Disclaimer: Magnificent Seven (TV) does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit. Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.
Story Title: Next Time
Chapter 4: The Trial of Ella Gaines Larabee
…Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is keep on living
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"Oren!"
Chris couldn't help the sense of relief he felt at the sight of the retired federal judge. Even if the irascible man shot a glare his way.
"You're late," huffed Travis.
After the events of last night, getting Miss Sutton back to her quarters, and themselves back to the hotel, Chris and Ben had both overslept this morning. Travis narrowed his eyes as they approached. He gestured to the deputies standing on either side of the courthouse doors.
"Trial is about ready to start," informed the white-haired man. "But you're gonna have to leave your pistols with them. No guns allowed in court."
Oren turned and started towards the door. The wily man looked over his shoulder with one more parting shot.
"We shoulda hung her last time," he growled.
The doors to the courtroom opened and people started trailing inside. Travis opened the satchel he carried. A deputy gave the contents a curious glance, then asked about them.
"Case files from the last time I saw the defendant," snapped Oren. "In case the prosecution needs any help."
The deputy waved the judge on in. Chris unbuckled his holster and handed it to one of the deputies. The other man started to pat Chris down. He also removed the hunting knife Chris kept in a sheath inside his boot. Chris gestured to Ben standing right behind him
"The boy is with me." For good measure, Chris added, "He's a law student from back east, wants to see how we do things here out west."
Ben opened his suitcoat to show his unadorned hips. Neither deputy bothered to check Ben further for a weapon. Once inside, Attorney Keith greeted them and led them to join Oren in the seating area for witnesses. He patted Ben on the shoulder.
"Don't worry too much about the goings on here," advised the prosecutor. "Just identify your grandmother's bag and then we'll get you out of here and back home."
The prosecutor left to go to his desk. Chris turned away, not wanting to watch the jailer bring in Ella. Just as they got seated, they heard another voice.
"All rise, all rise," called a court official down in front. "Judge Enos Fitch presiding."
Everyone got up again to watch the judge enter. The heavyset black robed man tilted a bit as he climbed up to sit behind the judge's podium. The chair creaked as he sat down. Then Fitch thumped his gavel on the wooden block before him.
"Court is now in session," declared Fitch.
The Tucson judge glared at everyone around the room, then settled his eyes on the defense lawyer. Harcourt James, wore a severe black suitcoat over a flashy brocade waistcoat. Seated he appeared to be the epitome of a successful attorney. Fitch gave a nod; James rose to stand. The illusion ended. The defense attorney's black pants were shiny with age. His boots needed polishing. Still the man tucked his thumbs into his lapels and proudly paced across the courtroom.
"Gentlemen of the jury," greeted James. "We are here today to determine the fate of a delicate flower of womanhood…"
The man paused theatrically and threw out his hand to gesture to the defendant's seat. Despite himself, Chris, along with everyone else in the courtroom, turned to look. Chris sucked in a breath. Ella sat seemingly radiant. Alluring, as beautiful as the day he had first seen her. Her glossy dark hair was piled atop her head, long tendrils trailed over the shoulder of her beaded, rose-colored dress. He shuddered, knowing her as he did. God, he had loved her once.
"My client is innocent," declared James. "There has been no murder…"
Beside him, Chris felt Ben start to rise in protest, but Chris clamped his hand on Ben's shoulder. He pushed Ben back down.
"Not now," hissed Chris in a low voice.
Harcourt James' strident voice continued.
"The woman Maude Standish deliberately followed my client out of town, provoked her, and in the resulting altercation Maude Standish slipped and fell to her death." The man turned back to face the jury panel. "Tragic, but not my client's fault. It was an accident."
There was some murmuring through the courtroom as James returned to his seat. It was a moment before the prosecutor rose to stand. Unlike James, Keith wore a somber black suitcoat over a white shirt, neatly pressed black pants and polished boots. A few steps brought him to the jury's side.
"Gentlemen of the jury," greeted Keith. "We aim to prove that the defendant attacked the elderly Mrs. Standish, a beloved mother and grandmother, and deliberately pushed her to her death."
Chris winced at the word elderly. Maude wouldn't have liked that. Hell, Nettie wouldn't like it either and the rancher had twenty years or more on Maude! Keith moved back to his desk and sat, waiting for the judge's clerk to call the first witness. The bodyguard Clovis Burton. Chris slouched back in his seat, eyelids lowered, as if not really listening. He let Burton's testimony wash over him. Chris remained unmoving until some court official called the young man seated beside him.
"Ben Standish…"
Chris nudged Ben.
"You're up."
It was a short matter for Ben to be sworn in and Maude's handbag brought out. Ben held it in his hands and opened it in a similar manner to the way he had identified it in the jail. But this time he said and did a few things differently.
"Yes, this is Grandmother's reticule."
Ben opened the bag and shook it. A lace handkerchief, an empty derringer, and a deck of cards fell to the witness stand.
"Grandmother's money, her medicine, and an ivory and lace fan with the initials M. S. engraved on the silver handle are missing," declared Ben.
The young man looked up and glanced around the room as if searching.
"I understand one of my father's letters addressed to her was also taken from this bag," challenged Ben.
Ben's gaze settled on the jailer. The man's face flushed; Oglethorpe wriggled uncomfortably on his seat behind Ella.
"I would expect the letter to be returned to my father."
Without waiting for an answer, Ben looked back at Maude's bag. The youth released a catch on the inside. The false bottom dropped free.
"And whatever was in the secret compartment is missing as well."
The defense attorney rose and made his way to the witness stand. James picked up first the derringer, then the deck of cards and held them up as if for inspection. The man chuckled unpleasantly.
"So we got a gun toting, card playing grandma…"
James laughed again and waved the objects at the jury. He rounded on Ben.
"I've heard Maude Standish was quite a poker player," snarled James. "Your grandma play cards a lot boy? She like to gamble?"
The poker face Ben had used last night when Chris caught him coming out of the jailhouse was firmly in place. Chris might have been the only one to notice Ben's lips tighten before he answered.
"Grandmother's physician had suggested shuffling cards would help with her rheumatism," answered Ben in an impassive tone. "I've never played poker with her, although I have seen her play go fish with my younger sisters."
Chris stifled his own grin. Seemed Ben had been listening when Keith told him to try not to let the defense attorney disparage his grandmother if any of her past exploits or business ventures were brought up. Ben's job was only to identify the bag. Making Maude appear more like a fond grandmother who played with her grandchildren was extra. James snorted in disbelief. The attorney set the cards down but still held the tiny pocket pistol.
"The derringer gonna help with her rheumatism too?"
"No," answered Ben. "The weapon was supposed to be for protection, a deterrent. It doesn't even have any bullets in it."
Ben turned his head slightly. He scowled at the defendant.
"Obviously, it didn't work."
Ben returned his gaze back to the attorney. James crinkled his lips up in disdain. He thumped the derringer back down and made a show of throwing his hands up in the air.
"The defense has no further questions."
Chris allowed himself a small sigh of relief. There had been no mention of Maude's many marriages, no mention of being a con artist. Not that Chris had ever heard of her being arrested. No proof she'd ever actually conned anyone. There had been a time when he checked new wanted posters for any mention of either Ezra, his Ma or Vin Tanner. Sometimes even checked for his own name. Reckoned JD still checked 'em. James stalked back to the defendant's table. Keith stood up. He walked over to stand before Ben.
"Thank you for identifying the bag, confirming the victim is your grandmother, Maude Standish," began the prosecutor. He lowered his gaze to look directly at Ben. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Keith stepped back and directed his next words to the judge.
"Prosecution has no further questions."
Keith moved back to his desk and sat down without any further ado, but Chris's gaze was on Ben. The nineteen-year-old's eyes glistened as if he was trying to hold back tears. Damn. Chris thought back on what he'd said to Ezra when he'd heard the news. Realized he hadn't said much of anything to anyone, including Ben. Hadn't actually offered condolences. Judge Fitch directed his next words to Ben.
"As the court has no further questions, you are free to go."
Fitch picked up his gavel and banged it down hard.
"Ten-minute recess."
The judge's black robes swished as he rose abruptly and turned to leave. Ben moved slower. He got up and walked to where Chris sat next to Oren.
"I guess I'm done," said Ben.
Attorney Keith came up behind Ben and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You are," nodded Keith. "Your grandmother's things will be sent to your father when the trial is over, but you can go home now if you wish."
The prosecutor turned to Chris. Keith had explained yesterday that it would be best to answer the defense attorney's questions, allowing the prosecutor a chance for rebuttal. That was the only reason Chris had agreed to testify. It still curdled his stomach to think he was answering to the defense, Ella's defense.
"You're up next. Don't go far."
Chris walked Ben to the exit. The youth looked drained. Fresh air came in through the open door. Beams of sunlight danced across the floor. After the stuffy courtroom, the bright day outside looked incredibly inviting.
"You know I never thought Maude would carry an unloaded weapon," mused Chris.
"She didn't," sighed Ben.
The young man glanced around to ensure they were not overheard.
"I removed the rounds last night," explained Ben. "I didn't want that inept jailer to drop grandmother's derringer and have the weapon go off."
Chris's lips curled up in a wry smile at the sound of disgust in Ben's voice. He could just see Oglethorpe doing something like that. Chris leaned in closer to Ben.
"Why don't you go back to the hotel," suggested Chris. "Get some rest before the stage…"
"I'm not leaving without you," interrupted Ben.
From inside, the court clerk start calling folks back.
"Go get some rest then," urged Chris again.
The hazel-eyed man glanced around. The deputies were stationed on either side of the courtroom door. Chris leaned in closer. He'd been wanting to ask this question for quite some time.
"You got a gun on you?" asked Chris.
Ben's dark eyes snapped wide open.
"Of course not!" he huffed.
"Thought maybe…," began Chris.
"Father said if anything or anybody needed shooting, you would handle it," hissed Ben.
Chris almost laughed out loud at that. Ben glared at the courtroom door.
"I'm to watch your back, and try to make sure you don't need to shoot anybody," continued Ben. "Especially not that heinous woman!"
Chris smirked at the youth's ferocity.
"Ezra told you all that?" asked Chris.
"Yes, and my lady Mother said to tell you don't do anything foolish," warned Ben. "We need you back in Four Corners, not locked up in a Tucson jail!"
Chris pointed back to the courtroom
"Guess I better get my testimony over with, then we can both go home."
Chris watched Ben walk away before he turned back to the courtroom. Would the youth go back to the Grand Hotel? Or go see Miss Sutton again? Chris kinda hoped not. Last night, when they brought Miss Sutton to her sister's, Chris had recognized her sister, a woman grown, now. Realized why he'd thought Lucinda looked familiar. Returning to the trial, Chris was called up, sworn in and seated. He still had no idea what the unctuous defense attorney was going to ask him.
"Mr. Larabee," greeted Harcourt James. His voice lowered, and he continued in a solicitous tone. "I'm sure you are quite concerned to see your wife…"
"She's not my wife," interrupted Chris.
Chris's lips curled up in a snarl. If anything, the smarmy varmint in front of him smiled more.
"She said you might say that."
The defense attorney turned towards the jury and flashed a smirk. He gestured towards Ella.
"My client loves her husband, despite his drinking…, his infidelities…, his threats to kill her…," declared James.
The jury looked suitably shocked. The defense attorney left Chris and walked back to his table. A stack of papers lay in front of his empty seat. Beside the chair, Ella looked beautiful. And if she silently mouthed I love you towards Chris he didn't acknowledge it. James picked up a paper and brought it back with him as he approached the witness stand again.
"She married him for better or worse, in sickness…" continued the defense attorney.
James pivoted around to face the jury. His twisted oration continued.
"And no doubt about it, her husband, Chris Larabee, is ill. Crazy some might say..."
Chris's eyes widened at the unexpected turn of events. He remembered Ella saying once that she thought he'd been the crazy one. Crazy to leave her, crazy to deny what they had together. Never had Chris thought Ella or her attorney would use him as part of her defense.
"Despite denying their marriage and threatening to kill Ella Gaines Larabee more than once," continued James. "He settled for railroading her into an asylum. She was unjustly held for ten years before her release. Ten years!"
"I'm not the crazy one," growled Chris. "She is!"
James spun around to face Chris; a gloating smile spread across his features.
"She said you might say that," repeated James.
He turned back to the jury. James waved that paper again as if it were important.
"My client, a frightened, defenseless woman, feared for her life, hired a bodyguard because she thought her husband might try to kill her again," declared James. "And when she was approached by Maude Standish, a woman known to work for Chris Larabee…"
"Maude Standish was never employed by me," protested Chris.
Chris figured he didn't need to mention that play acting Maude and Ezra did years ago when Billy had been kidnapped. He knew Maude had done that more for Ezra and the missing child than for anything Chris might have said. Harcourt James continued speaking as if Chris hadn't spoken. His words fast, pressing his point as if he was a carny barker selling tickets to a show.
"Mrs. Larabee defended herself…"
"And I ain't her husband!" snapped Chris. "She's not Mrs. Larabee! Never has been! Never will be!"
Harcourt James definitely heard that. He spun back to face Chris with an unholy gleam in his eyes. The defense attorney slapped the paper down in front of Chris.
"This paper says differently!"
Chris read the document. It was a Certificate of Marriage from a Tennessee courthouse from some town he'd never heard of, signed by some judge he'd never heard of either. The date on it was from many years ago. Ella, or her lawyer, probably thought he wouldn't remember what he was doing on that day. Couldn't prove he hadn't married Ella. But Chris remembered that day all right. Would never forget it.
"It's a fake," shrugged Chris.
The slim man leaned back in the witness chair, relaxed, confident.
"You would say that," sneered James. "Wouldn't you."
"Would," agreed Chris with a nod. "Can prove it too."
He could tell the defense attorney wasn't expecting him to say that last bit. Had Ella faked the marriage certificate? Or this slimy fella? Chris smiled, that dangerous smile that he often used to unnerve opponents thinking on a shootout.
"As a matter of public record, I was in a jail cell in Texas that day," continued Chris. "I'm sure it can be corroborated."
There were many days Chris wasn't ever going to forget. Memories, good and bad. That day, was one of the good memories. Even if he had spent most it puking into a bucket. Didn't reckon he needed to tell these folks all that.
"I was arrested by a deputy Wilmington the previous night, kept locked up in a Texas jailhouse the entire day." Chris smiled. "Nowhere near Tennessee."
James pursed his lips in a sour expression. The members of the jury murmured.
"We'll have to send a telegram, to confirm…"
Chris wasn't sure who spoke, the judge or the prosecutor? He stared at the defense attorney.
"She's the crazy one," added Chris. "She's killed before…"
Chris smirked at the defense attorney's reaction. Buck would have said James pounced on that like a starving coyote on the last jackrabbit in the desert. God, he wished Buck was here now.
"OBJECTION!" interrupted James. "That's hearsay! You can't use that in this trial…"
"And if you don't find her guilty…"
Harcourt James actually jumped up and down as Chris continued speaking. The attorney pointed an accusing finger at the former lawman.
"He's threatening my client!" James shouted. "You heard him! He's crazy."
Then Ella stood up. Chris hadn't realized she wore handcuffs beneath the fashionable shawl draped around her forearms. The cuffs were hooked to the defense table with a chain. Didn't reckon the jury had realized it either. Was sure James had hoped his delicate flower of womanhood would sit still, look pretty, and keep quiet. Of course, Ella was never one for sitting still or being quiet. She stepped forward. Her hands reached out like claws, her eyes wild, her high-pitched voice keening.
"Chris! You're mine! You can't deny it! I'll destroy anyone that tries to keep us apart…"
In the resulting hubbub, Judge Fitch called recess again. He ordered the jailer to take the prisoner back to her cell. Fitch called both attorneys up to his bench for a talk. Or maybe it was more of a scolding. Chris couldn't hear what was said, because he had been removed from the witness stand and now sat beside Oren. The Tucson judge sent the attorneys back to their seats before he turned to face the jury. He bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile.
"Your job is to determine if the accused deliberately pushed Maude Standish to her death or if it was an accident," Fitch reminded them.
Fitch scowled at Harcourt James.
"The only testimony from Chris Larabee pertaining to this case is the question about whether or not the victim, Maude Standish, was ever employed by the witness," growled the authoritative man. "It don't matter if the accused or the witness is crazy or not, married to each other or not. None of that testimony has anything to do with this case."
Fitch banged his gavel. He ordered all Chris's testimony except 'Maude Standish was never employed by me' to be stricken from the record. Chris leaned over to Oren.
"Does Fitch really think the jurors are gonna forget that stunt?"
"Not likely," muttered Oren. "They just can't use it in their determination."
Fitch banged his gavel again.
"Court is recessed until tomorrow morning!"
With that the Tucson judge looked to Chris.
"You're excused," growled Fitch. "No need for further testimony."
Oren walked with Chris outside. The white-haired man shook his head.
"I've seen defense attorneys try to blame the victim, but this is ridiculous," grumbled Travis.
Oren's steely eyes looked up at Chris.
"Are you going to stay in Tucson to watch the rest of the trial?"
And Chris was tempted. He still grieved for Sarah and Adam, gone now nearly fifteen years. There was a part of him that wanted to see Ella pay for what she'd done to Sarah and Adam, to Maude, and countless others too. But more than that, Chris wanted to go home. He wanted to see Maria, laughing, smiling Maria with her earthy sense of humor. Chris wanted to see their children, Alex, Stevie, Adriana and baby Inez. Sarah would want that, want him to live. Loving again was the best way to keep Sarah's memory. Thinking on his worries last night of Ben and vengeance, Chris shook his head.
"No, I'm going home," answered Chris. "That woman has taken too much from me already, I'll not give her another minute more."
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