If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) (12 page)

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. She 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.”

“And what was her mood like?”

“She was happy, I guess. She was fixing breakfast for everyone.”

“Did your wife ever give you any indication that she’d known about your affair?”

“It wasn’t an affair, but no.”

“Would she have told you?”

“Of course she would have. Rachael is smart. If she’d even had a hint that this was going on, there’s no way she would’ve stayed. The morning she was arrested, we were having a fight about me letting my kids down. She was ready to leave me over that. There’s no way she would’ve stayed if she’d known about Blaire. My wife is a strong person. She is a good person. She’s the best person I know.” He looked at Rachael. “That’s how I know she couldn’t have done this. She’s amazing. She never pays our bills even a day late, she donates to homeless shelters and food pantries, she never forgets a birthday or an anniversary, and she’s always there for me. She is a good person. A good person did not kill Blaire. My wife did not kill Blaire.”

Rachael smiled at him, briefly, but he’d seen it.

“Mr. Abbott.” Avery stepped up to block his view of his wife. “I know you don’t want to believe your wife is capable of this, but the fact is that someone killed Blaire Underwood. Whoever that someone is, they had access to the office keys, just like you; they had a reason to want Miss Underwood out of the way, just like you; and they were at the office that night with her alone, just like you. It seems to me that someone knew you were with Miss Underwood alone that night, they knew you’d be the last to see her and they’d made sure all of your coworkers were there to attest to that. They also knew your specimen would be inside of the victim. They knew you’d been fighting with Miss Underwood. They knew once news of the affair was released, you’d have a motive. Adding all of this up, it almost seems like someone was trying to frame you for murder, Mr. Abbott. Someone who was angry at you, angry enough to kill and let you go down for it.”

Caide swallowed hard, watching Rachael out of the corner of his eye. He looked to the jury who looked as shocked as he felt.

“So, you tell me is there anyone in your life that would have more reason than your wife to want Miss Underwood out of the picture?”

Caide was silent. He’d made a horrible mistake taking the stand, it was written all over Hampton’s dismayed face.

“Mr. Abbott?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Hampton, her heels clicking as she strutted across the room. “He’s all yours.”

Hampton stood up, making no effort to hide his frustration with Caide.

“Mr. Abbott, on the night of Blaire’s murder did you see your wife’s car at the law office?”

“No.”

“Did you notice it parked close?”

“No.”

“Was it at home when you arrived?”

“Yes. It was parked in the garage.”

“Your wife was also at home?”

“Yes, asleep in my daughter’s room.”
As I said earlier.

“Is your daughter a light sleeper?”

“She’s seven. Of course she is.”

“Was your wife dressed for bed when you arrived home?”

“I don’t remember. I’m sure she was.”

“Wouldn’t it have struck you as odd if she’d been dressed in ordinary clothes while in bed?”

“Of course.”

“So you believe you would’ve noticed that?” Hampton stared at the jury, the judge, and the audience. His eyes didn’t land on Caide once.

“Yes.”

“Okay. So, according to the prosecution’s theory…one of two things happened: One, your wife either walked, hid her car very well, or took a cab and was somehow at the office hiding, watching you with your girlfriend. She then waited until you left, murdered Miss Underwood, left your office, either drove, rode, or walked home, changed into her pajamas, and climbed into bed with your daughter without waking her just in time for you to arrive home and find her even though you were both traveling the same distance and you had an obvious head start on her. The other scenario still involves your wife mysteriously arriving to your office in time to watch you without anyone seeing her, she then would’ve had to beat you home, change into her pajamas, wait until you fell asleep, hope that Miss Underwood was still at the office, drive back, commit the murder, then sneak back home in time to cook you breakfast. All the while, never waking you or your daughter up, never being seen by anyone, and since you mentioned her car being in the garage, somehow moving it in and out without alerting anyone she was leaving. Tell me, Mr. Abbott, short of your wife literally being able to time travel, do either of those scenarios seem plausible to you?”

“No. They seem crazy.”

Finally, Hampton looked his way, a smirk on his face. “How long have you known your wife?”

“Nine years. We just celebrated our eighth anniversary.”

“Are you a good husband?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“One that our jury needs answered.”

“I love my wife.”

“That’s not the question.”

“Look, I work a lot. Rachael hates it. The job that I work requires longer hours than I’d like but I love my job. I haven’t been fair to my wife, no, but I’ve never physically hurt her. I make sure we have the money to pay our bills and keep our family healthy. I’m a provider. I’ve always been. I’m not a romantic husband. I wasn’t raised to be loving or nurturing. I’m not a present husband. Apparently, I’m not a faithful husband, so I guess you’d probably say no, I’m not a good husband. I do love my wife, though, and I’ve tried my best.”