Salem Falls Part 46

"I haven't got a clue."

"Objection," Matt said. "The witness obviously can't answer this line of questioning."

"Your Honor, if you'd just give me a moment-"

"So this time you can measure your way to Kentucky?" Matt said under his breath.

Jordan scowled. "This goes toward my argument, Your Honor."

"I'm giving you one more question, Mr. McAfee," the judge warned.

"Isn't it true, Ms. Abrams, that you and your friends had gone to the clearing that night to celebrate Beltane, just as witches all over the world were doing at that time?"

At the prosecutor's table, Matt Houlihan was choking on something. Or maybe just trying to keep from laughing out loud. "Objection!"

But before the judge could respond, Chelsea did. Her cheeks were bright with anger, and her expression was one only a teenager could manage, putting Jordan in a mental place she reserved for slugs and sewer refuse. "I don't know what what you're talking about, or what all this Bel- you're talking about, or what all this Bel-whatever stuff is. My friends and I went to chill. Period." stuff is. My friends and I went to chill. Period."

"Mr. McAfee," the judge said, "you will move on. Now." Now."

The jury was looking at Jordan with nearly the same scorn as Chelsea. Okay, so maybe he'd pushed a little hard ... and what he was driving at was, admittedly, nuts. He'd dismiss the witness. With luck, it would all work out in the end and Thomas would still be speaking to him.

Thomas.

Jordan silently winged an apology to his son. "Ms. Abrams, do you wear jewelry?"

Again, that look. G.o.d, was it something they were teaching in public schools these days? "No," she said.

"No earrings?"

"Sometimes, I guess."

"No bracelet or necklace or ring?"

"No."

"Isn't it true that you're actually wearing a necklace right now?"

"Yes," she said tightly.

"And isn't it true that you never take that necklace off your body?"

"Well, I-"

"Could you show it to us?"

Chelsea looked to the prosecutor for permission. Then she slowly tugged a long chain from the neckline of her blouse, to reveal the five-pointed star.

"What is that symbol, Ms. Abrams?"

"I don't know. I just think it's pretty."

"Are you aware that a five-pointed star is called a pentagram?"

"No."

"And that the pentagram is a symbol of pagan religions ... the same groups that would have been celebrating Beltane the night of April thirtieth?"

Chelsea slipped the necklace beneath her collar again. "It's just a necklace."

"Of course ... and you and your friends were just chilling chilling that night." that night."

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn," Jordan said. "Nothing further."

Later that day Carroll County Courthouse Oh, G.o.d, it hurt to see him here.

The moment Addie had been escorted into the courtroom as a witness, her eyes had zeroed in on Jack. Her heart hurt so badly she had to slide her hand inside her jacket, just to press down against the ache. When he smiled at her and nodded, as if to say she could get through this, Addie thought she was going to burst into tears.

Please, G.o.d, she prayed, as she was sworn in. Just a small earthquake. A fire. Anything that will just stop this whole nightmare, right now, before I have to become a contributing party Just a small earthquake. A fire. Anything that will just stop this whole nightmare, right now, before I have to become a contributing party.

At that moment, the doors of the courtroom burst open, and her father pushed his way inside. "Dad!" He was carrying a huge basket, from which came the most delicious smell. Steam rose from beneath a blue checkerboard cloth that was tucked over the contents. He hurried down the aisle toward the bench and winked at his daughter. "You knock 'em dead, honey," Roy said. "I gotta give these out while they're still hot."

Setting the basket beside the court stenographer's machine, he opened up the napkin, filling the room with the aroma of freshly baked m.u.f.fins. "Here, Your Honor. You're the head honcho, so you get the first bite."

By that time, Althea Justice had recovered her voice. "Mr ..."

"Peabody, at your service. You can call me Roy."

"Mr. Peabody," the judge said, "you cannot come barging into the middle of a trial."

"Oh, I'm not barging." Roy began to place m.u.f.fins on the defense table, in front of the prosecutor, into the outstretched hands of the jury. "Consider me the chuck wagon."

"Be that as it may ... is that peanut b.u.t.ter?" peanut b.u.t.ter?"

"Good nose, ma'am. PB & J m.u.f.fins. What makes mine different, though, is that the peanut b.u.t.ter is mixed right into the batter, instead of set in the center like the jelly. Comfort food, which I figured you all could use about now." He hefted the basket and turned to the gallery. "The rest are for you all," Roy said. "Except I wasn't counting on there being quite so many. So maybe you could all just share with your neighbor."

"Your Honor," Matt said, incensed, "this man has no right to be here. He's a sequestered witness, for G.o.d's sake."

Jordan swallowed a bite of the m.u.f.fin. "Ah, come on, Houlihan, don't get your knickers in a knot. He's just bringing us a treat."

"He's blatantly trying to influence the jury," Matt snapped. "Look "Look at them." at them."

Every juror was either in the throes of peeling back the cupcake liner at the base of the m.u.f.fin or stuffing a bite into his or her mouth. "Mr. Peabody," the judge said, her mouth full, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave until you're called by the defense."

"I understand, Your Honor."

"You didn't happen to bring any milk, did you?" she asked.

Roy grinned. "Next time. I promise."

"There will not be a next time," Matt thundered. "I want the record to reflect that I object to this ... this shenanigan McAfee's dreamed up."

"Me?" Jordan cried. "I didn't tell him to play Betty Crocker!"

"Mr. Houlihan, your objection will be so noted, after the court reporter has finished her snack," the judge said. "Now, really. This was nothing more than a lovely surprise, I'm sure. You go on and eat, and then we'll resume with your witness."

"I will not eat that m.u.f.fin," Matt vowed.

The judge raised her brows. "Well, Mr. Houlihan, it's a free country."

Roy waved off thank-yous and exited.

"Your Honor," Jordan said. "Approach?"

The attorneys walked toward the bench. "Yes, Mr. McAfee?" prompted the judge.

"If the county attorney isn't going to eat his, can I have it?"

Judge Justice shook her head. "I'm afraid that isn't for me to say."

"I hope you're enjoying this," Matt snarled to Jordan. "I hope you can sleep nights, knowing you've turned a rape trial into a farce." He stalked back to his table and provocatively set his untouched m.u.f.fin on the corner closest to the defense. "The state calls Addie Peabody," he said.

For over ten minutes, Addie had not let herself make eye contact with Jack. You can get through this, You can get through this, she told herself. she told herself. Just answer the questions Just answer the questions. "You're not here today voluntarily, are you, Ms. Peabody?" Houlihan asked.

"No," she admitted.

"You're still involved in a relations.h.i.+p with Jack St. Bride."

"Yes."

"Can you tell us what happened after you found him outside, unconscious?"

Addie twisted her hands in her lap. "When he came to, I got him up to the bedroom. I cleaned him up with a washcloth, and we both fell asleep."

"Did you get a good look at his face, Ms. Peabody?"

"Yes. His face had cuts all over it, and his eye was swelling shut."

"Where was he scratched?"

"Over his eye, on his forehead."

"Were there any scratches on his cheek?" the prosecutor asked.

"No."

"How long did you sleep?"

"A couple of hours."

"What woke you up?"

"I don't know. I think the fact that he wasn't sleeping beside me anymore."

"What did you do?"

"I went to go look for him ... and heard a noise coming from my daughter's room."

"Was that unusual?"

Addie took a deep breath. "Yes," she said. "My daughter died seven years ago."

"Did you go in?"

Addie began to pull at a thread on the hem of her skirt. She thought of how life could happen that way-one slipped st.i.tch, and suddenly the most solid binding could fall apart. "He was boxing up her things," she said softly. "Stripping the bed."

The county attorney nodded sympathetically. "Did you argue?"

"Yes, for a few minutes."

"Did the fight become physical?"

"No."

"How did it end?"

She'd been sworn in and had known it would come to this moment-the point where her words might as well have been arrows, aimed right at Jack's heart. "I told him I wanted him to leave."

"Did he?"

"Yes."

And if she hadn't forced him out, he wouldn't have been in the woods that night. He wouldn't have been anywhere near Gillian Duncan. It was what she'd wondered a thousand times ... how could the blame have come to rest heavily on Jack, when she herself was so clearly at fault?

"What time was it when Mr. St. Bride left?"

"About nine forty-five."

"When did you next see the defendant?"

"About one-thirty in the morning," Addie whispered. "At the diner."

"Can you describe his physical appearance?"