Lying With Strangers (26 page)

KEVIN FELT THE WEIGHT OF THE PROSECUTOR’S STARE AS OHN ROSE
to make his announcement.

“The state calls Sandra Blair,” he said.

Kevin’s heart sank. He’d been on edge since leaving her outside the Christian Science complex, where she’d offered to be his alibi witness. He’d never even considered getting back to her, but it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps that wasn’t the end of the matter. Maybe she had her own agenda. Maybe she had even been wearing a wire.

Did she set me up?

Heads turned as she walked down the center aisle of the courtroom. The prosecutor met her at the swinging gate and directed her to the witness stand. She was dressed in a dark business suit, simple jewelry, nothing sexy. Kevin crossed his fingers. Mercifully, she hadn’t dressed the part of the femme fatale. He could only hope that she’d limit her self-description to that of “coworker.”

Sandra’s offer to be his alibi had thrown Kevin. Before going to see her that night, Kevin had resolved to tell Peyton about Sandra. But by the time he’d returned home, he had completely changed his mind. He’d actually convinced himself that she probably wouldn’t testify at trial, particularly since he had no intention of taking her up on her alibi offer. If Sandra wasn’t going to be a witness at trial, Kevin’s reasoning had gone, telling Peyton about
her at this juncture would only put more needless strain on their marriage and their joint defense. Kevin would tell his wife everything in due time, after the trial. Clearly that kind of cowardly thinking had bordered on delusional.

Peyton glanced his way as Sandra swore the oath. Kevin could appreciate his wife’s confusion, as Sandra hadn’t testified before the grand jury. He should have told Peyton about her last night, last week, last month, last winter. Now, here she was in the flesh, with no grand jury transcript to tip off the defense as to her possible testimony. Just about anything could pop out of her mouth. “Anything,” however, wasn’t what he was worried about.

Just please don’t let it be
everything.

“Ms. Blair, where do you work?” asked Ohn.

She leaned toward the microphone and told him.

“Did you know Kevin Stokes when he worked at Marston and Wheeler?”

For the first time since entering the courtroom, she made eye contact with Kevin. “Yeah. We know each other.”

“Know him well?”

Kevin was starting to sweat. She glanced his way, then back at the prosecutor. “Fairly well, yes.”

Ohn stopped. Or at least it seemed as if he’d stopped, as Kevin braced himself for the next question.

“How about his wife? Do you know her?”

Kevin could breathe again. Miraculously, he was moving on.

Sandra said, “I wouldn’t say I know her. I’ve seen her before.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Stokes?”

The tightness was back in Kevin’s chest. Again, he wondered:
Did she set me up?

Sandra said, “I believe the last time I saw Kevin was at a dedication and fund-raising event at Harvard University. He was with his wife.”

Kevin was only partially relieved. No mention of the night at the Christian Science complex. But the fund-raiser had its own pitfalls.

The prosecutor asked, “When was that event?”

“Last summer.”

“In relation to the day Gary Varne’s body was found in the trunk of Dr. Shields’s car, when was it?”

“Three days before.”

“Three days,” he said, underscoring the importance for the jury. “Did you speak to Mr. Stokes?”

“Briefly.”

“Did you happen to have the opportunity to hear Mr. Stokes speaking with his wife?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How did that come about?”

“I was on my way to use a pay phone. I overheard them shouting at each other at the end of the hall.”

“Were they alone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you make your presence known?”

“No. I was actually quite embarrassed for them.”

“Come now, Ms. Blair. Let’s just be upfront about this. You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”

She blushed, and Kevin prayed that this wouldn’t lead to a discussion of why she was so interested in their marital disagreement. “I really did go to use the phone,” she said. “But yes, once I heard the shouting I did what anyone would probably do. I listened.”

“We’re not here to pass judgment. At least not on you. Can you tell us what you heard, please?”

Tony rose. “Objection. Hearsay.”

Ohn replied, “These are admissions by the defendants themselves. That’s not hearsay.”

“Overruled.”

Sandra said, “Kevin was very angry and quite loud. Apparently someone had said something to upset him.”

“Just tell us what he said, please.”

“He accused Peyton of having spent the night at Gary Varne’s apartment while he was away on business.”

“What was Peyton’s response?”

“I believe she said, ‘Kevin, do we have to talk about this here?’”

“She didn’t deny it?”

“Not that I heard.”

Kevin started as Peyton grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. He knew it had been purely instinctual, knew that she wanted to jump up and shout to the courtroom, the world. Regardless of whether he’d believed her, he recalled that Peyton had denied any intimacy with Gary at least twice.

“Then what happened?”

“Just a lot of sniping back and forth. At this point my sense of curiosity was giving way to my sense of…well, it was just getting ugly. He was screaming at her for getting drunk and sleeping at Gary Varne’s apartment, that sort of thing.”

“Then what?”

“He stormed away. Flew right past me in the hallway.”

“Did you get a look at him?”

“Yes.”

“How did he look?”

She looked at Kevin, then at the prosecutor. “I don’t really remember.”

The prosecutor’s expression fell, as if his witness had suddenly turned against him. “You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Ohn went to his assistant, who handed up Sandra’s signed statement. “Perhaps this will refresh your recollection. Do you recall giving a statement to me in my office about a month ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you recall my asking you how Mr. Stokes looked as he left the event you just described?”

“Yes, I recall that.”

“Do you recall giving the following response: ‘Kevin looked like he could kill someone.’”

“Objection,” shouted Tony.

“Move to strike,” said Jennifer.

“Overruled and denied.”

Again, Sandra glanced at Kevin. Then she lowered her eyes, as if embarrassed for having spoken out of anger, particularly to a prosecutor. “Yes. I believe I said that.”

Ohn was clearly enjoying it, though careful not to gloat too much in front of the jury. “I may have already asked, but just so we’re clear, this happened how many days before Gary Varne’s body was found in the trunk of Dr. Shields’s car?”

“Three days,” she said.

“Thank you. No further questions,” he said, returning to his seat.

Peyton finally released Kevin’s hand. She was whispering something to Tony, presumably her repeated denials of the affair. Kevin sat in silence, watching Sandra. He didn’t see contempt, didn’t see resentment. With her eyes, she seemed to be saying that she had just called it as she’d seen it. Then, slowly, in a gesture that only seemed casual, she pushed her long hair back behind her ear. Kevin tightened his focus and saw the message.

She was wearing the earrings she’d worn the night they’d slept together.

It was as if she’d reached across the courtroom and hit him between the eyes. Without words, she was telling him something. At first blush it seemed like a threat:
I have the power to bury you
. But as their eyes met once more, he sensed no ill will. To the contrary, maybe in her own peculiar way, she was hinting at reconciliation. It might have been a tacit renewal of the offer she’d made that night outside the Christian Science complex.

I could be your alibi.

“Ms. Dunwoody, your witness,” said the judge.

It was Jennifer’s turn for the defense. She started to rise, but Kevin stopped her. He cupped his hand to her ear and whispered, “No cross-examination.”

“What?”

“Don’t go there.”

The judge said, “Ms. Dunwoody, if you please.”

She remained locked in debate with Kevin, whispering. “We have to cross-examine. She killed us.”

“It can get a lot worse. Just let it go.”

Her look was incredulous, but with a touch of concern. “Let’s talk about this.”

The judge said, “Does the defense have any questions for this witness or not?”

Jennifer rose to address the court. “Your Honor, I’d like to have a brief recess to speak with my client.”

“Forget about it. I’m not going to stop the trial every time you want to have a chat. We’ll be here all year. Now proceed with cross-examination or the witness will be dismissed.”

Tony rose, confusion on his face. “Could I have just thirty seconds with my co-counsel?”

“Thirty seconds,” said the judge, growling.

The whole team huddled at the table, whispering so as not to be overheard, trying to show no emotion so that neither the press nor the jury would sense disagreement.

Tony whispered, “You want me to do the cross?”

“No,” said Kevin. “No one should do it.”

“That’s nuts.”

“Look, her testimony hurt me a lot more than Peyton. And I’m telling you, it can only get worse if you cross-examine.”

Peyton just looked at him, as if looking right through him. “What are you saying?” she said in a hushed but piercing voice.

The judge interrupted. “Thirty seconds are up. What’s it going to be, Counsel?”

Kevin and Peyton were locked in silence. The lawyers checked their clients, then looked at each other. Finally, Tony rose and said, “No questions at this time, Your Honor. But it is possible that one of the defendants may recall her as part of our defense.”

“Very well. The witness is excused. Ms. Blair, please do not discuss your testimony with anyone, since there is the possibility of your return to the witness stand.”

Sandra stepped down and crossed before the bench, her stride a little faster than normal. She was looking right at Peyton, Kevin noted, and as she passed their table she slowed her step. Her eyes shifted toward Kevin, and he looked away awkwardly, only to meet Peyton’s glare. He looked the other way but still felt the weight of her smoldering suspicion.

He heard the click of Sandra’s heels as she headed up the aisle, heard the heavy door open and shut in the back of the courtroom. Sandra was gone, but it was as if she were still there, sitting right between them, showing Peyton her earrings.

THE PHONE RANG ON JENNIFER’S DESK. SHE WAS ALONE IN HER
office preparing for tomorrow’s witnesses. She pushed aside her plastic takeout container of chicken Caesar and snatched up the receiver. It was Ohn.

She stiffened with surprise. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Your client passed up a good deal before trial. Testify against his wife, he gets complete immunity. I’m renewing the offer.”

“What makes you think he’d be interested now?”

“I saw the way he and Sandra Blair looked at each other in the courtroom today. More important, I saw the way his wife looked at him. My well-honed prosecutorial instincts tell me that it’s only a matter of time before Peyton tubes her husband. This is your client’s last chance to take a preemptive strike.”

“Am I to infer from this conversation that the prosecution’s theory is that Peyton Shields pulled the trigger?”

“I’ll tell you this much. If your client doesn’t take the deal, I can only assume that it’s because
he
was the triggerman. In that case, I might just turn around and offer the same deal to his codefendant.”

“You’re just a model of integrity, aren’t you?”

“The offer’s good till tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll let you know,” she said, then hung up the phone.

Peyton got home around eight-thirty. At her insistence, there had been no joint defense strategy session at the conclusion of today’s testimony. It had been just Peyton and Tony in his office, leaving Jennifer and Kevin to meet or not on their own. Kevin had tried to corner Peyton alone, but she’d avoided it. Somewhere deep inside she’d known all along that Kevin was hiding something. Ironically, had anyone but her mother planted the initial seed of doubt she probably would have confronted Kevin long ago. But that telling little exchange between Sandra Blair and him in the courtroom had finally put a face on her suspicions and fears.

Peyton entered the apartment quickly and hung her coat in the foyer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kevin seated in the living room, but she didn’t look his way. She continued down the hall to the master bedroom. She pulled a suitcase and garment bag down from the shelf in the closet and threw them on the bed. She started packing slowly, then more furiously, driven by hurt and anger.

“What are you doing?” It was Kevin, standing in the doorway.

She continued sifting through the panty-hose drawer, not even looking up. “What does it look like?”

“Why are you doing this?”

She stopped and glared. “Are you going to look me in the eye and tell me you were never with that woman?”

He shifted nervously, right foot to left foot, then back again. “Peyton, I swear it was only one night.”

She chuckled pathetically. “
Only
one night. That’s beautiful, Kevin. Why don’t we try that defense at our trial. But, Your Honor, we only shot Gary Varne in the head
once
.”

“I didn’t shoot him in the head any times.”

“Neither did I, asshole. I was only making a point.”

“I know. You have every right to be furious.”

“You’re damn right I do,” she said, her voice shaking. She ducked into the closet and grabbed a few dresses and shoes for
court, then threw them on the bed. “You bastard. How could you do this to me?”

“It was last winter. You were so busy at the hospital, it seemed like I saw you about two hours a week. Things weren’t very good between us, remember? You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant.”

“So it’s my fault, is that it? You wouldn’t have cheated if I’d told you I was pregnant?”

“No. That’s just a symptom of how bad things had gotten between us. I’m the only guilty one here, and I regretted it from the day it happened.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know what I really don’t understand? How could you make me feel so horrible over nothing but a complete misunderstanding with Gary Varne, when all the while you were hiding this secret about you and this…this
woman
.”

“Because I was afraid you loved Gary. And in my whole life, I’ve only loved one woman. You.”

She zipped her suitcase and said, “You have a lousy way of showing it.”

“I’m not proud of the way I acted. But for me, the thing with you and Gary was never about one night. I worried about your renewed friendship with him from the day you started at Children’s. I blamed him for the way you seemed to stop loving me.”

Peyton grabbed her bags and pushed past him. “Don’t put this on me.”

He followed her down the hall to the foyer. She slowed just enough to throw on her coat. He touched her shoulder as the door flew open. She stopped in the open doorway, but didn’t dare turn to look at him. Her emotions were running the gamut from hurt to betrayal, anger to disappointment. She was determined not to lose control in front of him.

His voice quaked behind her. “I wish I knew what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I wish I could undo it, just go back in time. When I was sitting in the living room waiting for you to come home tonight, I
was thinking about our second date back in college. I remember it more clearly than any night in my life. I remember what you wore, what we said. I remember dropping you off at your apartment afterward. Most of all, I remember going home and, for the first and only time in my life, literally thanking God for bringing a woman into my life.”

She closed her eyes tightly, holding back tears.

“I am sorry, Peyton.”

“Me too,” she whispered, then rushed down the porch steps, no looking back.