|
Chapter Twenty-One
After a thirty-minute recess, the prosecution rested, and Erik walked up to the front with a confident easy stride to call his first witness. "Miss Lacy Goodbody." He smiled at the woman who sashayed toward the bench, her hips swaying provocatively. Dressed in lavender brocaded satin, a tiny fake patch at the corner of her mouth, it was obvious what Lacy's profession was without any questions being asked. As my eyes moved from her "walnut brown" hair and green eyes to a full, generous mouth down to an impressive bosom, I found myself wondering how often she shared Hank's bed. I blushed at my own thoughts, and noticing my discomfort, Zach reached over and took my hand into his. "Miss Goodbody, you work at the Gold Nugget--is that true?" "I sure do." "Does real good work!" Someone called from the rear wall. "Hank, ya oughta give that girl a raise!" Again waiting until the laughter died down, Erik resumed questioning Lacy. "Can you tell the Court when you saw Mr. Lawson on the 15th of February?" "He come in about 2:00 in the afternoon--got all cleaned up. Took hisself a bath and washed his hair--then left again, maybe an hour or so later." "Do you remember what he was wearing when he left?" "His blue shirt with a little white and gray stripe in it and black pants." "How is it that you remember so clearly?" "Hank looks awful handsome in blue. He oughta wear it more often." She gave him a pert wink. "And when did you see Mr. Lawson next?" "He got in just after 3:00 in the morning. I guess that makes it the next day, don't it?" Lacy looked up at Erik through her darkened eyelashes, flirting with the attractive lawyer. "Did he say where he had been?" "Hank don't answer to me--so I didn't bother askin'." "What was he wearing?" "I just told you." She looked puzzled. "That blue shirt with the stripes and black pants." "Exactly the same clothing that he was wearing when he left?" "That's right." "Did you get a good look at his shirt and pants when he returned?" "I was talking to him--as close as you and me. Only way I coulda got a better look was if I'd been lucky enuff to've been the one takin' 'em off!" Lacy laughed, and the crowd laughed along with her. "Was there anything on those clothes? Any spots? Anything that might have been blood?" Erik couldn't suppress his own grin at the girl's banter. "He was as clean as clean could be." "Miss Goodbody, do you recognize this shirt?" Erik opened a piece of brown parcel paper that he had laid on the table and held up a pale blue shirt. "That's Hank's shirt. The one he was wearin'." "You're absolutely sure about that?" "He has his shirts special-made in Denver. Ain't nobody else around here has any like 'em." "I would ask you to take a good look at this shirt. Examine it carefully for me." Obediently, Lacy held the garment up and studied both sides. "What is it I'm lookin' for?" "Do you see any blood spots?" "I don't see no kind of spots." "Can you tell if the shirt has been washed since it was last worn?" "Couldn't have been." She dimpled. "I smell Hank's soap. When he gets all fancied up for some reason, he uses sandalwood soap. It makes his skin and hair smell real good." "Thank you. No further questions." "Miss Goodbody, you work as a whore, am I correct?" Leslie hooked his thumbs in his braces--his waistcoat left behind somewhere during the break. "Ain't a word I 'specially like, but I reckon it fits me." "Might I ask if 'Goodbody' is your real name?" he requested acidly. "It's my professional name." She smiled, then giggled. "Some of the menfolks around here would say that it fits me, too." "Amen!" A voice in the fourth row responded. "Was that you, Rev?" Someone teased. "Madam, would you be so kind as to tell the Court your legal name, please?" The attorney ignored chuckles from the audience. "I don't know from squat about legal, but if yer askin' for the handle my folks gave me, it's Smith. Lucille Smith. I always wished they'd named me 'Summer'--seein' as how I was borned in mid-July, and that's a real pretty name, ain't it? How do you think Summer Goodbody sounds, next place I work?" "Miss Goodbody--or Smith--do you do your own laundry?" He frowned at her sternly. "Sometimes I do. Sometimes one of the washwomen for the Nugget does it." "Have you ever washed a garment with a sweet-smelling soap?" "Once in awhile." She grinned. "You interviewin' me for a job?" "Washin' ain't exactly her line of work," someone from the crowd interjected. "Least not clothes!" The man next to him howled with amusement at his own sally. "Probably the only kinda bath you ever get, J.D.!" A third male quipped. "Now you just hush, Pete," Lacy ordered, tilting her head coquettishly. "All three of you boys hush. It's my turn to talk." "If I may have your attention?" Leslie gave an exaggerated sigh. "Would you tell us how you know that Mr. Lawson's shirt hasn't been washed with sandlewood soap? That the blood stains haven't been washed out?" "Why that's easy. I know from when I have my monthlies that blood just don't come out that good," she replied matter-of-factly. "And that shirt smells like Hank, not just his soap. His man smell, plus smoke." Flushing crimson as loud masculine guffaws broke out from all corners of the church, Melvin Leslie hastily excused the witness. Satin skirts swishing, Lacy left, waving her fingers and blowing a kiss at a favorite customer in the back of the room as she passed through the crowd. "Dr. Michaela Quinn." Erik stood to call his next witness as the Judge finally had to bang his gavel to silence the amused on-lookers. "Dr. Quinn, directing your attention to February 1st of this year--did you have reason to give Hank Lawson medical care?" "Yes, I did." "And what was the nature of that treatment?" "I performed emergency surgery to repair damage caused by a gunshot wound to his back." "Describe his injuries for the Jury, if you would." "A bullet entered the latissimus dorsi on the right, over the next to last rib. Fortunately, it struck--and broke--that rib, instead of passing between, or it would have been a fatal wound. As it was, the bullet partially bisected an artery, which caused extensive loss of blood. If Hank had been further away from medical care, he would almost certainly have bled to death." "How long did Mr. Lawson remain in your clinic following surgery?" "For 12 days. That was as long as I could convince him to stay." "And how would you evaluate his physical condition after 12 days?" "He was still extremely sore and weak--quite a long way from being healthy enough to return to work. It requires time and the proper food and rest for the body to replace the volume of blood that Hank lost before and during surgery." "Did he tell you why he was so insistent on leaving?" "It's difficult for a man like Hank to remain inactive." She smiled slightly. "He had taken all that he could tolerate of sitting in the rocking chair staring out the window and resting in bed with a book." "At any time during his recuperation did you hear him voice his intention to revenge himself on the Walkers?" "No, I did not." "Dr. Quinn, do you recall seeing Hank Lawson on February 15th?" "Yes. He was at the school when I arrived there to speak to Caitlyn--Miss McShane." "What time would that have been?" "I'm certain that it was at some time after 3:00, because the students were gone." "Do you remember what he was wearing?" "I believe that it was the blue shirt that you showed to Miss Goodbody." "To the best of your recollection, how would you describe his mood that day?" "He was talking with Caitlyn and smiling. From all appearances, I would say that he was relaxed and happy." "Mr. Lawson, would you please stand?" Erik reached for the pitcher of water on the Judge's table and filled his glass half-full while the room waited. "Dr. Quinn, did you have occasion to examine either Cole or Doyle Walker during their incarceration?" "Yes, I did. I removed a bullet from Doyle Walker's arm." "Looking at the defendant, can you tell me their size in relationship to his?" "Doyle Walker and Hank are much the same height, but he outweighs Hank by at least 40 pounds." She eyed the barkeep as he stood next to the table. "Cole was perhaps five inches shorter and much stockier. My best estimate would be that he weighed around 230." "Felt more like 400 when we had to carry him to the graveyard," a voice called from the center of the church. "Not that I'm complainin'." "Was Doyle Walker's wound serious enough that he could not have defended himself more than two weeks later?" Ignoring the 'helpful' input, Erik continued his questioning of Michaela. "I would have to say no." "Dr. Quinn, in your professional judgement was Hank Lawson physically capable of knocking out the Sheriff--who is roughly Lawson's own size--and then taking on two men who outweighed him on February l5th?" "Absolutely not. In my opinion he would not have had the necessary strength at that time to fight even one of the Walkers. There is no possible way that he could have subdued two men." "Your witness." Erik returned to his seat next to Hank. "Dr. Quinn, you've had your differences with Mr. Lawson, am I correct?" Melvin Leslie tugged at his coat to straighten it as he approached the chair. "From time to time." "When your dear friend, Miss McShane, began seeing Mr. Lawson, you were extremely upset, were you not?" "I felt that Hank was--wrong--for Caitlyn." "What was it about him that gave you that feeling?" "Caitlyn is special to me, and I wanted her to have the very best." "And in your mind Hank Lawson was far from being the best?" "Objection. Counsel is leading the witness," Erik said drily. "Rephrase the question." Judge Baker nodded. "Based on your knowledge of Mr. Lawson, were there character traits of his that made you question in your own mind whether or not he was an appropriate match for Miss McShane?" "I was concerned that Hank might be unable to make a woman from Caitlyn's background happy," Mike shifted uncomfortably. "Would you share with the Court what some of those 'concerns' were that made you have reservations about Mr. Lawson and Miss McShane becoming romantically involved?" "Caitlyn comes from a prominent, wealthy family. She was prepared to formally enter society as a debutante...trained in all of the social graces...and then college educated. Hank is very much a man of the West. A man who has lived hard and fought for everything that he has," Michaela explained quietly. "I was afraid that she had been too gently reared for Hank and would end up with a broken heart. That the two of them were simply too different to be compatible." "Could you not as easily have been describing yourself and your husband, Mr. Sully? Are not the two of you also from quite divergent social stations and economic backgrounds? With major differences in your level of formal education?" he challenged. "I suppose that we are," she agreed. "Yet you still had misgivings about Miss McShane and Mr. Lawson?" "Initially, yes--I did." "During the time that Mr. Lawson has been your patient, Dr. Quinn, have you treated wounds which he acquired during physical altercations?" "He has been injured several times while breaking up fights in the saloon," Mike admitted. "However, most of those injuries have been simple cuts and bruises." "Would you agree that Mr. Lawson is a powerfully built man?" "Yes--he's quite muscular." "Isn't it true that in the past Mr. Lawson has never hesitated to take on two opponents at once?" "Hank doesn't appear to be afraid of very much," she hedged. "Dr. Quinn, the question that I am asking is whether or not you have ever seen Hank Lawson fight two men at the same time--and defeat them both?" "Yes." "Then is it not also possible that he could have taken on both Walkers in the jail--particularly if he was armed with a knife, and they were not?" "Not in his physical condition at that time," she repeated firmly. "Not on February 15th." "Has Hank Lawson ever killed a man?" "Not to my knowledge." "Has he ever beaten a man so badly that he was close to dying?" "Not that I am aware of." "Did he not, in fact, beat Horace Bing and injure him quite badly several years ago, in a fight over the woman who later became Myra Bing?" "Horace's injuries were undoubtedly painful, but I would not classify them as serious--and certainly not life-threatening." "Have you ever treated a gunshot wound inflicted by Mr. Lawson?" "Only once. Hank volunteered to help Sheriff Cooper rescue my children and me when we were being held hostage, and he wounded one of the men when he tried to escape." Clearly annoyed at having elicited unwelcome--and unexpected-- information, Leslie regrouped by glancing at his notes. "You stated earlier that to your knowledge Mr. Lawson has never killed anyone. Is that correct?" "Yes." "But you were a witness to the incident involving Mrs. Myra Bing and Hank Lawson during her engagement party, were you not?" "Yes, I was." "Did you believe at the time that Mr. Lawson intended to kill the future Mrs. Bing as she knelt there on her knees in front of him?" "Yes," she confessed, reluctantly. "What stopped that from happening?" "Hank didn't pull the trigger--not while the gun was pointed at Myra. It has always been her contention that he never actually intended to shoot her." "What about you, Dr. Quinn? In your own opinion, why didn't Hank Lawson pull that trigger?" he pressed. "He was knocked unconscious." "Without that intervention Mrs. Bing wouldn't be here to testify today, would she, Dr. Quinn?" "Objection, Your Honor," Erik interrupted drily. "Michaela Quinn is a physician, not a psychic." "No more questions." "Miss Caitlyn McShane." Although I had expected to testify, I startled slightly at the sound of my name. Getting to my feet, I ignored the disapproving faces in the audience as I put my hand on the Bible and was sworn in. Seemingly overnight I had gone from being a near-saintly schoolteacher in the eyes of the town to a woman with questionable morals. Those questions were minutes away from being answered--and becoming the final black marks against my character--as I took my seat next to the Judge. "Good afternoon, Miss McShane," Erik greeted me, smiling. "We have already established during previous testimony that you were present in the local bank during a robbery back at the first of February. And witnesses have stated that you narrowly missed being abducted and almost certainly injured. Are those facts correct?" "Yes, they are." "Did Doyle Walker intend to rape you?" "Objection. Witness can only testify to what actually happened, not Walker's intentions or state of mind." Leslie rose to his feet. "Sustained." "Miss McShane, when Doyle Walker grabbed you around the waist and was about to take you with him from the bank, what did you believe was in store for you?" Erik rephrased the question. "If Hank hadn't intervened, Walker had every intention of-- violating me," I said quietly. "Judging by the look on his face and in his eyes, that was never in doubt. At least not in my mind." "At that time were you and Mr. Lawson romantically involved?" "Prior to that day, I don't recall that the two of us had ever exchanged a civil word." "Did something change between you after that?" "What happened opened a door," I confessed, my cheeks growing warm. "While Hank was lying there on the floor of the bank, bleeding very badly, I realized how much it mattered to me whether or not he lived or died." "Am I correct that the two of you began seeing each other socially while he was in--or immediately after he left--Dr. Quinn's clinic?" "Yes." "Tell me about the day of February 15, Miss McShane. When did you first see Hank Lawson?" "He came to the school after classes let out--and brought me an apple." I smiled. "An apple for the teacher." "What kind of mood did he appear to be in?" "He was teasing me...laughing and smiling." "Did you see him again on the afternoon of February 15th?" "Hank was waiting in my front yard when I got home--after I'd talked with Michaela. Dr. Quinn. He and I had planned to go out riding together." "And what time was that?" "A few minutes past four o'clock." "Do you recall Mr. Lawson saying anything at all about how he was feeling physically that day?" "He mentioned to me that his back was hurting, and he seemed tired. I noticed more than once that whenever he made a sudden move he flinched with the pain." "How long were you and Mr. Lawson together on February l5th?" "From four in the afternoon until around 2:30 the following morning." Audible gasps and a wave of whispering swept through the room, causing the Judge to frown. "Quiet!" he barked. "Would you tell the Court how the two of you spent those hours?" "You mean he don't know?" A female voice answered sarcastically, causing another titter of laughter. "Maybe 'riding' don't mean the same thing in Denver," another wag chimed in. "I will clear the room if there are any more outbursts," Judge Baker warned, rising to his feet to make his point clear. There was immediate silence, and he nodded to Erik. "Continue your examination of the witness, Mr. Lausenstrom." "Miss McShane, you may answer the question." "Hank took me out to see the land that he bought after his son's mother died--the homestead where Zach had lived with the woman hired to look after him. And when it started to storm we put the horses in the part of the barn that still has a roof and headed for the cabin that's on the property. A place where we could light a fire and get out of the wind and rain... Wait for things to slack off enough to make it safe to leave." For the first time I allowed myself a glance at Hank, and I saw that his fists were clenched, his jaw muscle quivering slightly in anger at himself for being the cause of my humiliation. I met his gaze, and in the depths of those intense blue eyes, I found my wavering courage once again. "By the time that we were able to start back it was well after 1:00... Two by the time we got there. I had to be at work in a few hours and he didn't, so Hank offered to put up my mare--let me go on inside and get some sleep. By the time he rubbed her down and got her settled, he must have left there around 2:30." "Then it is your testimony that Hank Lawson was with you between 11:00 and midnight on the night of February 15?" "Yes, he was." "You're absolutely certain of those times?" "I'm positive." "Miss McShane, at any time has Mr. Lawson indicated to you that he wanted revenge for what the Walkers had done to either one of you?" "Never." "He has never shown any sign of rage in your presence that one of them attempted to abduct you and shot him?" "No, he has not." "Did you see Mr. Lawson again, early on the morning of February 16?" "Not long before five o'clock I heard a horse running hard up the road, so I grabbed my rifle and took a look." I kept my eyes locked on Erik. "Hank told me that Sheriff Simon was planning to arrest him on a suspicion that he had killed one of the Walkers during the night--and that he had to leave." "What did you say?" "I begged him not to go. I was willing to go to the Sheriff and explain that we had been accidentally caught out by the rain, even if it ruined my reputation." "How did Mr. Lawson respond?" Erik asked quietly. "He said that it wouldn't do any good--that Daniel wouldn't want to believe me because there was too much bad blood between them." "Did you actually go to Sheriff Simon and tell him that Hank was with you during the time that the murders were committed?" "Yes. On that same morning. February l6th. Hank had been right-- Mr. Simon accused me of lying." "Miss McShane, were you aware that your admission that the two of you were together could lead to the loss of your income?" "Yes." "Were you aware that it would tarnish what had previously been your completely spotless reputation?" "Yes." "Were you aware that people would make assumptions about what you and Mr. Lawson were doing while you were alone out there together?" "Yes." I took in a deep breath and released it. "You stood to lose a great deal, and yet you went to the Sheriff and told him where Hank was between 11:00 and midnight. Why?" "Because it's the truth," I said levelly. "Hank was with me--he wasn't even in Colorado Springs. It was impossible for him to be guilty of murdering Mr. Walker, and I thought that Sheriff Simon would want to know that." "No further questions." Erik nodded to Melvin Leslie. "Now, Miss McShane." Leslie crossed the room to stand in front of me. "When Mr. Lawson and you began courting, how did the town react to that bit of news?" "I was told that if I continued to see Hank I could lose my teaching position. That he wasn't suitable." "And what was your answer to that?" "I said that I wasn't willing to end our friendship." "So your reputation had already been sullied as a result of this liaison of yours?" "I would have no way of knowing what people said about me behind my back, Mr. Leslie." "Are you in love with Hank Lawson?" "A decision was made a few weeks ago that we would not pursue our relationship any further," I replied stiffly. "My question, Miss McShane, was if you are in love with the defendant?" "Sometimes love is not enough." "Would the Court instruct this witness to stop evading the prosecutor's question, Your Honor?" Melvin Leslie appealed to the Judge. "You must answer the question, Miss McShane," Judge Baker advised mildly. "I will repeat this one last time--are you in love with Hank Lawson?" A satisfied smirk curled the lawyer's lip as he faced me. "Yes." "Miss McShane, would you lie to protect a man who you were in love with?" "No, I would not." "You would never lie to protect him--not under any circumstances?" he boomed, coming up close to me. "If Hank was guilty of nothing more serious than cheating at poker when he and his brother were playing for matches, I doubt that I would say anything. But the same would definitely not be true if I knew that he had committed a cold-blooded murder." "Ma'am, have you ever lied to protect Mr. Lawson?" "Never." "Never." The look that he gave me was one of disbelief. "Were you aware of where the accused was during the time when he was evading arrest?" "No." "Mr. Lawson never told you where he was hiding?" "I still have no idea--even now." "Earlier you stated that you knew what Doyle Walker's intentions were toward you... Would you explain how it is it that a maiden lady like yourself recognized those signs?" "Any woman who has reached maturity would have understood equally well, Mr. Leslie." I held my head high. "It's really not all that difficult." "Miss McShane, have you been--intimate--with Mr. Lawson?" His oily voice cut through the room like a knife. "Objection!" Erik shouted furiously, leaping to his feet. "Counsel is entirely out of..." "NO! I HAVE NOT!" I spoke loudly enough to interrupt him, my skin fiery with embarrassment as I glared at the prosecuting attorney. "You may step down." Leslie made a dismissive motion with his hand. Still visibly angry Erik took a moment to gather himself before turning to his brother. "The defense calls Hank Lawson." |
