore McCabe,” Siegler declared.
The young lady, now all of twenty, shuffled into the witness stand and was sworn in.
“Could you tell us all your name, please?” Siegler asked.
The witness leaned forward in her seat and spoke into the microphone. “Amber Fallon Shore.”
“Amber, how old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes.”
“And is your husband in court here with you today?”
“Yes.”
“And also your mother-in-law?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Since January 24, 2004.”
“Maybe the jury could tell when you walked up, but are you pregnant now?”
“Yes.” She smiled as she answered.
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Tiffany Shore.”
“Can you tell the jury a little bit about Tiffany? What’s she like?”
“She’s really friendly, outgoing, a people-person type,” Amber stated with a smile.
“Who’s older? You or Tiffany?”
“Me.”
“How much older are you than Tiffany?”
“A year-and-a-half.”
“Have you ever testified in a courtroom before?”
“No.”
“Are you nervous today?”
“Yes,” she admitted as she shifted in the witness stand.
“Let’s start off with some easy questions. What’s your mom’s name?”
“Gina Shore.”
“And when you were little, did there come a time when your parents got divorced?”
“Yes.”
“About how old were you when they divorced?”
“Nine or ten.”
“When your parents got divorced, Amber, who got custody of you and your sister at first?”
“My mom.”
“So how did you end up living with your dad after your mom got custody in the divorce?”
“My mom wanted to carry on with her new boyfriend, so she sent us to live with our dad.”
“And how old were you when you went to live with your dad?”
“Nine or ten.”
“What high school did you go to?”
“I didn’t go to high school. It was, like, a home-school thing. And I didn’t stick around long.”
“How far did you get in school?”
“To the tenth grade.”
“And why didn’t you stick around, Amber?”
“I just didn’t like it there.”
“When is the last time that you saw your mom?”
“Last year in October.”
“And are you planning on visiting with her while you’re in town for this trip?”
“Yes.”
“Tell the jury how you feel about being here to testify today.”
“Not really good about it,” Amber answered while purposely avoiding eye contact with her father. Tony Shore, however, looked directly at his oldest daughter.
“Amber, who is Tony Shore?”
“He is my biological father.”
“And why did you say ‘biological father’?”
“Meaning that he’s not a stepdad or adopted or nothing. He’s my blood-born father.”
“When is the last time you saw your dad before today?”
“Thirteen.”
“When you were thirteen?”
“Yeah.”
“So, about seven years ago?” the prosecutor calculated.
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell the jury a little bit about your mother? What sort of problems does your mom have? What kind of mom was she when you were little?”
“She was a good mother. She was more, like, a friend-type person; and as we started growing up, she was more of a friend.”
“Amber, I want you to talk just a little while today, and we’ll do this as fast as possible, like I told you. Did there come a time when you were little that your dad started doing things to you and touching you inappropriately sexually?” This time it was the jury members and the audience that shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“Yes,” Amber replied without showing any weakness.
“And that started when you were how old?”
“Like, kindergarten age.”
“What house were you living in and who were you living with when it started?”
“Both my parents, and in an apartment.”
“And then when you moved to the house on Eighteenth Street, did it continue?”
“Yeah.”
“And who was the last lady your dad was living with, back w
hen you were thirteen and it all ended?”
“Amy Lynch,” Amber answered in reference to Shore’s second wife.
“Tell the jury what your dad would do when you would be in your bedroom at night, when he would come to the doorway of your bedroom.”
“He would stand unclothed and touch himself inappropriately.”
“And would you and your sister be in your bedroom when that happened?”
“Yes.”
“Did there come a time when he would come into your bedroom and touch you?”
“Yes.”
“And this, the touching, started when you were how old, Amber?”
“Kindergarten age. Six.” Some of the jury members actually flinched at the answer.
“And it continued until you were how old?”
“Thirteen.”
“And your dad would touch you underneath your panties and your shirt?”
“Yes.”
“And did he ever take your clothes off?”
“Just the underwear,” Amber answered.
“And did he have clothes on when this would happen?”
“I don’t know. My eyes were closed.”
“How did he touch you?”
“With his hands.”
“And when he would touch you with his hands, with his fingers, did he touch your breast area?”
“Yes.”
“And did he touch your vagina?”
“The outside, yes.”
“And how about your rear, your anus? Did he touch you there too?”
“Yes.”
“When you were little, and he would touch you that way, did you say anything to him?” Siegler asked Tony Shore’s oldest daughter.
“No, I was too scared to acknowledge that I was awake or even knew about it,” Amber responded.
“Too scared to acknowledge what?”
“Too scared to acknowledge I was awake.”
“Because you pretended what?”
“To be asleep.”
“Why did you pretend to be asleep?”
“Because I was worried, if I woke up, he might do more or something.”
“When you were little, did you tell any grown-ups about it, back when you were little?”
“Like kindergarten age?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Did you tell your sister?”
“No.”
“Did there come a time when your school nurse kind of figured out or became aware of what was going on?”
“Yes.”
“And how old were you when the school nurse kind of figured something out?”
“In the fourth grade.”
“And after the school nurse figured something out, did CPS come to your house?”
“Yes.”
“And is that the house on Eighteenth Street?”
“Yes.”
“When CPS came, did they come and talk to you and your sister?” the ADA inquired.
“Yes.”
“And did CPS talk to you in front of your father?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell them what was going on when they came to your house back then, Amber?”
“No.”
“Tell the jury why not.”
Amber focused her attention on the jury panel. “Because after they left, Dad told us that we would be taken away and probably put in separate homes with foster parents. And I wouldn’t have my dog and it would be really sad and terrible how we felt about it, to be separated from our family.”
“At that time, did he tell you anything about being sorry and that it wouldn’t happen anymore?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he was really sorry. I don’t know the words exactly, but, basically, he was very sorry and felt really awful about it and he would never do it again. And that’s why he got me the dog. It was an apology. And that he promised he would never do it again.”
“And after your dad made those promises to you, after the CPS people came to your house, did there come a night after that when you were in the bathroom when Lizz [Martin] found you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened that night that made you go into the bathroom?” Siegler asked.
“I don’t remember really,” Amber responded.
“Do you remember Lizz finding you on the bathroom floor?”
“Yes.”
“And the next morning, did you tell Lizz why you were on the bathroom floor and what was going on?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell Lizz, Amber?”
“I didn’t like to talk about things.”
“Tell the jury why you didn’t like to talk about things and why you didn’t talk to grown-ups about any of all of this.”
“I was accused of being autistic and I had an imagination and I just kind of brushed it off always, like, ‘think before you speak’ kind of stuff.”
“What do you mean when you say you were accused of having an imagination?”
“Like, if I say I saw something or the cat looks sick or something like that, kind of just . . .”
“Blow you off?” Siegler interjected.
“Yeah,” Amber responded.
“So why did you never tell a grown-up about what was going on with your dad?”
“Just not in the habit of it. Probably just didn’t cross my mind.”
“What sort of names and things did your dad call you growing up?”
“Shithead.”
“Do you think you’re smart, Amber?”
“Yeah.”
“Who do you think is smarter, you or your sister?”
“Probably my sister.”
“Did there come a time in 1997 when you and your sister went to California?”
“Yes.”
“To see and stay with who?”
“My grandmother on my dad’s side.”
“And why did y’all go see your grandmother?”
“Because it was my dad and Amy’s honeymoon and they wanted to be alone.”
“And did there come a time while you were in California when you told somebody about what was going on back in Houston?”
“Yes.”
“Who did you tell?”
“My sister.”
“And eventually did your grandmother find out?”
“Yes.”
“And also your aunt Gina, did she also find out?”
“Yes.”
“And after y’all told your grandmother what was going on, did the police officers and the CPS people there in Sacramento come and talk to y’all?”
“Yes.”
“And did they interview you on a videotape and take your statement and all that?”
“Yes.”
“And is that what led to the charges being filed on your father down here in Harris County?”
“Yeah.”
“But you were never called back to Houston to testify about all that back then, were you?”
“No.”
“When all this happened, and [it] came out in California, were you also asked to go down to let a doctor look at you to do a sexual assault kit or rape assault kit or something like that?” Siegler gingerly asked the young lady.
“Yes,” Amber answered.
“Did you agree at first to let the doctor examine you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I was uncomfortable about it.”
“What do you mean you were uncomfortable?”
“Just emotionally, I was uncomfortable.”
“When you went to California back in ’97, and way back in those days, how did you dress usually?”
“I wore too much clothes.”
“Tell the jury why you wore too much clothes,” Siegler asked as she spun around and faced the jurors.
“To cover myself,” Amber replied.
“And how good were you back then at taking care of your body an
d taking baths and all that?”
“Not very good.”
“Why not?”
“Because I felt uncomfortable getting dressed,” Amber answered.
“Even by yourself alone?”
“Yeah, I felt kind of paranoid or something.”
“Did you sleep with your dog back then?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it would protect me.”
“From who?”
“My dad,” Amber admitted.
“When you went to California, had you noticed any changes in your sister sometime before you and her went to California?”
“Yes.”
“About how long before then?”
“About a year, maybe two.”
“And tell us the difference between the old Tiffany and the Tiffany you saw the year before you went to California,” Siegler requested.
“The old Tiffany was really happy and outgoing,” Amber remembered, “and she liked being around people. She liked lots of attention. She was a people kind of person. She liked to express her talents. She loved singing and dancing and playing her guitar. And she was really proud of her accomplishments at school, like being in Band Guard and such.”
“And the new Tiffany? The different Tiffany?”
“Then she started getting less confident about herself. She started dressing more differently, like more bigger clothes. She wasn’t interested in school as much. She was losing confidence in herself, in her talent. She didn’t like to sing anymore. She criticized herself about her music and her other talents.”
“Tell the jury why it is that you finally had the courage to tell what your dad had been doing to you.”
“Because it really upset me that something like that would happen to my sister,” Amber stated clearly, then looked at the jury with almost pleading eyes.
“How do you feel about your sister?”
“She’s a really good person and I thought she didn’t deserve that. She was doing better than I did. She probably had a better chance or whatever. I was Special Ed and destined to fail and wasn’t as confident about myself as I was in her.”
“When you were growing up in your dad’s house, Amber, how would he react to y’all when y’all would cry?”
“He would act like it drove him crazy or something.” Amber’s voice became raised.
“What would he do and what would he say when you and your sister would cry when you were little?”
“He told us to shut up or he’d give us a real spanking and yell, ‘Stop crying!’ continuously.”
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