“Mr. Ellison, earlier in this trial you testified for the State. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You told this jury that back when Caroline Simms was missing, you saw David Mercer taking down missing-person posters. Correct?”
His fingers tightened on the armrest.
“Yes.”
She let the word sit for a beat.
“Mr. Ellison,” she said more quietly, “was that true?”
A flush crept up his neck.
He glanced, once, toward the gallery where a couple of his current coworkers sat, then looked back at the jury.
“No,” he said finally. “Not the way I made it sound.”
Across the aisle, Reid’s jaw tightened once.
Then his expression went blank again.
“Help us understand,” Eleanor said. “What did you actually see?”
“There was a bulletin board at the hardware store,” he said. “They’d put those flyers up with her picture. I saw somebody there, late one night, pullin’ a handful of ’em down and stuffin’ ’em in a bag.”
“Did you see that person’s face?”
“No.”
“Did you see that person’s truck?”
He hesitated.
“There was a white pickup parked out front,” he said. “Mercer Construction decal on the door.”
“Did you see who got out of that truck?”
“No,” Ellison admitted. “Just saw it there.”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“Mr. Ellison,” she said, “when you talked to the podcast host, and later to law enforcement, did you tell them you actually saw David Mercer’s face taking those posters down?”
He stared at the rail in front of him.
“I… yeah,” he said. “I said it was him.”
“Why?”
He let out a breath that sounded more like a sigh than an exhale.
“I was mad at him,” he said. “And once people started listenin’… I didn’t back off like I should’ve.”
“Mr. Ellison,” Eleanor said, “when the podcast came calling, did you tell them more than you actually knew?”
His shoulders slumped.
