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‘So you dispute what Erica Voss has said.’
‘I dispute it wholeheartedly. We had casual sex. Twice. That’s it. We were not in love. She never indicated that she had any feelings for me. I loved my wife. I felt that Erica had deliberately seduced me both times. I was twenty-three years old. I’m not proud of cheating on my wife. I put an end to it. Quickly. I didn’t want to jeopardize what I had with Lindsey.’
‘So your marriage was a good one?’
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘You didn’t argue?’
‘No. Certainly not much, anyway. We got along well.’
‘Did you try to talk to Erica after the death of your wife?’
‘No. I’d been avoiding her since the second time in her apartment. I did approach her at the funeral – I tried to speak to everyone, to thank them for coming – but she turned her back on me. I was relieved, frankly. I didn’t want anything to do with her.’
‘Did Erica Voss ever threaten you and demand money from you in return for her silence?’
‘Yes, on several occasions, in August of this year.’
‘Did you ever pay her any money?’
‘No.’
‘Did you ever offer her any money?’
‘No.’
‘Thank you.’
Patrick’s own attorney stands and says, ‘No questions, your honour.’
Stephanie watches her husband leave the witness box. He had conducted himself well. He’d been believable, perhaps even slightly more believable than Erica. But she doesn’t know what the jurors are thinking. He sits down beside her and she clutches his hand and squeezes it fiercely. He squeezes her hand in return.
‘Your honour, I call Dr Karen Soley.’
A heavy woman makes her way to the witness stand and is sworn in.
‘State your name, please, and your credentials,’ Spellman says.
‘My name is Karen Soley. I’m a forensic pathologist with Grant County.’
‘And did you perform the autopsy on Lindsey Kilgour?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘What were your findings?’
‘I found that Lindsey had died of acute carbon monoxide poisoning. The baby had died in utero.’
‘Was there anything else of interest in the autopsy?’
‘No, not at all.’
Next, Ms Spellman says, ‘I’d like to call Dr Joseph Chang.’
Stephanie feels Patrick start beside her. She glances at him, but he is facing forward. She wonders who this other doctor is. She doesn’t have to wait long to find out.
‘Can you state your qualifications?’
‘I am an emergency doctor at Saint Brigid Hospital in Denver. ‘I’ve been there over twelve years now.’
‘And in the course of your work, did you ever have occasion to see Lindsey Kilgour in the emergency room at Saint Brigid Hospital?’
‘Yes. I saw her late on the night’ – he consults his notes – ‘of November 24, 2008. She had fallen down a flight of stairs and wanted the baby checked. She was about six and a half months pregnant at the time.’
‘She’d fallen down the stairs?’
‘That’s what she said.’
A murmur runs through the audience.
‘And did you examine her?’
‘Yes. We performed an ultrasound and found that the baby was unharmed. But she – Lindsey – had fresh, extensive bruising along her back, as well as bruising and a contusion on the back of her head, under her hair – injuries consistent with a fall down a flight of stairs.’
‘And did you have any suspicions about this fall?’
‘She insisted it was an accident. There was no reason – at that time – not to believe her.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
STEPHANIE SINKS BACK into her seat. She tries to breathe through the intensifying pain of a panic attack. She doesn’t want anyone to see that she is in distress. Patrick is staring stoically straight ahead, but she can detect the tension in his clenched jaw. He looks stunned. She knows she shouldn’t, but she dares to turn around and look at Erica. Erica’s face shows shock. She didn’t know about this, Stephanie realizes with a sickening feeling.
What’s going to happen now?
As if in answer to her question, the judge bangs his gavel and says, ‘I’m calling a short recess. We’ll resume in twenty minutes.’
Stephanie and Patrick hurriedly retreat to a private room, ushered away by Lange, who closes the door behind them. His face is flushed. Stephanie is trying to make sense of what this might mean.
‘Sit down,’ he directs them.
They both promptly sit. He remains standing, looking down at Patrick, his expression severe. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this before?’
‘I don’t like your tone,’ Patrick says, looking like he’s spoiling for a fight.
‘You have a lot more to worry about right now than my tone,’ the attorney replies sharply.
Stephanie watches her husband swallow; her chest is so tight it’s almost unbearable. But they don’t notice the distress she’s in; she’s become so good at hiding it.
‘It slipped my mind,’ Patrick says sullenly.
‘You expect me to believe that?’ the attorney says angrily.
Patrick remains stonily silent, refusing to look at his attorney.
‘Tell us what happened.’
‘She fell down the flight of stairs from the kitchen to the back door. She was tired and missed the top step when she was taking out the garbage.’
Stephanie puts a hand to her mouth, feels the bile rising in her throat. He’s never told any of them about this before. Why was Lindsey taking out the garbage? Why didn’t he take the garbage out for her? She was six and a half months pregnant. Patrick always takes the garbage out for her. Did he simply forget that she had fallen down the stairs and been to the hospital a few weeks before she died? Did he not see how damning that might look? She wonders if he’s lying.
‘Where were you?’
‘I was in the kitchen.’
‘Were you arguing?’ Lange asks.
Patrick looks up at his lawyer coldly. ‘No. I wasn’t anywhere near her. She fell on her own.’
Stephanie looks at Patrick’s attorney. He looks grim, and her heart sinks further. She knows, now, that they’re in trouble. She feels as if she’s floating up, out of her body. She knows tiredness can wreak havoc with her perceptions, and it’s almost a relief, to feel as if she’s floating away, away from what’s going on here in this claustrophobic room in the courthouse. She wonders in a strange, detached way if they argued, if they fought, despite her husband’s denials, and whether he pushed his wife down the stairs. She knows his lawyer is wondering the same thing. Patrick has never been violent with her. Was he violent with his first wife? Is it possible? The moment of silence seems to go on for ever, as if they are all poised on the brink of disaster, and no one wants to move forward.
But finally the attorney glances at his watch and says, ‘You’re going to have to explain.’
Patrick nods.
‘And you’re going to have to be convincing.’
When Patrick is recalled to the stand, he rises and walks the short distance across the courtroom floor. He feels as if all his senses are heightened. He reminds himself not to look angry. He must not show how angry he is to be here, defending himself against these accusations, no matter how justified that anger is. It should never have come to this. It’s all because of Erica. How dare she lie about the blackmail? But he must not think about Erica, because she makes him angriest of all. He won’t look at her when he reaches the stand, turns around, and sits facing the people in the crowded courtroom. He will look only at counsel asking him questions. He will keep his voice mild and even, and explain what happened. They will believe him. They must. They believed him before – he could feel it. He could sense in the courtroom, just a short while ago, that the jury was on his side, not Erica’s. But this bit about the bruises has pushed them away from him, he knows it. He knows how it looks. His lawyer is worried, and his wife – he can sense that she has begun to doubt him, and it has unmoored him. This has upset her. He no longer knows what she believes.
He remembers that night. He’d seen Lindsey fall down the stairs, saw the whole thing happen as if in slow motion. He’d been afraid that someone might dig up that hospital visit and try to make something out of it. But he didn’t think they would.
The counsel for the coroner asks, her voice solemn, ‘Can you explain how your wife got these bruises?’
Cheryl turns on the evening news in the kitchen while she’s preparing supper. She hears a reporter start talking about the inquest today in Creemore and turns to look at the television screen. She watches footage of a dark-haired, harassed-looking couple hurrying into the courthouse, and then of a blonde woman following after them. Cheryl’s entire body tenses when she recognizes Erica Voss. What the hell has she got to do with this?
