She tried to find her voice, to tell him thank you, but it was hidden deeper in her chest than she could reach. Instead, they sat softly, him gently rocking her back and forth, and her pretending she was anywhere but here.
Chapter Twenty
Caide
Caide walked the halls of the courthouse, looking for one person. She has to be here somewhere. Suddenly, the doors to a hallway he’d yet to check opened and he saw her bun emerge.
“Avery,” he called, running toward her.
She crossed her arms, smiling. “Caide Abbott. You’re the last person I’d expect to come looking for me.”
“I need a favor.”
“And why would I do you any favors?”
“I need you to put me on the stand.”
She stared at him for a second, her expression stoic. “You know I can’t do that.”
“You can. I’m requesting it.”
The smile left her face. “You have to know that’s a suicide mission. I mean, I want to win this case as much as the next person, but to win like this it hardly seems fair. What could you possibly have to gain?”
“She didn’t do this, Jeanna. I have to do what I can to help my wife. They won’t even let me see her. This is all I know to do.”
“Abbott, look. I can’t imagine what this must be like for you, but you aren’t thinking clearly. I hardly think of you as a friend but I’m not completely heartless. Being a witness for me, it’s only going to hurt your wife’s case. I won’t help you. I won’t go easy on you. I came to win.”
“Hampton won’t put me on the stand.”
“For good reason. There are laws in place for a purpose.”
“Look, I know what I’m doing. It’s got to be you. I’m not asking you to do me any favors. I’m not asking you to go easy on me. I know what I’m getting myself into better than anyone. Please. Just put me on the stand.”
She was silent, staring at him haphazardly. “I’ll talk to the judge. I’m not making any promises. You’d better know what you’re doing, Caide.”
“I do.”
“I won’t go easy on you.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to make you look really, really bad.”
“I know that too.”
“I’m going to use everything you say and everything in my power to make sure that your wife goes to prison for a long, long time.”
“And I’m going to use everything in my power to make sure she doesn’t.”
Avery nodded as Caide turned to walk back toward the courtroom.
Avery was tough. He knew a lot about her from Mason and Meachum. She’d had three rough marriages and lost her son a few years ago. Caide had seen her be ruthless and he knew today would be no different. He knew she thought he’d just given her the golden ticket to win this case, but he was planning to use that every bit to his own advantage.
Chapter Twenty-One
Judge Crafton
“You want to do what?” Daniel Crafton was a reasonable man. In his eight years as a judge he’d seen a lot of crazy things in his courtroom, but never had he been asked what he was being asked now. “Avery, you’ve got to be joking. You know the laws.”
“The law says that the husband and wife can choose to waive it. Caide Abbott has requested this. He knows what he’s doing, your honor.”
“Of course he doesn’t. If he did he wouldn’t ask. What does he have that makes him think this is a good idea?”
“He wants to help his wife. He’s usually one of us, Daniel. But today is different, today he’s a hurting husband on the opposite end of the bench. Today, he’s just like any of them. He thinks he can help.”
“You think he can’t?”
“Hampton won’t put him on the stand. Whatever he’s planning to say, I’m not worried about it hurting my case. I don’t believe he’s thinking straight.” She crossed her arms.
“I wouldn’t be.” He rubbed his temple, taking his glasses off his nose.
“Look, I agree it’s probably a bad idea. I didn’t like it at first either, but if this is what it takes to lock up a guilty woman then so be it. I have to try. A woman is dead, Daniel. He was having an affair with that woman, maybe he was in love with her, I don’t know. I can’t imagine this from his point of view, but it’s time for him to decide who he’s loyal to and if I can use that to my advantage then I’d like the chance to do that. I just want justice to be served, through whatever means necessary.”
“Fine, but you’re going to tell the defense, not me. Where is Hampton?”
“I haven’t seen him since you called recess. I can check with his client?”
“No, send a bailiff. You stay here and come up with a damn good reason why this is a good idea. If there’s one thing I don’t need, it’s to be on Argus Hampton’s bad side.”
***
Bailiff Isaac Lawson
“Bailiff Lawson,” came Avery’s voice through the empty hallway, “go get Hampton quickly please. Tell him the judge needs to see him immediately.”
Lawson nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” He took one last sip of his Dr. Pepper before throwing it out.
He walked through the hall of holding cells, all full of people waiting for their trials. Even working around criminals daily, they still made Isaac nervous. Finally, he reached the cell where Mrs. Abbott was being held. He stuck his key into the door and pulled it open.
He laid eyes on Mr. Hampton along the wall, Rachael Abbott’s head resting on his shoulder. Unmoving, they sat side by side, both of their eyes closed. They looked so comfortable, it was easy to forget they were sitting in a jail cell, rather than on a cozy back porch somewhere.
As Isaac took a careful step toward them, Hampton’s eyes shot open.
“Sir?”
A look of realization filled Hampton’s face. He lifted Rachael’s head off of his shoulder, leaning her onto the wall he’d been pressed up against. Standing up quickly, he brushed himself off and cleared his throat. “What is it?”
“Avery is in with the judge. She’s asking for you, says it’s urgent.”
“Did she say what it was about?”
“They don’t keep me in the loop, sir.”
“Right, of course. Thanks. I’ll head that way. Hey, listen, could I get you to stay with my client?” He asked, turning around as he got to the door.
Isaac swallowed, looking at the defendant, whose eyes were now open, staring dreamily into space.
“For God’s sakes kid, she’s not going to kill you.” He lowered his voice. “She’s had a rough day. She just needs someone to stay with her.” He moved the chair out from the table. “Just, here, sit in this chair and watch her. Please.”
Isaac sat down, keeping his chair a safe distance from the defendant. He’d been working at the courthouse for only about a year now so he was mostly thrown on small cases: petty theft, a few drug charges, even a kidnapping once. He’d never been in the same room with a killer before. He wasn’t scared, he told himself, just cautious. He still had a lot to live for.
Hampton rolled his eyes and darted from the room.
She didn’t move, not a single muscle. It was as if she thought if she was still enough, unnoticed enough, she might disappear forever. Isaac swore he never even saw her blink. Is she even breathing? After a few moments passed, his heartrate slowed down. There was something about her that made him feel at ease, made him almost feel sorry for her. She’s a killer. You cannot feel sorry for a killer, man. As if she’d heard his thoughts, her eyes turned to meet his. They say eyes are the windows into the soul. Isaac had seen many convicts in his line of work and he made a point to remember their eyes. They almost all had the same look, especially on their court date: empty, cold, cruel. Rachael Abbott was one of the others, the different ones, the ones Isaac hated the most. It was them with their puppy dog eyes, their fake tears, and their faces with glimmers of hope that made him sick. It was this small group of convicts that made his job so hard. It was hard to hate someone, h
ard to convict someone, hard to hope for their downfall when they looked so completely innocent.
***
Hampton
Hampton walked to the judge’s chambers with dread filling his stomach. He pushed the door open and was immediately met by Avery’s smug grin.
“What’s this about?”
“I’ve added a last minute update to my witness list, Hampton, I just wanted to let you prepare.”
“Who?”
Avery smiled, folding her arms across her chest. “Caide Abbott.”
“My client’s husband?” He looked to the judge. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re allowing this?”
“Mr. Abbott has requested it.” Avery answered for him.
“There are laws against this. You can’t be serious.”
“Those laws are to prevent trouble in the marital home, I think we’re way past that don’t you?” Avery asked.
“Judge?”
“Hampton, the husband has requested it. I’ve spoken to him myself. I don’t know why but we’re all just going to have to let this play out. Avery, you so much as step over the line once and I’ll pull him from the stand. Hampton, you can use this to your advantage too. He wants to defend his wife, so let him. I don’t like this one bit, for the record, but I’ll admit I’m a bit curious as to what the husband has up his sleeve.”
“Thanks.” Hampton grabbed the door handle, anger boiling inside him. Caide Abbott was going to ruin his wife’s only chance at freedom and Hampton had no idea why.
“Oh, and Hampton?”
“Yeah?”
“Prepare your client,” The judge said, an apology in his eyes. “This won’t be easy on her.”
“None of this is,” Hampton called over his shoulder, storming out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Caide
Caide’s heart pounded. He tried to get a good look at Rachael, attempting to read her face but she wouldn’t look his way.
Avery stood, looking out across the courtroom. “For our next witness, the prosecution would like to call Caide Abbott to the stand.”
Gasps rang out throughout the courtroom. Rachael looked down, refusing to meet Caide’s worried eyes. Whispers followed him as he approached the witness stand, they were only silenced as Avery began her questioning.
“Mr. Abbott, could you tell us the nature of the relationship between the defendant and yourself?”
“I’m her husband,” he replied, looking the jury in the eyes.
“And you’ve asked to serve as a witness today of your own accord, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“You weren’t paid or coerced in any way?”
“No. It was my idea.”
“Thank you. Now, can you tell the jury what your relationship was with the victim?”
A lump formed in Caide’s throat. “We worked together.”
“You are under oath, Mr. Abbott, just a reminder.”
“She was in love with me.” He sighed. “There isn’t an answer to this question. We were close because we worked together. We had feelings for each other, feelings that shouldn’t have happened. They were a mistake. We weren’t actively together, she wasn’t my girlfriend, and we weren’t having an affair. She was a friend.”
“Did you sleep together?”
“Yes. Once.” He kept his eyes on Avery.
“On the night of her murder?”
“Yes.”
“It was also pointed out earlier that you frequently took her out to dinner. Is that correct?”
“For work, yes.”
“How many times?”
“Over the course of seven years? I don’t know.”
“More than twenty?”
“Yes. Usually about once a week, so three or four times a month.”
“Did your wife know about these dinner dates?”
“Again, not dates, but yes she did.”
“And did these dinners include alcohol?”
“Occasionally, yes.”
“Were you ever alone with Miss Underwood for the dinners?” She leaned onto the witness stand as if they were old pals.
“Of course, a few times. I also ate alone with Brian, Mason, and Meachum on several occasions each. We work at a law firm that requires a lot of long hours and late nights. There is no difference in the dinners I had with Blaire than the dinners I had with my other coworkers.”
“Tell us, Caide, did you have sex with your other coworkers?”
A few of the jurors chuckled. Caide threw them a menacing glare. “No.”
“There’s your difference then. So, walk us through the day Miss Underwood was murdered.”
“I woke up and went to work. Blaire was already there. Her car had been left there because we had a dinner and she rode with me, at the request of our bosses. When I got there her tires had all been slashed and the tow truck was there picking up her car.”
“Let me stop you for a second, you took Miss Underwood to dinner?”
“Yes. With our bosses and a client.”
“Why didn’t you bring her to get her car afterwards?”
“I just didn’t. We were out late, we were both tired. I just took her home without thinking about it.”
“Miss Underwood didn’t ask you to take her to get her car?”
He paused, trying to word his story correctly. “It was a stressful night. We’d been in a fight. I didn’t think about her not having the car until the next morning.”
“Did you go into the house with her that night?”
“No.”
“Anyone who can attest to that? A roommate? Maybe a neighbor?”
“No. I don’t think so. It was late.”
“Did you have sex with her that night?”
“No.”
“Did you have intimate relations of any kind?”
“We kissed. It was a mistake.”
Avery nodded. “So, you kissed her, you were fighting and then you dropped her off with no car. Was she upset?”
“Of course she was.”
“Upset enough to call your wife? Tell her what had happened? Upset enough to set you up, to allow your wife to catch you two in the act?”
“God, no. Blaire wouldn’t do that. She was mad, sure, but she still loved me.”
“So, when you got home that night, did you see your wife?”
“She was asleep.”
“Okay. Now, back to the day of the murder, Miss Underwood’s tires were coincidently slashed, just after you’d had a fight with your mistress, what next?”
“We didn’t see each other much that day at all. At some point during the day she put in her notice. I didn’t know she was planning to until it was already done. She never even told me why. I’d missed work for the past two weeks after my car accident so I stayed at the office to work late. When I got ready to leave Blaire and Brian were still there. I sent Brian home, as you know, because he had been working late. I was planning to head out myself. Before I left though, I admit, I wanted to talk to Blaire. I wanted to know why she was leaving, to make sure it wasn’t because of me. Instead, I made a mistake.” He looked at Rachael for the first time, his eyes pleading with her to forgive him. “I made a horrible mistake.”
“You had sex.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a question but he answered anyway.
“Did you call your wife to let her know you’d be late?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you tell her why?”
“I told her I was working late.”
“So you had sex with Miss Underwood. What next?”
“It was over as soon as it started. Blaire kept hearing a noise. She thought someone was upstairs.”
“What kind of noise?”
“I never heard it. I thought maybe it was just a janitor. We never checked to see, we were too embarrassed.”
“So what did you do?”
“I left. I went home. I mean, I offered to wait but she was upset and I freaked out. Sh
e said she’d call a cab and I could go, so I did.”
“How gentlemanly of you. So when you arrived at your home, was your wife there?”
“Yes. She was asleep.”
“So you went straight to bed?”
“Yes. Well, no. I took a shower first.”
“Are you a light sleeper, Mr. Abbott?”
“I don’t know. Sort of.”
“What I’m asking Mr. Abbott is: if your wife were to get out of bed in the middle of the night to say, I don’t know, commit a murder, would it have woken you up?”
“Yes. It would have. I always wake up when she gets up in the night to use the bathroom or if the kids have a nightmare.”
“So you can be absolutely certain then, under oath, that your wife never left your bed that night?”
Caide started to nod, but stopped, thinking back to that night. “She never came to bed.”
“You just said—”
“I said she was asleep, yes, but she was asleep in my daughter’s bed. She never came to ours.”
The jury looked at each other in shock.
“Did that strike you as odd, Mr. Abbott?”
“My daughter is seven. Rachael usually makes it back to our bed once Brinley falls asleep, but occasionally she doesn’t. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Was she still in your daughter’s bed when you woke up the next morning?”
“No. She’d woken up before me. She was fixing breakfast when I woke up.”
If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) Page 10
