Daunting Days of Winter (16 page)

Next, Jennifer was called to the stand, and Kyle was so nervous he couldn’t look her in the eye. He knew what she was going through and he had to fight to control his emotions. He watched as his wife raised her shaking right hand and was sworn in, her voice sounding stronger than he expected. He forced himself to make eye contact, and she smiled.

Boyd walked towards Jennifer, stopping halfway between the defense table and the witness. “Mrs. Tait. Thank you for being here today.”

Jennifer nodded and smiled. Kyle could see her legs bouncing nervously.

Boyd continued. “I know this must be difficult for you, but you know Kyle better than anyone, and you saw him in the hours before and after his shift on the day this terrible tragedy occurred.”

Jennifer’s back was straight, and she watched Boyd with a warm confidence. “I think it’s important for me to be here today. I want justice to be served.”

“How long have you known Kyle?”

She beamed at the crowd. “It’s been eighteen wonderful years.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Sixteen years, five months.”

Boyd laughed a little, then continued. “In all the time you’ve know Kyle, has he ever hit you?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Never. We’ve had our disagreements, and he’s gotten mad at me before, but he’s never even threatened to strike me.”

“Has he ever hit your children?”

“They’ve had a few spankings, but that’s it. Just a couple of swats on their backsides, to get their attention.”

“Any legal issues he’s had to deal with?”

“None that I knew of. The situation with the beer in high school was news to me. I’m going to remember that one for a while and use it to my advantage.” A couple of the jurors laughed along with Jennifer.

“Has Kyle ever done anything that would make you think he had the capacity to commit the crime he’s accused of?”

“Nothing at all. I’m 100% sure he would never do anything like that.”

“When he came home last Thursday morning was there anything out of the ordinary about his behavior? Was he acting strangely?”

She thought a second, then shook her head. “It was a normal morning. He was tired, he had a little something to eat, then he went to bed. It was just like most mornings.”

“Did he act nervous? Frightened?”

“No.”

“Did he ask to get up early, so he could go hide evidence?”

“No.”

“Any injuries?”

“No.”

“Did he act sore or uncomfortable?”

“He said his toes were cold because the temperatures were pretty low that night, but that’s it.”

“How did he act when he found out Leah’s body had been found?”

“He was completely shocked, especially when we were told the body was found in our home. I could tell it caught him completely off guard.”

Boyd continued questioning Jennifer for twenty more minutes before concluding and turning her over to Helen. Jennifer smiled confidently. Her testimony appeared to resonate with the jurors. Kyle felt a huge weight lifting from his shoulders.

Helen clasped her hands in front of her and smiled at Jennifer. “I can tell you really love your husband.”

“I do, very much.”

“Couples so much in love are a dying breed. Anything you wouldn’t do for your husband?”

“No. I’d do…” Jennifer paused. “I love him very much. Everything I’ve said has been the truth. I wouldn’t sell my soul for him, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Helen stepped casually towards the jurors. “I understand you’ve suffered some pretty traumatic things over the past few months.”

Jennifer studied Helen closely and thought about her response. “Yes. I think we all have. I don’t know that I’m that different from anyone else.”

“Oh, come now, Jennifer. I think it’s been pretty rough for you, even by current standards. Your husband gone, your attempted rape, and that unfortunate situation where you had to kill a man. Now Kyle accused of this terrible crime. I don’t know anyone who comes close to your struggles.”

Jennifer nodded. She looked at Helen intently but remained silent.

“Rape is a pretty intense experience. I’ve worked with a number of assault victims and know that it can take a long time to recover from the trauma.”

“It does. It’s been more difficult than I would have hoped, but having Kyle home has helped tremendously.” Jennifer glanced at Kyle, whose eyes were locked on her, and she smiled at him just a little. It spoke volumes to him.

Kyle mouthed, “I love you,” to his wife, and she turned away, feeling the tears building in her eyes.

Helen paused for a second, then pressed on. “This is a personal question, and I’m sorry I have to ask it, but when was the last time you had sex with your husband?”

Jennifer paused. “I beg your pardon?”

The prosecutor cleared her throat. Every person in the courtroom got quiet, the room so silent that you could have heard a snow flake land on the roof. “I asked when you last had sex with your husband. Sometimes it can take months, or even years, for rape victims to be comfortable with intimacy again. It’s a terrible crime. Much more than physical scarring takes place, as you no doubt know. In your case, it would be even worse, with your daughter there and your son nearly being killed.”

Jennifer’s mind spun; she looked at Kyle, panicked.

Kyle could see the turmoil on her face. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and felt his heart pounding.

“And remember, Jennifer,” Helen said, stepping closer, her tone warm and understanding, like a longtime friend. “Remember that you’ve sworn to tell the truth. I know this is a personal question, but it’s important for us to understand everything. Maybe let me rephrase the question. How many times have you had sex with your husband since the EMP occurred, FIVE months ago?”

Jennifer felt the room spin as she formed the answer. “Once,” she said, her voice trembling and barely audile, even in a room full of people straining to hear her reply.

“I’m sorry,” Helen said, stepping back. “I don’t think our jurors could hear that. Could you repeat your answer, a little louder?”

She closed her eyes. “Once,” she said, loud enough to be heard most of the way to the back of the room. Jennifer’s mind raced back over the two months since Kyle’s return. That he was interested was not in doubt. The comments, the touches, the looks were obvious, but something in her had changed. Doug’s escalating harassment and the intense foulness of everything he’d done to her that night, David’s nearly bleeding to death in her bedroom, and Emma’s trauma had all made that part of her dry up. Compound that with the reality that their children slept in the same room, showers were rare, birth control was a calendar, toothpaste was a distant memory, and she felt like she resembled a starving prisoner of war. All of it had resulted in not just an absence of desire, but an aversion to the thought of it.

Once, about a month ago, she had forced herself to respond to his caresses, but Kyle had known it was difficult for her, to the point that he had apologized afterwards. She had hoped it was satisfying for him, but with his apology, she’d burst into tears and been depressed for the remainder of the day. For his part, Kyle had been wonderful, telling her how beautiful she was, reminding her what she meant to him, never pressuring her for anything more than a hug and a kiss. Now this. Her hang-ups made him look deprived and guilty.

“So, Mrs. Tait.” Helen paused and looked at Jennifer, at Kyle, at Leah’s family, then back at Jennifer. Indecision marked her face, and she took a couple deep breaths. She looked back at Leah’s father, then her jaw tightened, and she continued. “If I understand this correctly, in the ten weeks your husband’s been home, you’ve had sexual relations with him only one time. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“A healthy, sexually-active male. How’d he take the neglect?”

Jennifer swallowed, her eyes glistened, but she didn’t answer.

Helen pushed on. “I also understand he was gone for about three months prior to that.”

Jennifer nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“So, in five and a half months, he’s had sex one time that you know of. At his age, that’s got to be pretty difficult, wouldn’t you think?” Again no answer. “Is he a eunuch or something?”

No one in the room laughed.

Helen turned to the jury. Their eyes were riveted on her. “You think a man quits wanting sex because you don’t feel like it?” Her voice was rising, her pace quickening. “You think he’d quit wanting food if you stopped feeding him? We already know he killed at least one person on his way home from Texas. How about rape? We can’t be sure about that, other than what he tells us. Crossing the country, armed, no witnesses. Who knows what kind of trail he left in his wake. Then he gets home, his wife, unable to perform, and no hookers around. What would you expect?”

Jennifer sobbed from the witness chair, her shoulders rising and falling, her face buried in her hands, a muffled “I’m sorry,” heard through the tears.

“Stop it!” Kyle jumped to his feet and glared at the prosecutor. “Stop it right now! She doesn’t deserve this; she’s not on trial.” Boyd tugged on Kyle’s arm but Kyle batted his hand away. The two guards positioned behind him jumped to their feet and grabbed ahold of Kyle’s arms. Kyle began to pull away but stopped as a murmur rippled through the courtroom.

Helen stepped back and looked nervously to the front, towards Gabe and Don.

“Kyle, sit down!” Boyd hissed, looking uneasily at the jurors.

“Jennifer, don’t be sorry,” Kyle pleaded, eyes locked on his wife. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He jerked an arm away from one of the guards and glared at them, then dropped back into his chair.

Helen caught her breath. “Temper, Mr. Tait. Try not to lose control,” she taunted, before turning her attention to the jurors. “Hopefully you can disregard that little bit of drama. You never know what a trial will bring, especially under conditions like these.” She turned back towards Jennifer, her tone less combative. “Let me conclude, Mrs. Tait. Your husband’s sexual activity has been pretty minimal the last six months, has it not?”

Jennifer wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded. “It has, but that’s my fault, not his.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. When a man is starving, he will go looking for food, don’t you think?”

“Not Kyle.”

Helen looked at Jennifer, admiring her devotion. “I have no further questions.” She clasped her hands together and smiled sincerely. “I’m truly sorry for all the stress you’re under. You’re a brave woman.”

CHAPTER 20

Wednesday, January 25
^th

Deer Creek, MT

Kyle heard someone in the room above him toss a log on the fire, followed by the sound of a poker scraping on the brick hearth. Kyle’s sleeping pad was up against the fireplace’s brick foundation, the warmest location in the crawlspace, and while the crawlspace was not as warm as the main floor, it was well above freezing and much warmer than he feared it would be when he had first been locked in his underground cell.

The defense had concluded midafternoon, allowing both sides time to present their closing arguments before the end of the day. The verdict was now in the hands of the jurors and would likely be decided soon, since the case wasn’t long or complicated, and there wasn’t much evidence to consider. As Helen had summarized, repeatedly, Leah Smith had been sexually assaulted, and her body had been found in the basement of a sexually starved, admitted killer, with whom she’d had previous contact, on a night he was working alone and couldn’t provide an alibi.

Boyd had countered that there was no evidence linking Kyle and Leah, no witnesses to the crime, no confession, and no history to indicate Kyle would commit such a violent crime. Unfortunately, the defense attorney’s dry, insecure approach had been tedious in comparison to Helen’s practiced dramatics, and by Kyle’s observations, the jurors’ attentiveness was more evident when she spoke than when Boyd did.

Lying in the oppressive darkness of the crawlspace, Kyle tried to think of what he could have done differently, to avoid being where he was, to have prevented this whole mess, but came up with little. Maybe he could’ve made sure his house was locked, or taken a different shift. When it came down to it, though, there really wasn’t much that would have made a difference.

Kyle heard more noises upstairs. A chair squeaked, followed by footsteps moving towards the front door. Grit dropped onto his cheek through a crack in the floor above, and he wiped it away. He heard voices and a muffled conversation, then footsteps approaching the hatch that accessed the crawlspace. The chest that secured the trap door scraped the floor as it was pushed away, followed by the rasping of stiff hinges being pulled upward. Kyle climbed to his feet and shuffled over below the door with his head ducked low, guided by the faint orange glow from the opening.

“Tait! You’ve got a visitor.” The gruff voice came from one of the guards from Clinton who helped watch Kyle each night, a man whose name Kyle didn’t care to learn.

“Who is it?” Kyle asked, his voice rising from the soupy darkness.

“It’s me, Kyle,” Jennifer said, peering into the opening.

Kyle’s heart skipped at the sound of her voice. “Jennifer?”

“Can I come down?”

“Of course. Is it okay?”

“I told her it would be fine,” Gabe said as he crouched by the hatch. “I walked her over here so there wouldn’t be any questions. We can’t allow you to come out until after the verdict, but I didn’t think there’d be any harm in Jennifer spending some time with you here, assuming you’re good with that.”

Kyle quickly repositioned the stepladder he used to access his cell to a spot easier for Jennifer to reach. “You have no idea how good I am with that.”

Jennifer sat on the edge of the opening and lowered her legs. Kyle lightly grabbed an ankle with one hand and guided it to the top step of the ladder; his other hand held the ladder still. Gabe and the guard stood ready to help her, but she found her footing and descended out of view.