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“I've no idea. The only possibility is that my mother may have given them to him.”
“What would the purpose be in her doing that?”
“You'd have to ask her,” I answered.
She then pulled out the piece of paper that had typing on it reading, “I believe these belong to you, Sissy.”
“Do you recognize this piece of paper?” she asked.
“Yes, that's the note that was pinned to the camisole top that was left on the porch of my cottage.”
“And when did this happen, Ms. Preston?”
“I don’t recall the exact date, it was on a Sunday; I do remember that. Trey and I'd gone to eat at Morelli’s outside of Bristol that afternoon. He walked me back to my cottage, and the clothes and the note were in a shopping bag, hanging on the knob of my front door. I thought Trey had wanted to surprise me with a gift…” my voice trailed off.
“So Mr. Sinclair was with you when you found these on your porch?”
“Yes. He'd just had the locks changed. I think it was the end of June sometime.”
Ms. Denniston held up the two blue velvet jewelry boxes. “Can you identify these Ms. Preston?”
“Yes. These are the two blue velvet jewelry cases that were left in my cottage. I recognize the earrings and necklace as those previously given to me by my mother the night of my senior prom. I actually hadn’t seen them since the night of my prom. I thought I'd lost them at one of the after-prom parties. They showed up here in my cottage underneath my bed covers a day or two prior to the PJs being left on my door.”
“Was there any note left with these?” she asked.
“No, just the boxes. I remember that I'd walked back to my cottage from the racetrack over at the Belle. It was dark, and my horse was…scratched from the last race. I noticed lights on in my cottage that had not been on when I left for the track earlier. I was looking through my own windows, when Trey came up on me. He went in the cottage to check it out before I did.”
“So Mr. Sinclair was there when you discovered these boxes under your bed covers?”
I didn’t like the tone her questioning was taking regarding Trey.
“Yes he was. We were discussing the matter of my horse being scratched from the race that evening. We weren’t entirely in agreement on it.”
Ms. Denniston pulled out another folded piece of paper from her box of goodies. It was inserted into a plastic sleeve like the other one. “Do you recognize this note Ms. Preston?” It was the one addressed to ‘Sissy’ stating the sender missed the sweet taste of her cunt and promising to find her.
“Yes. It was shoved underneath the door of my cottage.”
“Do you remember when that was?”
“Not the specific date, no. It was after the PJs were left.”
“Was Mr. Sinclair at the cottage when you found it?”
“No, actually Trey was in Atlanta where his law firm is located. My friend Gina was with me at the cottage. I wasn’t staying at the cottage; Gina and I were staying at the Sinclair manor. I had to go and get more clothes and stuff, so Gina went with me. She saw it on the floor inside the door and gave it to me.”
“Ms. Preston, is there any particular reason that you didn’t mention of lot of these incidents in your statement previously given to the detectives at the hospital?”
“Ms. Denniston, with what I've shared with you here this morning, you must see how ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated I am about my past, about my mother, and the type of person that she was and still is for that matter. I know that there is a link between my mom and Charlie Roberts; to what extent, I've no way of knowing. I know that my trust was emptied out shortly after I arrived in Bristol. Trey believes that Charlie may be a co-conspirator in that as well. I only recently came to terms with the fact that my mother was and possibly still is a prostitute; that my heritage is a total mystery. So if I’m not particularly eager to discover whether my mom actually wanted me dead, and paid Charlie to do the job, it isn’t because I’m trying to obstruct justice in any way, it’s only because I’m not sure I could handle that much hate in one lifetime from my mother.”
Ms. Denniston looked at me and smiled. It was the first time that I saw compassion cross her face. I understood that she wanted justice served and it was her duty to ascertain the merit of existing criminal charges and to explore the possibility that Charlie had not acted alone. There was a human element involved. I was a key witness to the facts. She had to press me just as a defense attorney would if this went to trial.
“I understand that you’re going to be a mother,” she said.
“Yes, in early May.”
“I wish you the best, Ms. Preston. I've a feeling that your child will be blessed with a mother who will give him or her love and nurturing every child deserves, but that you were denied.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
