Texas Tall - Janet Dailey Page 0,102

slammed. Nick Tomescu had been wearing gloves. But, surely, he would have left prints on the knife earlier. What was going on here?

“Sheriff,” Clay continued, “why do you suppose the knife had no prints on it? Could Mr. Tyler have taken the knife, wiped it clean, and put it in the victim’s hand after shooting him?”

“Objection!” Tori said. “Calls for conjecture.”

“Sustained,” the judge rumbled. “Please confine your questions to the facts, Mr. Drummond.”

“Very well, Your Honor.” Clay took a sip from the water bottle on the table. “Sheriff, did you find any evidence that the alleged crime scene might have been tampered with?”

“Yes.” Abner was sweating. “A contaminated blanket had been laid over the body, and a key eyewitness, Mr. Tyler’s daughter, had been removed from the scene before she could be questioned.”

Will swore silently. So that was their game. If they could convince the jury he had something to hide, the implication of guilt was bound to follow.

“Sheriff, what did the defendant tell you when you asked to speak to his daughter?”

“He said she hadn’t seen anything, and her mother had taken her home.”

“Was it true that the girl hadn’t seen anything?”

“No, that was a lie. I found out later that she’d witnessed the whole thing.” Abner wiped his forehead with a crumpled handkerchief. “Mr. Tyler said I could speak to her in the morning, with her mother present.”

“I take it that meant after the girl had gotten her story straight.”

“Objection!” Tori was on her feet.

“Sustained.” The judge scowled at Tori. “Sit down, Ms. Tyler. You’ll get your turn.”

There were more questions about the alleged crime scene and the evidence. Then it was Tori’s turn to cross-examine.

“Sheriff, who made the nine-one-one call that summoned you to the scene?”

“The defendant.”

“He has a name,” Tori said. “Please use it. How did Mr. Tyler behave toward you when you arrived? Was he cooperative?”

“He was fine.”

“When you arrived, did he appear to know the identity of the man who was shot?”

“By then, he knew it wasn’t the robber. But when we pulled the helmet off the body and saw those tattoos, Will—Mr. Tyler—seemed knocked for a loop, just like I was.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. No more questions for now.” As Abner stepped down, Tori took her seat and waited for Clay to call his next witness.

* * *

“The people call Miss Erin Tyler.”

At Mr. Drummond’s words, Erin stood. Her legs were shaking, and her mouth tasted like she’d sucked on a penny. For an instant she froze, her feet refusing to move. Then she felt the touch of Lauren’s hand on her back. “You can do this,” she whispered. “Go on.”

As Erin moved into the aisle and walked forward, she could feel every eye in the courtroom on her. Some were friendly, others curious. A few were even hostile. They all watched her as she took her seat in the witness-box and was sworn in by the bailiff.

. . . Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That’s what her parents had told her to do. She could only hope the truth would help her father.

She glanced around the courtroom, feeling small and out of place. In a room full of stern adults, how could the testimony of a twelve-year-old girl make any difference? Then she met her father’s blue eyes across the distance and remembered how much he loved and trusted her. The thought gave her courage.

Erin straightened in the chair as Clay Drummond stood and walked toward her. His mouth was smiling, but the expression in his eyes reminded her of a snake closing in on a baby bird. Her father had reminded her that Clay Drummond was a family friend and a nice man. But Erin knew better than to think he would be nice today. That was not his job.

“Do you know who I am, Erin?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions. There’s no need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, sir.”

“Very well. To start, what did your father do after he shot Mr. Tomescu?”

“He got back in the truck and hugged me. Then he got out again. He called my mother and the sheriff and laid a blanket over the dead man.”

“So he called your mother first, then the sheriff. He must have been in a big hurry to get you away from there. Did you hear the phone calls?”

“No, he made them outside the truck. But he’d told me what he was going to do.”

“Why do you think he covered