Family (13 page)

Dayne felt his head start to spin. He was tired and overwhelmed, sick of fighting the battle against the press and desperate for a normal life. He’d asked God to lead him, but he knew as surely as the article on the front page of the paper that it would be a long road, an all but impossible journey. Right here, right now, he wanted to take a swift shortcut and tell Katy the truth, let Luke know there was a reason for the mistaken identity. Of course they were mixing up the two of them.

They were brothers after all.

Instead he held his breath and slowly exhaled through tight lips. He found his familiar smile and managed an easy laugh. “Maybe it’ll take off some of the pressure. We can send you one way and me the other.” He grinned at Katy.

“Tomorrow’s paper can feature Luke, and that’ll give us both a break.”

Luke laughed, but Katy seemed drawn by the resemblance. Twice during the next few minutes she studied Luke and then Dayne. Finally she shook her head. “You’re sure you’re not related?”

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“Like I said-” Luke shrugged-“everyone has a double out there.”

Lunch passed quickly. Soon Dayne was back on the witness stand, and it was the defense attorney’s turn to question him. Tara had warned him that the only reason the man would travel down the path of action, of wanting specific details about what Dayne and Katy were doing on the beach, was to raise doubt as to their ability to recount facts regarding Margie.

In other words, if they were involved in a romantic moment, their testimony about the initial aspects of the attack might not be as valid. Joe had explained that Dayne and Katy would’ve had to have been very involved to miss the details in question. Possibly lying on the beach, maybe without clothes. That sort of thing.

Dayne’s stomach turned at the idea that his own testimony might lead to that kind of impression about someone as true and right and pure as Katy Hart. They had barely kissed that night. He wasn’t leaving the stand with a single person believing otherwise.

As soon as the questions began, Dayne steadied himself. Tara was right. The man was definitely heading in that direction. “Mr. Matthews, the beach was dark at the time of the attack; is that right?”

“It was, yes.”

“And you were … preoccupied with Katy Hart before ever seeing someone come at her; is that right?”

“We were talking, yes.” Dayne’s stomach tightened.

The gray-haired man held his hand up and paced across the floor. He smiled at Dayne over his shoulder. “You were on a private beach with a beautiful young actress after dark.” He chuckled. “It would be fair to say you were doing more than talking. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Matthews?”

Tara was on the edge of her seat, ready to object, but Dayne had asked her not to jump in too quickly. If the defense attorney 100

said something that left a damaging impression, he wanted the chance to clear the air. This was exactly that kind of moment.

“Actually we were finished talking, and we were heading back to the parking lot.” Dayne worked to keep his tone even. He wanted to look at Katy, tell her with his eyes that he would undo the damage done by the attorney’s cavalier attitude. But he didn’t dare. “We were not distracted in any way when the defendant jumped from the bushes and grabbed Ms. Hart.”

A stir came from the jury and from the media at the back of the room. Dayne was definitely the man of the hour. He wasn’t backing down, wasn’t allowing himself to be handled by the defense attorney. His story was airtight.

The defense attorney lost his flip attitude. His expression grew serious as he turned and faced Dayne. “Isn’t it true that you’re not exactly sure about the identity of the defendant, Mr. Matthews, because you were lying on the sand having sex with Katy Hart at the time of the attack? Remember, you are under oath, Mr. Matthews.”

A stir came from the press along the back of the courtroom.

Dayne wanted to jump down from the witness stand and punch the old guy, but every eye was on him, every second counting.

Tara slapped the table in front of her and rose in an angry burst. They had planned this response if the defense attorney dared ask such a question.

“Objection, Your Honor, counsel is harassing the witness, taking the line of questioning off the crime and making this a personal attack.”

Judge Nguyen lifted his chin and cast a stern look at the gray-haired attorney.

“Sustained. Counsel, you will be more careful with your questions.” He looked at Dayne. “You may choose not to answer the question if you wish.”

“No.” Dayne sat a little straighter, indignant. “I definitely wish to answer the question.” He looked at the defense attorney. “I am aware that I am under oath.

Ms. Hart and I were at the

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beach that night to discuss a part in my movie. We did not sit or lay on the sand, and we did not have sex.” He didn’t blink. “As I said, we were finished talking, and we were headed back to the parking lot when the defendant jumped from the bushes and attacked Ms. Hart.”

The attorney held his gaze for another moment, but defeat was written across his face. It had been a gamble to attack Dayne in so public a fashion. He was America’s hero, its favorite heartthrob. Now, without question, everyone in the courtroom could see that the gamble hadn’t paid off. More than likely, it had cost the defense dearly.

Silently, Dayne thanked God. The truth had been allowed to prevail, and at least for this moment KCaty’s reputation was still intact.

The cross-examination seemed to go more quickly after that. The attorney shifted his questions toward the sanity-or lack thereof-regarding Margie Madden. Ten minutes into the exchange the man seemed to have a change of heart, as if he wanted Dayne off the stand as quickly as possible. Maybe he was only then realizing that anything coming from the mouth of a polished, well-known actor was bound: to damage his client.

Afterwards Tara took another turn. She led Dayne through another half hour of questions about the attack. Again it was strategy. She had already covered the ground once. But she had explained earlier that if the defense tried anything funny, she would march the testimony back to the actual attack and away from any signs of insanity on the part of Margie Madden. That way the lasting impression on the mineds of the jury and media alike was very clear: Dayne and Katy were nearly killed, and there was no doubt that the defendant was the person behind the attack.

At just before two o’clock, Tara addressed Dayne. “Do you believe, Mr. Matthews, that the defendent, Margie Madden, followed you to Paradise Cove intent on killing you and Ms. Hart?”

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The defense attorney lifted his head as if he might object. But instead he turned his attention to a file in front of him.

“Yes, I believe she followed us there. I had seen a similar yellow Honda Civic parked near my studio and also near my home.”

Tara raised her brow. “Any other reason, Mr. Matthews?”

“Well-” he studied Margie Madden until he could feel the jury doing the same thing-“the defendant told me she should’ve killed me while she had the chance.”

“She told you?” Tara sounded surprised. “The defendant told you that she should’ve killed you while she had the chance?”

“Yes.”

Tara gave a knowing look to the jury, then to Dayne. “Thank you, Mr. Matthews.

No further questions.” She checked her file. “The prosecution calls Katy Hart.”

Tara had said that she thought Katy’s testimony would come Wednesday morning.

“But I might change my mind,” she’d told them at lunch. “If I feel the pressure’s too intense, I’ll save my mental-health witnesses for tomorrow and get the two of you out of the courtroom today.”

Dayne felt his heart skip a beat. So this was it. They’d finish it all in one day-at least until closing arguments. Dayne exchanged a brief look with Katy as she rose and faced the front of the courtroom, straight and proud. She was shaking but not as badly as the day before when Margie lashed out at her.

As he sat down next to Joe Morris he did the only thing he could do. He prayed with everything in him that Katy would survive the next few hours.

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Katy felt herself being carried. Against a backdrop of constant camera clicks, she crossed the floor, climbed the two steps up to the witness stand, and took her seat.

Dayne was praying for her. She could sense it deep inside her soul. Dayne and somewhere back in Bloomington everyone who cared about her. God was with her; she had no doubt.

Let them see You, Lord, not me… . When they take my picture, when they write about me, let them see You.

Peace eased her mind and stilled the trembling in her arms and legs.

Tara wasted no time taking charge. She began with easy questions, Katy’s name and the fact that she had indeed worked as an actress. The line of questioning established that Katy was in town at the time of the attack because she was considering a role in the movie Dream On, and she was in fact talking with Dayne about that part when the attack took place.

Twice during Tara’s early questions, Margie sneered at Katy, tumbling something that Katy couldn’t make out. Margie’s

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attorney slid a glass of water to her and whispered something. Margie drank the water and focused on the table in front of her. Whatever had calmed her down this morning was apparently wearing off because she was more combative than before.

“Would you describe what happened the night in question, please, Ms. Hart?”

Katy shuddered. This was the hardest part, going back to those terrifying moments and doing it here, in front of cameras and reporters and a jury. In front of Margie Madden.

She leaned in and adjusted the microphone. “Mr. Matthews and I were finished with our discussion, and we were heading back to the parking lot.” Her heart thudded so hard she had trouble thinking. “We approached a section of bushes, and from my left side a woman jumped out and grabbed me.” Katy touched her throat. “She held a knife to my neck and told me she was going to kill me.”

There was a rustling of notepads and the click of cameras, and Katy understood.

The picture of her on the witness stand, her hand on her throat, recounting the attack would be perfect for the front page. She lowered her hand as Tara approached one of her team members. The young lawyer handed her a file, and she held it up. “I’d like to submit this as evidence, Your Honor.”

“Describe it for the jury, please.” The judge slid his chair closer to the bench and peered over the edge. “Then let me take a look.”

“In here-” Tara held the file higher-“are photographs taken by police the night of the attack on Katy Hart and Dayne Matthews. The pictures will show marks on Katy Hart’s neck and a cut along the inside of her upper left arm.”

The press seemed to jump to action, taking note of this new bit of information.

There were police photographs, something new to write about.

Tara handed the file to Judge Nguyen.

After a minute of flipping through the pictures, he nodded.

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“Yes, this will be admitted as evidence.” He handed the file back to Tara. “Show the jurors, please.”

Tara seemed more than happy to oblige.

Katy settled back in the witness stand, glad that the attention was off her, at least for the moment.

Ten minutes passed while the jurors looked at the photos and passed them down the row.

After all twelve had studied them, Tara collected the file and turned back to Katy. This time she took out the photos and came closer to the witness stand.

“This first picture.” She presented a photo of Katy’s neck, one where the marks were very clear. “Can you explain how you obtained these marks, please, Ms.

Hart?”

Katy steadied herself. “The … the defendant pressed the blade of her knife against my throat. She pressed … very hard.” Again her hand went to her neck. “I couldn’t scream or swallow. I could barely breathe.”

“So you’re telling this courtroom that the defendant, Margie Madden, pressed her knife so hard against your throat that she left these marks?”

“Yes.”

Tara sifted through the file to the picture of the cut along the inside of her arm. “And this cut, Ms. Hart? Could you explain for the jury how you received this cut?”

“Yes.” Katy felt faint. She folded her arms tight against her middle. “The defendant took the tip of her knife and sliced it down the inside of my left arm. Then she said that pretty girls bleed easy.” She was shaking again, shaking and struggling to fill her lungs. “She told me there would be even more blood once she … once she sliced my throat.”

Again Tara allowed the horror of the moment to sink in before she continued to the next question. She slowly slipped the photographs back into the file and returned them to her assistant. Once she was back in front of Katy, she faced her squarely. “Tell us, Ms. Hart, if Mr. Matthews hadn’t intervened 106

on the night of the attack, what do you believe the defendant would’ve done?”

Katy tried not to look at Margie Madden, but she couldn’t help it. She shot her a quick glance, then trained her eyes once more on the prosecutor. “I have no doubt she would have killed me. She told me she would kill me. She said it was … it was what she came there to do.”

Tara nodded, taking in the information. “Can you identify the person who committed this attack against you, Ms. Hart?”

“Yes.” Katy pointed at Margie. “That’s her. There at the defense table.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hart.” Tara turned. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Katy exhaled. She had lasted through this much; now if she could only survive the cross-examination. The cameras were still locked on her, capturing every move, every nuance she might make. But she had to look at Dayne, had to see what he was feeling. Her gaze shifted, and instantly she felt the connection. He was staring at her, probably willing her to feel his support and prayers, his concern for her.

And there, looking at him, she saw what she needed to see. His eyes danced with pride, shouting at her that she had done brilliantly and that very soon they would be finished with this nightmare for good. She drew strength from him, then turned her attention to the gray-haired attorney making his way toward her.