Yeager didn’t say a word. She sat there, stone-faced.
“I’m sorry,” Woloch said. “I didn’t hear your response. Maybe it’s because I just made a blanket statement. Let me rephrase it as a question. Did you, Ms. Yeager, let Kimi O’Keefe, alone and afraid, cry her little heart out for hours on end while her pitiful excuse for a parent sat on a bar stool getting blotto, hoping she could find anyone in a pair of pants who would come upstairs and bang the crap out of her?”
“Objection!” the prosecutor yelled. “Badgering the witness.”
“Sustained,” the judge responded quickly. “Mr. Woloch, I will let you pursue this line of questioning, but I expect you to clean up your act and treat this witness more civilly.”
“My apologies to the court,” Woloch said. “And to Ms. Yeager. Audrey, I know you. You are made up of all those sterling character traits I described to the jury, and while I can believe you never spoke to Ms. O’Keefe about her substandard parenting, I cannot imagine you let that little girl suffer without doing something—anything—to help. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
Meredith sat there, heart pounding, sweat coming out of every pore.
“Tell the jury what you did to help Kimi,” Woloch said.
“One night I rang the bell,” Yeager said. “I told her it was Audrey from next door. She knew me a little, and she opened the door. I went inside, and I calmed her down.”
“How did you do that?”
“Oh, I’d read her a book, or we’d sing songs, or sometimes we’d play with her Barbies. We had lots of things we liked to do.”
“So you visited Kimi more than once.”
“Yes.”
“More than five times?”
“Yes.”
“More than ten?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s not quibble about a number. Can we just say you went next door and kept Kimi company lots of times? Or should we say often?”
“Lots of times.”
“Did her mother know?”
“Nobody knew,” Audrey volunteered. “I told Kimi if she told anybody, they’d yell at me, and I would never be able to come back.”
“Did you ever do anything to harm Kimi?” Woloch asked gently.
“Oh, God, no,” Yeager said. “I…I loved her. I never had children. I couldn’t stand to watch how her mother treated her.” Her eyes welled up, and tears ran down both cheeks. “I was like a surrogate mommy. She called me Mama Audrey. She was…she was the best thing that ever happened to me, and that…that…”
Audrey Yeager was a lady, and whatever word was forming in her brain never came out of her mouth.
Woloch walked to the defense table and handed her a box of tissues. He waited until Audrey regained her composure. “Go on,” he said. “Please.”
Audrey took a deep breath. “Kimi was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she repeated, “and Rachael murdered her.”
“You may be right,” Woloch said. “It’s very possible that Rachael O’Keefe came home that night and murdered her daughter.”
He paused and let the thought sit with the jury.
“But!” he screamed, and Meredith knew what was coming next.
“But,” Woloch repeated softly, “Kimi was a love-starved child, willing—even eager—to open the door for anyone who heard her sobs and wanted to comfort her.”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
“Maybe there was another compassionate neighbor. Or a not-so-compassionate neighbor who was tired of the incessant crying. Or a mentally deranged pizza deliveryman. Or any one of a thousand random strangers who could have wandered into the building while the doorman ran off for a quick bathroom break. So it could have been her,” he said, pointing at Rachael and raising his voice again. “Or it could have been anybody. Am I right, Audrey?”
She shook her head.
“Speak up!”
“Yes, you’re right.”
He turned to the jury. “Yes, I’m right. It…could…have…been…anybody. And Kimi, desperate for attention, would have opened the door and let that person in.”
He walked slowly back to the defense table and pulled out his chair.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury—as Ms. Yeager, who is a legal assistant, can tell you—is what we call reasonable doubt. Very, very, very reasonable doubt,” he said, and sat down.
The jury was mesmerized.
Once again, the Warlock had cast his spell.
Chapter 28
Kylie and I rolled up Third Avenue, both of us lost in our own heads. I was writing soap opera scenarios, all ending with Cheryl dumping me for Matt Smith. Knowing Kylie, I figured she was probably plotting how she could use her superpowers to save her husband from self-destruction.