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“The condition of the soft tissue indicated random blade-induced injuries of the chest with force. So, I see a pattern there, the killer’s signature on both women.”
“Thank you, Dr. Washburn. You may stand down.”
CHAPTER 85
YUKI HAD PREPARED Kathleen Wyatt for what would be an ordeal for anyone, and grueling for Kathleen.
Together they had talked across Kathleen’s kitchen table. Yuki had played the role of defense counsel and questioned Kathleen, gotten a little rough to show her what Gardner could do. As Kathleen teared up, Yuki had gripped her hand and said, “He may try to discredit you, but he has to be careful not to make the jury see him as a villain. Just tell the jury what you know. Answer Gardner’s questions and don’t go off script or call Lucas names. It’s okay to be mad or sad, just —”
“Don’t go crazy.”
“Because?”
“Because if I go off, it’ll hurt my credibility.”
“Exactly right. I’ll object if he leads or badgers you or misstates what you say. If you feel overwhelmed, tell the judge you need to take a break.”
They’d had that conversation two days ago.
Now, Yuki called her witness.
A security guard opened one of the courtroom’s rear doors and Kathleen came through and headed up the aisle.
She was wearing a slim gray pantsuit and had put some gel in her unruly hair. Nick held the gate open for her and she approached the witness box. It seemed to Yuki that Kathleen was moving very steadily and she wondered if she had taken something to calm her nerves. It would be good if she wasn’t manic, but things could go wrong if she came across as sedated.
The forty-six-year-old woman reached the base of the witness stand, put her hand on the Bible, and swore to tell the whole truth.
Yuki approached her and said, “Good morning, Ms. Wyatt. Was Tara your only child?”
“Yes, and a very good girl she was.”
“Are you married?”
“My husband died of cancer about five years ago.”
“Very sorry, Kathleen. Are you employed?”
“I teach yoga three days a week at a gym on Hyde and I do mailings for the SPCA.”
“Thank you. And now I want to take you through the recent events as regards your late daughter and granddaughter.”
Kathleen said, “Okay. Yes.”
“Good. Now thinking back over the last year of Tara’s life, did you have occasion to call the police?”
“Yes, several times. Three or four.”
“Why did you call them?”
“Once because Tara called me, screaming that Lucas was trying to kill her. Another time, I was washing my hands when she got out of the shower. I saw bruising on her shoulder and thigh. This big,” she said, putting out her hands, holding them five or six inches apart. “Another time, I saw bruises on Lorrie’s arm. Looked like fingerprints.”
Yuki pivoted toward the bar so that she could see Lucas, who as before, was hunched over the table, looking like a balled-up paper bag. His eyes appeared to be focused between his folded hands.
“Did the police come when you called them?”
“Yes. But each time, Tara said I was overreacting, and made up some story. Luke hadn’t been trying to kill her, he’d caught her as she was stumbling down the stairs. Another time she fell off her bike. And about the baby, that was, let me remember. Oh. Tara told the police that Lorrie had put her arm through the bars of her crib and struggled.”
“Did you have any private talks with Tara about abuse?”
“She denied it. Sometimes her eyes were bloodshot from crying, but still she denied it. She said Lucas was a good husband and showed me the new red Volvo he had bought her after Lorrie was born.”
“Kathleen, did you tell anyone else about your suspicion that Tara was being abused?”
“Yes. I told friends, and the second Tara went missing, I posted a message on Cindy Thomas’s crime blog at the Chronicle.”
“And how did that work out?”
“The paper deleted my post, telling me that it was an unproven accusation and using real names was libel.”
“When you wrote to the paper, what result were you hoping for?”
“I hoped that the police would arrest Lucas and find Tara and Lorrie.”
“After your post was taken down, did you go to the San Francisco Chronicle to see Cindy Thomas?”
“Yes. I couldn’t reach Tara, even though we always checked in on each other for about ten minutes. I called her every fifteen minutes and she still didn’t pick up or call me.”
“That was highly unusual?”
“It was the only time since she got married that we didn’t speak. More than three years.”
“Can you tell the jury what happened when you went to the Chronicle?”
“Cindy Thomas said she couldn’t publish my post accusing Luke since it was only my word against his. So, she called the police for me.”
“What happened then?”
“I spoke to police Sergeant Boxer.”
Yuki asked “And Tara? Did you hear from her?”
“No. Two days later, I learned that Lorrie, my angel, my dear little grandchild, was dead.”
Silence in the courtroom became sighs and murmurs. The judge slammed his gavel once and silence returned.
“I think it was four days later, Tara’s car floated up in the ocean. She was in it. Dead. Her neck had been slashed. Her death was pronounced a murder.”
“Kathleen, do you see the man you accused sitting in this courtroom?”
“Him,” she said, pointing her finger at Lucas Burke. “My son-in-law, Lucas Burke, my daughter’s husband, or should I say widower, my deceased granddaughter’s horrible, evil father.”
Yuki said, “Thank you for your testimony, Kathleen. Mr. Gardner, your witness.”
CHAPTER 86
KATHLEEN CLASPED HER HANDS on her lap as Newt Gardener stepped up to the lectern.
Gardner ran a palm over his shaven head, his handsome face looking thoughtful when he said, “Ms. Wyatt, we’re all very sorry about the loss of your daughter and your granddaughter. Terrible tragedies.”
“Thank you and yes, they are.”
She lifted her eyes
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