Chapter 18

As Carmichael approached the witness stand, Alissa Grayson squirmed nervously in the hard wooden chair and tried to keep her eyes from straying to the left where twelve faces were turned toward her, or to the defense table where her mother sat watching apprehensively.

Hoping to make the experience as quick and painless as possible, Carmichael wasted no time with preliminaries.

"Alissa, I want you to tell us what happened the Sunday evening before your father was killed."

Even with the microphone, her halting voice was barely audible. "After we had dinner, my dad made each of us tell him what we had learned in church that day. I helped my brother with some reading, then we went to bed."

When she didn't immediately continue Carmichael prompted, "What happened before you went to sleep?"

She twisted her fingers tightly together in her lap. "My sister was already asleep when my mother came into the room we shared. She said I should get up and pack as much of our stuff as I could into some boxes she had with her, and that I should put everything we needed for school in one box so we could find it easily. I woke my sister up so she could help me, and we packed everything in our room."

"What did you do next?"

"My mother asked me to help my brother and sister carry some of the boxes out to our car, so I did. Then she told us to get into the car and we left."

"Where was your father?"

"He was asleep in my parent's bedroom."

"He didn't wake up while you were packing?"

"No. My mother said he had taken a sleeping pill because he was going to start a big project at work the next day and needed to get some rest. Whenever he took a sleeping pill it was really hard to wake him."

"And you're sure he was alive when you left?"

"Yes. As we were walking out, I passed their bedroom and I saw him move."

"Where did your mother say you were going?"

"She said she was taking us to her friend Sandy's house."

"Did she say anything about your father coming along?"

The girl glanced at her mother. "Not really. She told us that he was going to go on a trip with his work and we were going to stay with Sandy while he was gone."

"What happened once you reached Sandy Hamilton's home?"

"We unloaded what we had brought with us and Sandy showed us where we could put everything."

"Was she surprised to see you?"

"No. She had one room ready for my sister and me, and another one for my brother."

"How did she know you were coming?"

"My mother said she had called her before we left."

"Did you see or hear her do so?"

"No."

"What did your mother do when you arrived?"

"She helped us unpack a few things and get settled into bed. Then she left."

"Did she say where she was going, or what she was going to do?"

Alissa smoothed back her hair with a shaky hand. "She told me she was going back to our house to get the rest of our things and that she would return later."

"Do you know how long she was gone?"

"No. I fell asleep before she came back."

"What did you do the next day?"

"My mother took my brother and sister and me to lunch, then to enroll in our new schools."

"And did your mother say anything about your father that day?"

The girl shook her head. "No."

"What about the following days, before she was arrested?"

"She didn't say anything about him at all."

"Thank you, Alissa. I have no further questions," Carmichael told her with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Standing up, Morgan slowly walked toward the witness stand. "Alissa, was your mother nervous or upset the Sunday night your father died?"

Carmichael stood up. "Objection. Counsel is asking the witness to testify as to the defendant's state of mind. Given that she isn't a mental health professional, or a mind reader, she isn't qualified to answer the question."

Morgan turned toward the judge's bench. "Your Honor, I'm not asking the witness about Mrs. Grayson's state of mind. I'm only asking her to tell us what she observed in regards to the demeanor of her mother, with whom she has lived all of her life. Surely that qualifies her to answer the question."

"Overruled," Judge Yee nodded. "The witness may answer the question."

As Carmichael resumed her seat, the girl focused once more on Morgan. "Mostly, my mother seemed sad. I woke up later that night and I heard her crying."

"And the next day? How did she seem then?"

Looking at her mother, tears began to fill her eyes and her voice grew unsteady. "She was still sad. She spent the whole day with us and kept saying how much she loved us and wanted us to be good while we were at Sandy's. And she told us she didn't want us to worry about anything. I didn't really understand what she meant at the time." She looked at Morgan pleadingly through the tears. "What she did to my father wasn't her fault."

From her angle of view, Carmichael could only partially see Morgan's face as she stood to the side of the jury. But the partial view was all she needed to recognize her indecisiveness.

After a brief pause, Morgan said quietly, "I don't have any other questions for this witness."

Alissa Grayson looked at Morgan in surprise, then relief flooded her face at Judge Yee's dismissal. She stood up quickly, bumping the microphone in her haste to leave the stand.

Carmichael breathed a sigh of relief.

"You may call your next witness, Ms. Carmichael," Judge Yee suggested.

"The People rest, Your Honor."

"Then we will recess for lunch, after which the defense may begin to present their case."

***McCoy checked the clock on the back of the courtroom wall just before he hit the door. With any luck, he would be in time to hear for himself what Morgan had decided regarding the questioning of Alissa Grayson. He walked quickly, dodging people on his way down the crowded corridor.

When he reached the door to Part 36, he pushed it open carefully, then stopped short. With the exception of a single figure, the room was empty. He approached the prosecution's table and stood at a discreet distance while Penland finished a cell phone conversation.

Penland turned to look over his shoulder as he slipped his phone into his briefcase. "Hey, Jack. If you're looking for Abbie, you just missed her."

McCoy took a couple of steps toward the table as Penland packed his remaining belongings.

"What about Calea? How long ago did she leave?"

Standing up and joining McCoy he answered, "She left before Abbie did."

"Did she say anything about where she was going?"

"Are you kidding? Judging by the 'drop dead' look she sent our way, I got the feeling she wasn't too happy about the People's last witness. She took off as soon as we were dismissed."

With a sigh, McCoy started for the door.

Penland stuck beside him. "If you don't have any other plans, maybe I could buy you lunch. There's an arson case I could use some advice on."

McCoy stopped at the door and turned to him, intending to politely beg off. But noting the eager expression on the younger man's face, he forced a smile. "Looks like my plans fell through. Where do you want to go?"

***Carmichael sat in her chair, picking at a hangnail. She knew she needed to tackle the stack of files on her desk, but couldn't seem to find the motivation. All she could think about was how much she wanted to go for a long, hard run. But the thought of running alone only made her more depressed.

"I think you took the memo on conserving energy a little too seriously," McCoy commented from the doorway. "Don't you believe in using the lights anymore?"

Motioning for him to turn them on she said, "I just came in and hadn't gotten around to turning them on."

After flipping the switch, he regarded her carefully. "How did it go?"

"With whom? The prosecution, the defense, or the witness?" she asked dryly.

Taking a seat near the door he decided, "Start with the prosecution."

Carmichael shrugged. "I'd say it's a toss-up as to whether putting Alissa Grayson on helped us or not."

"And the defense?"

"Let's just say that Calea and I aren't going running together today, or tomorrow, or anytime next week for that matter. I'm thinking that sometime next month might be too soon for her to share anything more than courtroom air with me." Opening a desk drawer, she rummaged around for a nail clipper. "The witness, on the other hand, gave me what I wanted. She made it through her entire testimony without saying anything that hurt us. And I was right about Calea; she didn't ask Alissa anything about her home life, even though the girl more than opened the door for it with the last statement she made. Alissa was visibly relieved when Calea passed on the opportunity. After we recessed, I spoke with the court officer and asked permission for her to have lunch with her mother. They both seemed to appreciate the time together."

His eyebrows arched. "That was thoughtful of you. Any particular reason for the sudden attack of charity?"

Shaking her head at the wise-crack she retorted, "Contrary to popular opinion, it isn't the first nice thing I've ever done in my life."

He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. "You have nothing to feel guilty about, Abbie. You did what you felt you had to."

"Right," she agreed unconvincingly.

"Sometimes, to do our jobs as the good guys, we have to look like the bad guys," he pointed out. "Calea knows that. She'll get over all of this. You're too good of friends for her not to. Just give her some time."

Carmichael closed her desk drawer with a little more force than she had intended and it banged loudly, punctuating her frustration. "It isn't only about the two of us! I shouldn't have put Alissa on the stand! You should've seen her Jack; she was petrified. Calea was right. No child should have to go through something like that."

"Hind-sight is twenty-twenty. Stop beating yourself up about something that's over and done with. Chalk it up to experience and go on," McCoy advised. "After I finish going over some points for tomorrow with Serena, why don't you let me buy you a drink? A change of scenery would do you good."

"Thanks, but I'll pass."

"What? You get to cheer me up when I'm down in the dumps, but I'm not allowed to return the favor?" he demanded teasingly.

"I'd be lousy company. You've got enough with your case; you don't need me crying on your shoulder."

McCoy grinned and shook his head. "You need a break from Calea. You've been hanging around her too long. You're even starting to sound like her."

Failing to grasp his humor, she asked sharply, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He only smiled more broadly as he stood up and checked his watch. "Nothing. I'm coming back in an hour. Be ready to go."

Not waiting for an argument, he headed for the door, turning off the lights as he left her office.

Carmichael sat in the semi-darkness for another minute before a slow smile came to her. Shaking her head, she got up, turned the lights back on, then sat down and reached for a file.

***Lewin appeared at the opposite door of McCoy's office as Southerlyn gathered her notes and left through the other for her cubicle across the hallway.

"How did court go?"

"Fine," he answered as she sat down on the sofa. "I should wrap up our side by the middle of next week."

"That's good to hear. Have you talked with Abbie today?"

"I spoke with her a little while ago. Why?"

"She seems upset, and I don't think it's all about the case, per se. I couldn't get her to talk about it, but I got the feeling it's something personal. When she told me she wanted the Grayson case, she assured me that she could keep her friendship with this other attorney separate, but I'm not sure she's managing that very well."

"Going up against a friend makes this case is a little different from any she's handled on her own before, and she's having some self-doubts," McCoy noted. "She'll work it out, though."

"I hope so. I don't like seeing her so down. I'm glad she seems to be able to talk with you about her problems."

"Well, I had to pry it out of her," he admitted with a smile.

Lewin returned the smile. "Tell me something about the attorney she's up against."

He shrugged. "She's good."

"It takes more than being a good attorney to become a friend."

McCoy nodded in agreement. "Calea is special."

Noting the smile in his eyes, she said, "I'd like to meet her someday."

"Next time she stops in, I'll introduce you," he promised.

"You do that." She got up and started for the door. "Keep me posted on your case and how things are with Abbie. If I can do anything to help the situation, let me know. See you in the morning, Jack."

***With the number of rings that had gone unanswered, McCoy had resigned himself to leaving a message when Morgan's breathless voice finally answered into his ear.

"Calea, it's Jack. I was about to give up on you."

"I'm sorry. I was in the shower and didn't hear the phone right away."

"I've been trying to call you all evening. Where have you been?"

"It's been a hectic day. I had a long meeting with a client after court, and then I went for a run. I only got home a little while ago."

"Burning the candle at both ends again," he noted. "I thought you were going to wait and have lunch with me today."

"I was in need of some serious alone time after Alissa took the stand. I didn't feel much like conversation."

"Abbie told me that you didn't ask Alissa any questions about her father. Weren't you happy with your decision?"

With a heavy sigh she replied, "I don't know. I'm not sure I did the right thing. I think you may have been right last night. It's possible that I put my personal feelings ahead of my client's best interest."

"You did what you thought was right," McCoy reminded her. "I wish you would've gone to lunch with me. We could've talked things out. I did offer to lend an ear, or a shoulder, remember?"

Morgan was quiet for a moment, then finally said, "You know me. I'm pretty self-sufficient. I like to work things out for myself."

"Don't remind me!" he responded, only half-joking. "I thought about you as I was eating left-over lasagna tonight. Did you finish your ravioli?"

"I haven't had the chance. I've only been home long enough to take a shower."

"This late and you haven't eaten yet? I'd better let you go, then. I wouldn't want you to faint from hunger! Maybe we can meet up for lunch tomorrow and talk more."

"I can't tomorrow. I have to deliver a contract to a client on my lunch break," she explained. "But I appreciate the offer."

"Okay. I'll try to pin you down another day this week. Sleep well, Calea."

"You too, Jack."

After he laid down the phone, he sat thinking about the two separate but similar conversations he'd had that evening. It was nice to be the ambassador of good will for a change, instead of being on one side or the other of the issue. But at least Carmichael had allowed him to buy her a drink and had then vented. Morgan had chosen to avoid him altogether, and had shared very little in their phone conversation. It seemed that no matter how many times he offered to help, or how sincerely, she was still uncomfortable with allowing him too close.

He swung his feet up and stretched out on the sofa, propping an arm behind his head and closing his eyes to block out the light. As he began to relax and drift off slightly, the words to a song a former girlfriend used to play over and over again floated around his mind. He tried to remember how it started, but could only recall the refrain: "Let me be the one you run to, let me be the one you come to, when you need someone to turn to, let me be the one…" He wished that, just once, Morgan would willingly turn to him and allow him to offer comfort, to be there for her. Just once…