The Verdict, page 21
52
It was 1:37 AM, and I was still hard at work. I needed to go home to sleep before I went into court, but I wasn’t yet tired. I hoped to get at least four or five hours, but I was running out of time.
My phone rang.
I stared at it in surprise as I glanced down at the caller ID. I was about to answer but stopped and looked at it again. The name hadn’t registered with me the first time I’d looked.
Why is Detective Gray calling? I wondered.
“It’s Mitch Turner,” I said after answering the phone.
“Mitch, I’m sorry to disturb you, but do you have a second?”
It was hard to talk to her so soon after watching her testify against my ex-girlfriend in court, but I bit down my desire to be caustic.
“Sure, for you, I have two seconds.” I glanced at my watch again and had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.
“I’m actually—”
Somebody on the other side said something I couldn’t hear.
“Stephanie, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Mitch. I have to go.”
The line went dead.
I was now fully awake. Winston called before I could analyze the situation.
It’s busier now than twelve hours ago, I thought as I answered the phone.
“Mitch, you getting any sleep tonight?”
“None. What do you need?”
“I’ve identified the person you sent me to follow. Her name is Kinsey Whittington.”
“Hmmm. She told me her first name but lied about her last. I’m shocked.”
“Why did you want me to follow her?”
“She’s persistent and annoying. She’s going out of her way to sit by me during the trial. I thought I’d have you check her out to see if you could learn anything useful.”
I didn’t want to tell Winston my theory she might be somehow tied to Thomas Guyton’s murder until he discovered something that made me feel more certain about it. Sometimes, I got feelings and ideas that went nowhere. Other times, they broke the case wide open. I didn’t know which this would be and didn’t want to have egg on my face with Winston if it turned out to go a different way than I wanted, especially since I’d had so much resistance from him about my involvement in Barbara’s case early on.
“I can’t tell you much about her other than her name. I traced it from the license plate of her car. I’m sitting outside her place right now. Her lights went out about an hour ago. I’m also tagging all her social media accounts. I’ll send you a full workup in a day or so.”
“Does she have a boyfriend, roommates, or a husband?”
“She appears to live by herself. I’ll know more about her tomorrow. I just thought I’d figure out exactly what you’re looking for.”
That was Winston’s way of asking a question without asking the question. He knew I was holding something back and was trying to wheedle it out of me.
“She’s been trying to embarrass me in the courtroom,” I finally said.
“How?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t expected him to dig in, but I had to give him something so he didn’t think he was chasing his tail. “There were multiple times today where she made comments to me.”
“That’s not unusual. I sometimes make comments to people I don’t know, strangers I sit by at the movies, or something like that.”
“Judge Harris was paying close attention. He didn’t seem to care that she was talking, but he was about to come down on me hard if I talked back. He was waiting for me to make a misstep.” I suddenly realized I might be coming off as paranoid. “Kinsey was trying to get me riled up. She was trying to make me angry. She was trying to provoke an outburst.”
“Think she was trying to get you kicked out?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll see what I can figure out about her. What’s the priority on this?”
I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Winston was fully on board.
“Make it top priority.”
“Will do.”
53
My alarm rang at 7:45 AM. I rolled out of bed and immediately got into the shower, standing under the hot water, hoping it would wake me up enough to have my wits about me.
I was going into battle even though I wouldn’t be sitting at the table with the defense team.
It felt like today would be significant, but I struggled to articulate why.
I checked my phone for messages, but there were none. I checked my email as well and found the same. I even checked the news to see if there might have been some sort of update published on either Barbara’s or Vince’s case, but there wasn’t anything about either one.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be a very significant day.
I reminded myself to ask Stephanie about that late-night call if I got the chance. I’d tried texting and even placing a call but had never gotten a response. This would have been a red flag for me with Barbara, but Stephanie was more than capable of taking care of herself.
Twenty-five minutes later, I parked in my office parking lot. I went inside and grabbed a can of Coke, intending to drink it on my walk over to the courthouse, when I ran into my partner Veronica.
“How’s everything going?” she asked.
“About as well as can be expected.”
“It must be difficult for you to not be sitting up there with the rest of the attorneys.”
“It is, and it isn’t.” In brief terms, I told her about my interactions with Kinsey Whittington the day before.
“That’s weird,” Veronica said. “Be careful around that woman.”
“That’s the plan.”
Actually, my plan was to not push back on Kinsey’s attempt to sit by me, assuming she showed. She’d have run and never looked back if she had even an inkling of what I was planning.
I was onto her.
54
This time as I walked up the courthouse steps, I looked around for Kinsey and found her on a bench as if she’d been waiting for me.
She must have spotted me because she stood and headed my way. Apparently, she hadn’t yet picked up on how my private investigator was following her.
I paused and waited. “Right on time.”
I gave her a big smile.
“Care to tell me if my sources are correct and that Barbara is pregnant?” she asked.
I chuckled as I walked into the courthouse, letting her pepper me with questions as we walked inside, went through security, and took the same seats we’d used the day before.
“Aren’t you going to answer my questions?” Kinsey finally asked.
I gave her what I hoped was a warm and inviting smile. “I invited you to dinner last night. You could’ve come and asked all your questions then.”
“I was busy. How about tonight?”
“Does 7:00 PM work?”
“It’s a date.”
It wasn’t long before the courtroom was packed. We had to wait until five past the hour before Judge Harris finally walked into the room, and the bailiff told us all to rise.
I wasn’t surprised.
The man had probably made us all wait just to spite me. I’d been racking my brain, trying to figure out what I’d ever done to him, but I’d come up with nothing.
After the judge handled several preliminary matters, Keith Williams cross-examined Stephanie Gray.
“Detective Gray, thank you for being here today,” Williams said after he’d taken his place at the lectern, and she was back at the witness stand. “I have a few questions for you about your previous testimony.” Williams set his binder down as if to emphasize a point.
He stared at Stephanie, and she stared back at him. It went on a little longer before he finally cleared his throat. “On the day you responded to Mitch Turner’s call to come to Thomas Guyton’s place, what other case were you working?”
“Objection,” Frank Ward was on his feet like he’d been waiting for the question. “This is not relevant.”
“Oh, but it is, Your Honor,” Keith said. “It’s actually very relevant.”
“Can you please explain?” the judge asked.
“The case Stephanie was working on when she got a call from Mitch Turner has to do with a relation of the victim.”
“Please approach,” Judge Harris said, covering his microphone as he listened to the attorneys haggle. I carefully observed Stephanie, wondering how she’d respond if allowed to answer the question.
“The witness will please answer the question,” Judge Harris said several moments later after the attorneys returned to their positions.
I was glad Keith had prevailed over Frank’s objection. I’d expected it to go the other way.
“I was working on the Marc Guyton case.”
“How did you come to work on the Marc Guyton case?”
“I received a tip from Mitch Turner.”
“A tip. Hmm. Was it a tip, or was it more than that?”
Stephanie grimaced and stared at me. I gave a small shrug as if to say, what did you expect?
“Mr. Turner also provided me with considerable evidence against Marc Guyton when he gave me the tip.”
“What was Marc Guyton into?”
Frank was on his feet again. “Your Honor, I renew my objection to this entire line of questioning. I don’t see how it’s relevant.”
“I think the relevancy will become quite obvious the further we get into the questioning,” Williams said.
“Overruled.”
“Marc Guyton was a drug distributor.”
“Meaning he was somebody who was bringing drugs into the country and then distributing them to lower-level dealers?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“How did Mr. Turner come by this information?”
“He brought me a witness who was actually a defendant in another murder trial at the time. She was willing to turn state’s evidence against Marc Guyton.”
“How did that work out?”
“Marc Guyton was convicted a month ago. He has been sentenced to several life sentences without the possibility of parole.”
“Are you aware of a relationship between Marc Guyton and Thomas Guyton?”
Stephanie nodded. “They’re cousins.”
“Don’t you find it curious that Thomas Guyton was killed the same day Marc Guyton was arrested?”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Frank stood. “Calls for speculation.”
“Your Honor, we’ll introduce evidence that will connect the two through more than just a shared ancestor.”
“Overruled, but please proceed with caution, Counselor.”
Keith Williams nodded and stared at Stephanie.
“Yes, but it was merely a coincidence.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
“What did Thomas Guyton do for work?”
Stephanie hesitated. “He, too, was a drug dealer.”
I froze, feeling bad for her.
She’d just made a serious mistake.
Keith smiled briefly as he moved in for the kill. “Were you investigating Thomas Guyton at the time of his death?”
Stephanie didn’t answer.
“Detective?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“Human trafficking.”
“But not for drugs?”
“No. Not at that time.”
“So he was a trafficker and a drug dealer?”
“Yes, among other things.”
“Your first answer wasn’t entirely accurate then, correct?”
“I neglected to think of the trafficking. It was small potatoes next to the drug dealing.” She paused. “He was just starting to get into that, we think. All we had was one story brought to us by somebody who’d escaped. He’d been connected to somebody else. It wasn’t much to go on. I have a hard time describing it as his main livelihood.”
But the damage was done.
Human trafficking was not small potatoes.
Keith had successfully impeached Stephanie with information he’d gotten from me.
And I finally knew why she’d been investigating Thomas. I should have felt a thrill of satisfaction about the successful play, but I didn’t.
“Did Thomas work for Marc Guyton?”
Stephanie shook her head. “The best we can figure out is that Marc Guyton and Thomas Guyton were competitors.”
Frank hesitated as if he were about to make another objection, but he must have realized this was small compared to what had come before.
“Isn’t it a little strange that one was arrested and the other killed within just a few hours of each other?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“How did they come to be competitors if they’re cousins?”
“Our investigation showed that their fathers, who are brothers, were the sons of Peter Guyton. It appears Peter Guyton was a local drug lord four decades ago. It doesn’t appear he was ever investigated or arrested.”
“So the implication is that this was a family business that split into competing businesses?”
“Objection,” Frank said, jumping to his feet. “Calls for speculation.”
“This is a common thing that happens in family-run businesses,” Keith said. “Why should the black market be any different?”
Judge Harris frowned. “Sustained. You’re leaning too much into speculation. If you have evidence this is what happened, you’re welcome to present it, or if this witness has testimony that supports this conclusion, I suggest you be more direct in your questions.”
“Sure thing, Your Honor.” Keith Williams looked at Stephanie. “Did you ever find evidence these two businesses were related?”
“No, we didn’t. It’s not like they’re registered with the Secretary of State.”
“Did you make any assumptions—”
“Objection! Counselor is once again asking for speculation.”
“Investigators make assumptions all the time. Those assumptions can be useful in understanding why law enforcement proceeded with the investigation in the way they did.”
“Sustained.”
“Isn’t it far more likely Thomas Guyton would have been killed by Marc Guyton, who was a business competitor, rather than his girlfriend?”
“Objection! Do I even need to explain why?” Frank was basically foaming at the mouth and was all but shaking his fist in Keith Williams’ direction.
“Your Honor,” Keith said disdainfully. “I should be allowed to ask the detective why they didn’t focus more on Marc Guyton when there was clearly a substantial motive here that law enforcement ignored.”
“Sustained,” Judge Harris said at last. “I’ll let you ask why they didn’t focus on Marc Guyton, but you’ll need to rephrase your question.”
“Why didn’t you focus on Marc Guyton, considering everything we’ve just talked about?”
“Who says we didn’t? We investigated him, along with all other possible suspects. It’s a strange coincidence that one was arrested and the other killed on the same day. I’ll grant you that. Statistically speaking, it’s far more likely he’d be killed by his girlfriend. People who get murdered are frequently killed by significant others or family members. That’s Barbara.”
Keith Williams nodded as if this was the answer he’d expected. It probably was. He hesitated as he turned a page in his binder and then focused his attention back on Detective Gray.
“As we’ve already established, Marc Guyton was a family member, correct?”
Stephanie’s eyes bulged. She’d walked right into it. I had to hand it to Keith. He’d done a solid job playing that one out.
“Yes.”
“Is there any way to tell, Ms. Gray, if a key different from the one owned by the victim was ever inserted into the lock of his apartment door?”
“No, there’s not.”
“Is there any way to tell if anybody else was in that room other than Barbara before the police arrived?”
“Not for sure, but we looked for evidence and didn’t find anything to indicate that somebody else had been there.”
“The primary evidence you have against my client is her prints on the doorknob, correct?”
“Yes, and the blood all over her clothes and body. And don’t forget the pistol beside Thomas Guyton’s body.”
“Were Barbara’s fingerprints found on that pistol?”
Stephanie hesitated. “No.”
Keith Williams stared at Stephanie. “Really?” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t you expect to find her fingerprints on the murder weapon, especially if you found her fingerprints on the door?”
“Not necessarily. Barbara probably killed him in her anger and then wiped down the pistol. She likely had the presence of mind to clean off the gun. She then concocted her story, figuring it wouldn’t be a problem if her fingerprints were anywhere else. Little did she know that the last time she’d opened the door, she’d completely covered the doorknob with her hand.”
“But this is speculation, correct? Did you find evidence she’d wiped down the gun?”
“No.”
“Were her hands covered in blood?”
“Yes, but she’d also washed most of it off her palms.”
“Did you find blood on the pistol?”
“No.”
“So no blood at all from the victim was found on the weapon, correct?”
“None.”
I thought Keith was playing this point up too much. It was possible Barbara could have pulled the trigger, wiped down the gun, and then placed it in a position where it was out of the way before she attempted to resuscitate Thomas Guyton.
But Keith apparently felt he’d made a good point.
“Did you consider the possibility Thomas opened the door and let his killer in?”
Stephanie hesitated. “Yes.”
“In that scenario, the killer could have worn gloves inside, and then he could have left without touching the outside part of the doorknob, leaving Barbara’s prints on the outside in place, correct?”
