Alex Cross: Cross Justice Part 23

That question had kept me up most of the night. It was still bothering me in court that next morning. So was the fact that Patty Converse had not shown up, and I think several of the jury members had noticed.

Then Naomi said, "Ms. Lawrence, did you see Rashawn Turnbull at Coach Tate's house that afternoon?"

I forgot about the night before and Stefan's fiancee, and focused. It was the first I'd heard about the victim being at the alleged rape scene. I glanced over at Cece, who was sitting beside a pretty blond woman in her late thirties. Two rows behind Cece sat her parents and a young woman I didn't recognize. But they all seemed as interested as I was.

Lawrence said, "No, I did not see Rashawn there. Why?"

"Because Coach Tate says the only person at his home after school that day was Rashawn Turnbull."

The high school senior looked doubtful. "I don't know anything about that."

"What time did you leave?"

Lawrence shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Four? Maybe five? I was still kind of groggy."

"Went out through the bas.e.m.e.nt to the alley?"

"That's right."

"Strange," Naomi said, looking at a couple of pieces of paper. "I have a sworn statement here from Sydney Fox that says she remembers Rashawn Turnbull knocking on Coach Tate's door around four that afternoon. She remembers Rashawn going inside."

Delilah Strong jumped up. "Objection, Your Honor. Sydney Fox is dead and cannot be questioned. I'd like to move that her statement be inadmissible."

"This goes to the witness's credibility, Judge," Naomi said.

Varney thought about that for a moment and then said, "Overruled."

"Your Honor!" Strong cried.

"I said overruled. Ms. Cross, can you rephrase as a question?"

Naomi nodded, said, "Are you sure you didn't see Rashawn?"

Lawrence frowned, looked around, seemed to seek someone out in the courtroom, and said, "I don't remember. I was groggy. Maybe he was there."

"Or maybe you weren't there at all," Naomi said.

"That's not true! Why would I lie about something like this?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out," Naomi said. "Your parents here today, Sharon?"

Lawrence looked into the courtroom again, said, "My mom. My father's not around anymore."

The pretty blond woman sitting with Cece Turnbull craned her head to see better.

"And who is your mom?"

"Ann Lawrence."

"What was her maiden name?"

"Objection," Strong said. "Where's the relevance?"

Naomi said, "I'm about to show relevance, Your Honor."

Varney nodded, but I noticed that he had gone pale since he entered the courtroom.

"Your mother's maiden name?"

"King," she said. "Ann King."

"She have a sister?"

Lawrence looked uncomfortable, said, "I don't see ..."

"Yes or no."

"Yes, Louise was her sister. She's dead."

"And who was Louise married to at the time of her death?"

The girl's jaw seemed to tense a bit before she said, "Marvin Bell."

That got my attention, and I sat up straighter. So did Bree.

"So Marvin Bell is your uncle?" Naomi asked.

"Yes."

"Has your uncle provided you and your mother with financial support since your father left?" Naomi asked.

"Objection!" the prosecutor cried. "What is the relevance here? Mr. Bell has no connection whatsoever to this case."

"With the court's indulgence, I'm trying to establish that connection," Naomi said.

"You're on a short leash, Counselor," Varney said, sweating now despite the fact that it was quite cool in the courtroom.

Naomi said, "Marvin Bell has been giving your family money, correct?"

She lifted her chin, said, "Yes."

"Be tough without that money, wouldn't it?"

I noticed Sharon's mother had gone very tense; she was sitting forward, holding on to the back of the bench in front of her.

"Yes," Lawrence said quietly.

"Tough enough that you'd lie about a rape if he asked you?"

"No," she said, and then she reached across herself with her left hand to scratch her shoulder, in effect shielding her heart.

"You realize you're under oath," Naomi said. "And you understand the penalty for perjury in a capital crimes case?"

"No ... I mean, yes."

"Objection, Your Honor," Strong said. "The defense is badgering the witness."

"Sustained," Varney said, patting his brow with a handkerchief.

Naomi paused, and then said, "Did Coach Tate ever come to you asking about your uncle? Marvin Bell?"

Lawrence looked confused. "If he did, I don't remember."

"Funny," Naomi said, returning to the defense table. "We talked to Lacey Dahl, a good friend of yours, correct?"

"Yes."

"Ms. Dahl will testify that she heard Coach Tate ask you about Marvin Bell a few days before you claim the rape occurred," Naomi said. "She heard it outside the women's locker room at the high school. Do you remember now?"

Lawrence fidgeted. "I don't know. Maybe."

"What did he ask about?"

"I don't remember."

"Did he ask whether your uncle was involved in the drug trade in Starksville?"

"What?" Lawrence said, offended. "No, that never-"

Before she could finish, Judge Varney let out a howl like he'd been stabbed. His contorted face turned beet red, and his entire body went rigid. Then he moaned like a wounded animal and pitched forward onto the bench.

CHAPTER 51.

"THREE DAYS?" I said later that afternoon, standing outside the track stadium at Starksville High School with Bree. We were talking to Naomi with my cell phone on speaker.

"Maybe five," my niece replied. "Judge Varney's riddled with kidney stones and pa.s.sing two. Strong says resuming trial Friday is the best we can hope for, but more likely Monday."

"It's probably a blessing," Bree said.

"Why's that?" Naomi asked.

I said, "Unless you and Stefan aren't telling us something, Bree and I have both looked at the evidence, and other than Stefan's suspicions about Marvin Bell, we don't see anything that links him to drug trafficking."

"There's circ.u.mstantial evidence," Naomi said.

"That's not good enough," Bree said. "We need to prove it."

I said, "If we can peg Bell as a drug lord threatened with exposure, suddenly his niece Sharon's story feels dubious, and we have a strong motive for his framing Stefan."

"Still leaves the DNA evidence," Bree said.

"I think I've got that covered," Naomi said. "Stefan and Patty used condoms. I've got an expert witness willing to testify that it is entirely possible that the s.e.m.e.n found on Rashawn and on those panties was stolen from the trash and then planted."

"Put both those things together and there's your reasonable doubt," I said.

"But we don't have Bell," Bree said. "And Patty Converse a no-show in court today didn't help."

"I'm on my way to her apartment," Naomi said. "She's not answering her phone."

"Let us know," I said, and I hung up.

We went into the stadium and climbed into the stands. Many of the same athletes from the other day were there, including Sharon Lawrence, who shot Bree and me a glare as she jogged past with several of her friends.

Bree said, "The other night Cece Turnbull said Rashawn was very upset about something in the days before he died."

"I remember that," I said.

"Would seeing a rape be upsetting enough?" she asked quietly.

I looked over and saw she was serious.

"It would be upsetting enough," I said.

Was Stefan's version of events all lies? Had Rashawn seen him with Lawrence? Had my cousin a.s.saulted the boy to shut him up?

Jannie was again running with the older girls. Coach Greene had them skipping in two-hundred-meter intervals. I couldn't remember Jannie ever doing that in a training session, and I noticed she was having difficulty staying with the college athletes.

When it was over, Jannie went to her bag, threw on a hoodie, and then came over to the fence with an unhappy expression.

"I suck at skipping," she said. "I don't know why I'm doing it."

"Did you ask?" I said.

Jannie shrugged, said, "It's supposed to help with your explosiveness."

"There you go," Bree said.

"I'm plenty explosive when it counts," Jannie said.

"Couldn't hurt to get more," I said, noticing that Coach Greene was crossing the track toward us, carrying Jannie's gym bag and looking serious.