“Is it possible that your testimony has changed because you don’t want to see Krista Larkin’s sister also meet an unhappy fate?”
“That’s not it. Amy wasn’t the one outside the window.” Hanging tough.
The courtroom door opened with its customary squeak. I turned. A tall, attractive woman in a gray business suit walked in. Limped in, actually. She had a noticeable hitch in her gait. She wore sunglasses, and her reddish- brown hair was tied back in a bun. Her overall appearance was that of a mid-level executive at a local bank.
I turned back and saw Ziegler lift out of his seat. He was caught in an awkward half crouch, his mouth open, trying to form the word “no.”
Melody Sanders. Or so she called herself. He had no idea she was coming. He didn’t want her here.
She walked up to the front row, wincing just a bit as she sat down. A pinkish scar ran from her left ear diagonally across her cheekbone, stopping just short of her mouth. She removed her sunglasses. Smiled at me. She mouthed a greeting, “Hello, Jake.”
I thought I was ready for this moment, but I wasn’t. The last time I had seen her, she was flipping me the bird and hopping into Ziegler’s Porsche, headed for some porn shoot. My throat was parched, and my voice wobbled. “Hello, Krista,” I said.
67 The Damn Ugly Truth
Alex Castiel had been watching Ziegler. Then he swiveled toward the gallery. For a second, no sense of recognition, but as he focused on Krista Larkin, Castiel’s face fell into slack-jawed disbelief.
He looked back at Ziegler, then his eyes returned to Krista. Yep, still there. Finally, his look turned to me. He seemed to be asking how much I knew.
I’d had everything wrong. I’d mistaken the dragon for the knight, and vice versa. Charlie Ziegler was gruff and profane but ultimately had a heart. Alex Castiel polished his exterior to a fine gloss, but inside he was the beast.
And me? I was the guy who failed to rescue a girl eighteen years ago but had a chance to make amends today.
Castiel was glaring at me. In just a few seconds, he had gone from confusion to fear to blinding hatred. Suddenly, the wooden pointer in his right hand snapped in two, the
“Mr. Castiel, anything further?” the judge prompted.
“Not at this time, Your Honor.” Castiel dropped into his chair and struggled to keep his emotions in check.
On the witness stand, Ziegler kept a grip on the rail. I got to my feet and approached. I could let him go. The state would rest. I’d tell the judge I had a newly discovered witness not on my list. An alibi witness. Krista Larkin. Castiel would object, but the judge would allow her testimony. It would almost certainly be reversible error not to.
Or …
I could take a shot at Ziegler first. Krista’s existence was no longer a secret. What did he have to lose by confronting Castiel with his past?
“Mr. Ziegler, first I want to thank you for the courage to correct your earlier mistaken testimony.”
“Objection!” Castiel snapped, letting me know that he hadn’t left the building. “This isn’t an awards banquet.”
“Sustained,” Judge Duckworth agreed. “No speechifying, Mr. Lassiter.”
I turned sideways to the witness stand and looked toward the gallery. My granny taught me it was impolite to point, so I merely nodded my head in that direction. “Do you know the woman who just walked into the courtroom?”
He didn’t answer. I listened to the whine of the ancient air conditioner. A spectator coughed. A juror’s swivel chair squeaked.
Finally, Ziegler said, “Melody Sanders.”
“Has she ever been known by another name?”
He was barely audible when he said, “Krista Larkin.”
“For the record, just who is Krista Larkin?”
“Your client’s sister.”
Several jurors gasped. The mystery woman-the presumed deceased mystery woman-was in the room. The jurors stared intently at her, aware she must play an important role in the shooting of Max Perlow, but not knowing just what.
“Obviously, my client was wrong,” I said. “You didn’t kill her sister.”
“Obviously.”
“Did there come a time that my client learned her sister was still alive?”
“Not from me.”
“How, then?”
Another pause. He still hadn’t made up his mind how much to tell.
“Mr. Ziegler,” the judge said. “There’s a question pending.”
“Krista went to her sister’s motel. They had a reunion, you might say.”
“Did you approve of this get-together?”
“I didn’t have a vote. Krista never asked my opinion.”
“Would you have said no?”
“Probably. When Amy came to town and started making accusations, I told Krista to let the dust settle before reaching out to her.”
“When did this happen, the reunion at the motel?”
“The day before Max was shot.”
A soft murmur floated through the courtroom.
“So, take us back there. It’s the day before Max was killed. The sisters are at Amy’s motel. What happened next?”
“Krista brought Amy back to her apartment.”
“How long did my client stay?”
“Two nights.”
“How do you know that?”
“Both women were in the apartment when I called Krista to tell her that Max had just been shot. That’s when I learned the girls had gotten together.”
He wasn’t there, so it wasn’t a complete alibi. Maybe half-a-bi. Krista could lock it down when her turn came to testify. Equally important, Ziegler’s testimony destroyed motive. Once Amy learned that her sister was alive-the day
“Over the years, did you ever tell Alex Castiel that Krista was alive?” Relying now on what Amy had told me before I left the holding cell.
“Objection!” Castiel bounced to his feet and took a position between my table and the bench. “Irrelevant and immaterial. These supposed facts involving the defendant’s sister have no nexus to the shooting of Max Perlow.”
I ran a curl pattern around the defense table and ended up alongside Castiel. “Your Honor, the prosecutor opened the door when he asked whether the witness felt guilty over Krista Larkin’s disappearance.”
“I agree,” the judge said. “Door open. Horse out of the barn. Overruled.”
Castiel didn’t take his seat. He seemed unable to move.
