“Do you know where Joey is?” Trimble asked again.
“No.”
“So he was on your mind that night as well?”
“Yes.”
“Was Joey late for his curfew the night you were dealing with Gerry Fletcher?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know where he was?”
“No.”
Trimble put his hands behind his back, once more in complete control of himself. “The night you saw Gerry Fletcher, you were worried about your husband and your son, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think your judgment was impaired?”
“No.”
“But didn’t you choose not to notify the Fletchers that their son was in the post ER?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew that was against the rules and regulations of this post?”
“Yes.”
Trimble leaned forward and put his hands on the witness-box railing. “Do you consider yourself above the rules and regulations of this post, Mrs. Gander?”
“No.”
“How can you say that after admitting that you willingly broke those rules and regulations?”
“I bent those rules and regulations in order to help Gerry Fletcher.”
“Didn’t the boy tell you he fell off his house?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t the truth.”
“And what was the truth?”
“Gerry said his mother and father got into an argument that night,” Megan said. She tried to make her voice strong and controlled. “Private Fletcher struck his wife. More than once.” She turned to the jury as Benbow had instructed her to.
“Mrs. Gander,” Trimble called, trying to step into her line of vision.
Megan hurried on. “Private Fletcher struck his wife more than once. Gerry tried to intervene. Private Fletcher then struck his own son, injuring him to the point that he needed emergency-room attention.”
“Mrs. Gander,” Trimble said. “Would you look at me?”
Megan did.
“Do you believe that was the truth?”
“Yes,” Megan said, “I do.”
Trimble returned to his table and came back with a piece of paper. “I have the doctor’s report from that night. It states that Gerry Fletcher fell off his roof.”
“Objection,” Benbow said. “The major is making a statement, not asking a question.”
“Sustained,” Erickson said. “Major, please address the witness with a question.”
Trimble nodded and asked, “Mrs. Gander, have you seen Gerry Fletcher’s hospital report from that night?”
“No.”
Trimble passed the paper over. “Please have a look at it now. Look at the reason for treatment.”
Megan looked.
“Please read it for the court,” Trimble directed.
“’Patient said he fell from his rooftop while stargazing.’”
Trimble took the paper back. “I used to do a lot of stargazing in my youth. But I never did it from my rooftop. Do you know why?”
“Objection,” Benbow said. “The major is leading the witness. Unless she grew up with or had prior knowledge of Major Trimble while he lived at home she could not possibly have the answer to that question. Given the age difference between the two of them, I don’t think that’s possible.”
The comment drew a withering stare from Trimble, but Benbow withstood the effort with ease.
“Sustained,” the colonel responded. “Major, a less personal question, if you please.”
“I will be happy to oblige, Colonel.” Trimble smiled, showing everyone there he was in control. “Did you ever stargaze, Mrs. Gander?”
“Yes.”
“Ever from the rooftop of your own home?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Megan hesitated, knowing there was no way around the answer she had to give. “Because my parents wouldn’t allow it.”
“Why wouldn’t your parents allow something as innocent as stargazing from the rooftop?”
“They felt it was too dangerous.”
“Why was it dangerous?”
“Because I might have fallen.”
Trimble turned and walked away. “Did you ever go up on the rooftop, Mrs. Gander? In spite of your parents’ orders?”
“No. I did not.”
“You obeyed them?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that Private Fletcher told his son not to go up on that rooftop?”
Megan halted for a moment. “No. I didn’t know that.” But she felt certain Fletcher was lying.
“Did Gerry mention that his father told him not to go up on the rooftop?”
“No.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that boys sometimes don’t obey their parents?”
Megan knew that the insinuation was there for the jury and everyone else that Joey hadn’t been obeying either. “No,” she said, “it would not.”
“Has your son ever come home and told you a fib to get out of trouble?”
Benbow said, “Colonel, I fail to see the relevance of that question, and I find it insulting.”
“Colonel,” Trimble said in a calm tone, “the question lends itself to both Mrs. Gander’s professional capacity as a counselor and to her personal experience as a mother. Children lie to their parents to keep out of trouble. It’s a fact of life.”
“Not all children,” Megan said. Chris had never told a lie a single day in his life.
“I’ll allow the question,” the colonel said.
Obviously disgusted, Benbow shook his head and sat.
“Did your son Joey ever lie to you, Mrs. Gander?” Trimble asked.
“Yes,” Megan answered, and her heart ached.
“On more than one occasion?”
“Yes.”
“So you are no stranger to the fact that children tell lies?”
“No.”
“In fact, haven’t young people and children that you’ve worked with in your counseling job also lied not only to their parents but to you as well?”
“Yes.”
“And they did it, many times, to keep out of trouble?”
“Yes.”
Trimble leaned on the witness-box railing again, only a few feet from her. “Did Gerry Fletcher lie to you that night when he said his father beat him?”
“No.”
Trimble drew back for a moment. “Did you see Private Fletcher beat his son, Mrs. Gander?”
Megan forced her breath out. “Of course not. I would have had Private Fletcher up on charges so fast it would have made his head swim.”
“Then how do you know Gerry Fletcher was telling the truth?”
“Because I believed him.”
“Did the people at the front desk believe him when he said he fell from his house?”
Megan had heard their testimonies. “Yes. But Helen Cordell and Dr. Craig Carson didn’t believe the story about falling off the house. That’s why they called me.”
“Because you are—were—Gerry’s counselor?”
“Yes.” Trimble’s hesitation over word selection brought it home to Megan that Gerry was gone, that Chris was gone.
“Did they think you could figure out which truth was the true truth?” Trimble asked.
“They already knew the truth,” Megan said. “They were hoping I could get Gerry to open up and tell about the beatings he’d been
