Long Lost Winter, page 23
How the hell was this all unraveling?
“We’ll work on a subpoena,” Hayes continued. “We’ll work on forcing the matter from a legal standpoint, but it’ll take some time.”
“We’ll get a stay of proceedings,” Cal said, looking at the lawyer. “Until the appropriate evidence can be gathered.”
Mr. Vanderbilt didn’t look at Cal. He sat behind his desk, methodically tapping each finger across his notebook.
“You’ll get a stay,” Cal said again.
The lawyer’s eyes finally moved to Cal. “Self-defense is still a weak defense. Maybe the jury won’t go for the sentencing we were hoping for, but not guilty? I don’t see that going down.”
“You’re going to let him walk because you can get a smaller conviction?” Cal said incredulously.
The lawyer only looked at Cal with something like disapproval in his eyes. “Mr. Bennet, you know better than most how these things go.”
“He’s a fucking murderer,” Nate said. A barely leashed fury in his words that Landon felt himself.
The lawyer’s sigh was tired. Irritated. “And, ideally, the case we built will support that. I’ll get my cross-examination of Ben tomorrow. We’ll see if we can poke some holes in his story with said evidence. This is hardly a foregone conclusion. We shouldn’t overreact.”
The lawyer got to his feet. “I’m going to go back to my office, work on these new pieces of information. We’ve still got a lot of defense to go. I can rebuttal. If you can get this … Bowman Lake here to testify, I’ll call him up. If you can get his DNA in time, I’ll introduce it. But there’s no point staying this case, drawing it out. It’s clear Bennet killed Marie. We’re just down to arguing years doing time.”
Landon didn’t know if everyone was as stunned silent as he was, but he didn’t have words.
The lawyer thought years didn’t matter. That the best punishment they could get was good enough.
Which meant, Dad could be out … hell, next year if it all went down badly enough.
The lawyer left the room, and the detective started to follow him. Hayes hesitated at the door. “Look, it might feel wrong, but Vanderbilt’s right. I can’t believe a jury is going to swallow that load of horse shit.”
But Landon could. Because he’d swallowed it for fifteen years. So had Aly. And most of the damn town. Benjamin Bennet knew how to twist a situation to suit him.
Which meant … Landon wanted to reject the thought, but they had to be practical. Bo wasn’t coming back. The lawyer wasn’t staying the trial.
“I think we need to start planning for what happens if he gets out,” Landon said.
As much as he didn’t want to deal with this eventuality, it felt more and more possible. And they had to know how they were going to handle it. How they were going to fight Ben Bennet.
Together this time.
“Let’s not jump the gun,” Cal said. He was sitting in the chair, looking laser focused.
Like a different man. The man he’d been once upon a time. The slick, with-it lawyer who breezed into town with a few well-placed barbs and then out again.
It was the first time in his life Landon was glad to see it.
Cal rubbed a hand over his chin, then lifted his gaze to Sam. Moved it to Aly. “Did anyone notice when Dad was the most agitated on the stand? When the mask started to slip?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “When he talked about me.”
Cal nodded at Sam. “He couldn’t quite hide how much he hated you. And sure, it makes sense. Why wouldn’t he?”
“Good,” Sam muttered.
“He paled when Glenda spoke. He hates Sam. He hates Glenda, too, but he’s afraid of her. Something about a woman getting up there and undercutting him really gets under his skin.” Cal’s gaze moved to Aly, and Landon had to tense his muscles to keep from standing in front of her, protecting her from whatever this was.
“Vanderbilt gets a rebuttal. He can bring in witnesses, bring back witnesses. Fuck Bo and his DNA. We don’t need him.”
“You sure about that?”
Cal met Nate’s gaze. “No. Not sure. But I have an idea. They’re going to bring more witnesses to support what a great guy Dad was. They’ve no doubt found plenty. But when Vanderbilt gets his rebuttal, he brings Aly back up.”
“I wasn’t any help the first time,” Aly said miserably, and Landon took her hand in his.
“This time, we’ll have you talk about the nature of Ben’s relationship with Sandy.”
“But he didn’t kill Sandy,” Sam said quietly. “What’s that got to do with anything? Wheeler won’t let her talk about that if it doesn’t have to do with the case.”
“They’ll be bringing character witnesses. This is just a character witness. Because we know Dad liked to fight with Sandy. Aly saw it. Lived it. He liked moving her into that house even though his kids disapproved. Even if Wheeler blocks some of that, it’s not about the testimony itself, it’s about how mad Dad will be that you’ve spoken against him. You were supposed to be grateful he took you in, Aly, and now you’ll be speaking against him. It’ll piss him off.”
Landon hated the idea of Aly being the target of Ben’s rage, but Cal kept talking.
“And then we bring in Sam. Someone he’s hated since she was a teenager. She’ll testify about what Bo told her, what he hired her for, and what Glenda told us about his true parentage. It plants a seed in the jury’s head that maybe he’s a liar, or someone is, but more importantly, it pisses Dad off. High and mighty Samantha Price trying to undercut his story? No, he won’t like that. Maybe he cracks then.”
Landon watched as Cal clearly came up with the plan. He’d never doubted his brother was good at being a lawyer, but now he was seeing it firsthand, and after watching Cal seemingly fall apart for the past six months, this was somehow a small positive in this whole shit show.
Cal back to himself.
“If he doesn’t, we twist the knife,” Cal said firmly. “We end it with Glenda.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be up to testifying just because she finally … spoke,” Aly said gently, clearly with some regret.
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll have Jill read Glenda’s statements out loud if she can’t speak. None of this the jury reading handouts bullshit. Ben’s going to sit there and listen to a woman undercut every lie he’s told. Because a parade of women slowly proving his story false—whether the jury believes it or not—chips away at his control. And if he explodes, that’s all we need. It proves who he is. That’s all we need. To undercut his little act.”
Landon looked down at Aly. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking or feeling about this, until she lifted her gaze to his. Determined, chin raised.
If she was determined, Landon was all in.
He turned to his brother. “Will Vanderbilt go for it?”
Cal’s gaze was hard and sharp. “He fucking better.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Crawford County Courthouse
Aly hated having to take the stand again. She hated all those eyes on her. Hated recounting all those places she’d believed in Benjamin Bennet’s lies. For nearly thirty years, she’d believed him the good guy.
It made her feel guilty and sad and foolish, and like she was helping the defense that she couldn’t get up here like Sam and say she’d always known he was evil.
But Cal was sure this was necessary. So sure. So much like his old self the past few days of making this all happen while the defense brought up character witness after character witness to prove Ben was so great.
Aly would have testified a hundred times about how wrong she’d been, how wrong they all were, if it kept Cal being this strong, this sure, this determined. Not lost and crumbling.
The remaining days of the defense bringing up witnesses had been grueling, but Cal seemed energized. Cal and Sam both, actually. Aly felt like every day was an extra weight on her shoulders—and she would feel that way until it was over. She was pretty sure everyone else felt the same as she did. Even Nate.
But as they walked into the courthouse, knowing Mr. Vanderbilt would call all the women up to the stand today for his rebuttal, Aly tried to find some hope. Some of Cal’s cool, clear determination.
Cal gathered them all up prior to going inside the courtroom. But his message was for Aly, Sam, Glenda, and Jill.
“No matter what Dad does, or says, it doesn’t matter. You give your answers to that jury. Calm. Truthful. You do it just like we planned and practiced. This isn’t about what the lawyers let you say or don’t. It’s just about getting under his skin. And once you do, he’ll break. He won’t be able to help himself.”
Aly knew Landon wanted to ask what happened if he didn’t, but Landon resisted, no doubt because he also saw Cal back to his almost old self and wanted that to stay. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.
She had to hold on to Cal’s determination to see this through. They were all moving forward with some hope today. They could come up with contingency plans if needed after.
Cal had given them all directives. Aly’s was to paint a picture of the differences between Marie Bennet and Sandy McCoy and Ben’s relationship with each. Cal wasn’t expecting Ben to blow a gasket with the first witness, so it was just her job to lay out the truth. To make a lot of eye contact with Ben. To make sure he knew she had the upper hand, and she didn’t fall for his bullshit anymore. She saw through it.
Cal was certain that would start the domino fall to break him.
Aly wasn’t sure it would, but she did know that when Sandy had been alive, Ben had not cared for commentary on their relationship, and that when Sandy had been murdered, he had grieved. Bringing her up in this context would definitely have some effect.
So, when Aly took the stand again, she just thought of that. That contentious time with Sandy under the Bennet roof. How she hadn’t understood it, or liked it, but she had worked so hard to accept it. For him.
Because she’d loved him like a father, believed him and his goodness. But he’d never compromised for her—or his sons. He’d never listened or accepted or tried to do anything but get his own way and make anyone who stood in that way the enemy.
She could look back now, knowing all she’d learned in these past six months, and finally fully accept everything he’d done had been a horrible man’s way of manipulating a girl who’d been orphaned.
So she thought of the girl she’d been. The pawn Ben had made her. And she fought for that girl.
Cal wanted her to look at Ben as much if not more than the jury or the lawyer, so Aly did right now, and let her anger over what he’d done show.
“Ms. Wainwright, as previously established, you lived in the same household as the accused since you were twelve years old?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Which means you observed Mr. Bennet’s relationship with both Marie Bennet, and later, Sandy McCoy.”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us about Mr. Bennet’s relationship with Sandy McCoy?”
Mr. Wheeler tried to mount an objection, but Mr. Vanderbilt easily talked the judge into overruling it.
“It was a bit of a whirlwind,” Aly answered once directed to. “They hadn’t been dating more than a few months when Sandy was basically living with us at the Bennet house. Landon and I both asked Ben not to have her move in, since they were very … volatile together.”
“Can you explain what you mean by volatile?”
Aly looked at Ben. “They liked to fight. Sandy was nothing like Marie. She was unpredictable. Young and dramatic. She purposefully pushed Ben’s buttons, and he seemed to … enjoy that, for whatever reason.”
Ben was whispering furiously to his lawyer, clearly angry. Aly flicked a gaze to Cal, who wasn’t smiling, but she could tell he was pleased.
“Ben enjoyed that kind of friction. He didn’t become violent in retaliation to it. And he ignored each and every one of the family’s concerns or objections, because he was enjoying it.”
“Was that how you would characterize his marriage with Marie Bennet?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked.
“Not at all. Marie did everything she could to appease Ben. We—that is me and his biological children in the house—were constantly made aware of Ben’s moods, and instructed to do things that would steady them. Sandy did everything she could to agitate him, to exacerbate his moods. Marie did everything to soothe them.”
Mr. Vanderbilt asked her a few more questions about specific incidents. Aly could see Ben’s fury mount, but she realized that was because she’d been trained to see that. The way he held his jaw tight, the chin up. He could smile or pout or whatever, but Marie had given her the tools to see the fury under it. So they could avoid his outbursts.
Aly had never realized that until now. It was shocking and terrible to see all she’d been taught and done without realizing the real danger underneath it all.
Not that she could blame Marie. Marie had been trying to protect them.
Benjamin Bennet was the monster here.
Maybe as a child the right thing had been to appease him, but she wasn’t a defenseless girl any longer. It was time to fight the monster.
When Mr. Wheeler came to cross-examine her, she couldn’t focus on Marie or how sad it made her to know what victims they’d all been. She had to focus on Ben.
She wouldn’t be his victim anymore.
“Ms. Wainwright, you were a child when Marie Bennet died,” Mr. Wheeler said. “Correct?” he added when it looked like Mr. Vanderbilt was going to lodge an objection.
“I was fifteen years old,” Aly corrected him.
“Still awful young to understand the complexities of an adult relationship, don’t you think?”
“For the three years prior to her murder, I had been under the care of Marie and Benjamin Bennet after my father died. I was in that house with both women. Regardless of my age, I can tell you what I saw at both times.”
“And either time, did you ever see Benjamin Bennet physically harm, or threaten to physically harm, either woman?”
Aly wouldn’t wilt, even though the question made her want to. But Cal had said it wasn’t about proving anything.
It was about provoking Ben.
“No, I did not,” Aly said.
“No further questions then,” Wheeler said.
Aly glanced at Ben expecting something smug, or maybe more acting for the jury.
Instead, there was a sneer on his face.
*
When Sam was called to the stand again, she was ready. Eager, even. Piss Benjamin Bennet off? Well, it was the dream of a lifetime.
When she’d first testified, she’d done it with the weight of those fifteen years of trying to find the truth. She’d done it for her father—the man he’d been before the wrongful verdict had broken him. She’d done it for the girl she’d been and everything Ben’s lies had taken away from her. She had done it with years of regret that could never be fixed hanging off of her.
Today, she was taking the stand for Nate. For Cal, Landon, and Aly. For Marie Bennet, and everything she’d tried to do to save her sons. Today, this wasn’t about proving herself right.
It was about justice.
Because she happened to think Cal was right.
Benjamin Bennet flat out hated anyone proving him to be the bad guy, but more than that, he really hated it when it was a woman. Hated it enough that all those careful, polished manipulations that had kept him out of jail for over a decade, that had kept his family traumatized and under his thumb for longer, might just crumble.
God, she hoped.
Case in point, she watched as he tried to arrange his expression into something other than a sneer. He fidgeted in his seat. Straightened his shoulders, raised his chin.
But he couldn’t quite maintain his downcast feigned guilt when he looked at her. No, there was nothing but pure, unadulterated hate.
Because she’d never believed his mask, his fake persona. No, from the moment her father had been arrested, she had blamed Ben, because she had seen what he’d done to Nate. She’d known. And, she might have been the only one outside the Bennets who knew, and he might have been able to use that against a fifteen-year-old girl for all this time.
But not today.
Because she wasn’t alone anymore.
So she smiled at him. She still had a perfect memory of finding Nate, bruised and bloody, that night. She could see everything Benjamin Bennet had inflicted on him with fists.
Now Sam would try to return the favor with words.
“Can you tell us about your experience with the man named Bowman Lake who hired you for a job through your private investigation company, Ms. Price?”
Sam went through it all, in minute detail. Bo’s arrival to his departure. Vanderbilt brought things into evidence from Honor’s Edge that supported everything she said.
Including Bo’s notebook. Maybe he was the coward Nate had always thought. She couldn’t argue that point now.
But he’d left a few things behind, hadn’t he?
As Cal had said, Fuck Bo Lake.
They didn’t need his DNA. They had themselves.
Sam recounted the evening with Glenda. Everything Jill had read—and would read to the court if needed. Sam recounted Bo’s response to these things. His involvement with a private investigator connected to Mr. Wheeler. Mr. Wheeler had lodged some objections, and not everything would get through, but enough.
Enough.
“Ms. Price. For fifteen years you tried to convince anyone who would listen that Benjamin Bennet was the murderer of Marie Bennet. No one listened. Why should they listen now?”
“Because I was right. My father didn’t kill Marie. So who did? I think the answer is obvious.”
“She’s a liar!”
The judge immediately hit his gavel. Because it was Ben yelling.
Sam didn’t grin. She didn’t pump her fist in satisfaction. But she did look at Cal, gave him a little good-job nod. This entire line of questioning had been his idea.
