My Sister's Grave (Tracy Crosswhite, #1)(76)

“I can make an educated guess.”

“A guess?” Clark glanced at Meyers.

“I was superstitious. I always wore a red bandanna, turquoise bolo tie, and my black Stetson during competitions. I also wore a long suede coat.”

“I see. Was your sister superstitious?”

“Sarah was too good to be superstitious.”

“So we can make no such guesses about what she might have worn that day, can we?”

“Only that she preferred to look better than everyone else.”

Smiles creased several of the faces in the gallery.

“But she didn’t have a particular shirt she wore to each competition?”

Tracy said, “She wore Scully. It’s a particular brand. She liked the embroidering.”

“How many Scully shirts did she own?”

“I’d guess ten or so.”

“Ten,” Clark said. “And no particular boots or hat?”

“She had several pairs of boots and I recall half a dozen hats.”

Clark turned toward the jury box. Realizing it was empty and that he was without a jury to play to, he positioned himself near the railing separating the gallery. “So you have no basis to testify with any certainty as to what your sister wore on August 21, 1993, other than a guess after twenty years, or what you may have heard during this hearing, correct?”

“No. That’s not correct.”

Clark looked taken aback. Meyers’s chair squeaked as he rocked, looking on intently. The gallery had gone silent. Clark stepped toward the witness chair, no doubt debating what was every lawyer’s dilemma on cross-examination—whether or not to ask the next question and possibly open a Pandora’s box without any idea of what was inside, or to move on to a different subject. The problem for Clark, Tracy knew from her experience as a trial witness in homicide cases, was that he had opened the subject matter, and that meant that, if he didn’t ask the question, Dan would. Clark’s banter slowed, cautious. “You certainly don’t remember what she was wearing.”

“No. Not with certainty, I don’t.”

“And we’ve established she didn’t have any superstitious articles of clothing she wore.”

“She did not.”

“So what other possible means . . .” Clark suddenly stopped.

Tracy did not wait for Clark to decide if he was going to finish his question. “A photograph,” she said.

Clark flinched. “But surely not of that day.”

“Yes, of that day,” Tracy said evenly. “They took a Polaroid of the three top finishers. Sarah finished second.”

Clark cleared his throat. “And you just happen to have kept this photograph for twenty years?”

“Of course I kept it. It’s the last photograph ever taken of Sarah.”

Because Tracy had removed the photograph from her rugged cart the morning she had met with Calloway to look inside her blue Ford, the photograph had never been inventoried and had never become a part of the police file.

Clark looked to Meyers. “Your Honor, the State would request a meeting of counsel in chambers.”

“Denied. Are you finished with your voir dire?”

“Your Honor, the State objects. No such photograph was ever produced in this case. This is the first we have heard anything of it.”

“Mr. O’Leary?” Meyers asked.

Dan stood. “As far as I know, Your Honor, the State is correct. The photograph certainly did not belong to the defense, and the defense had no means to produce it even if such a request had been made. However, the State clearly had access to it through Detective Crosswhite.”

“The objection is overruled,” Meyers said. “Mr. O’Leary, you may continue your examination.”

Dan re-approached the lectern. “Detective Crosswhite, do you have that photograph with you today?”

Tracy reached into her briefcase and pulled out the framed photograph. The commotion from the gallery was enough for Judge Meyers to rap his gavel. After having the photograph marked and introduced into evidence, Dan asked Tracy to describe what Sarah was wearing in it and Tracy complied. Then Dan asked, “Can you describe the earrings and necklace your sister is wearing in that photograph?”

“The earrings are jade, teardrop shaped. The necklace is a silver strand.”

“Do you recognize these?” O’Leary handed her the jade earrings Rosa had recovered from Sarah’s grave.

“Yes. They’re the same earrings Sarah is wearing in the photograph.”

Dan retrieved the miniature, Colt-shaped pistol earrings introduced at House’s original trial. The gallery stirred. “And these,” he said, identifying them by their exhibit number. “Do you recognize these earrings?”

“Yes, those were also Sarah’s.”

“Was she wearing them the day she was abducted?”

Clark bolted from his seat. “Objection, Your Honor. The witness has testified she does not recall with certainty what her sister wore that day. The only thing this witness can testify to is whether they match the earrings in the photograph.”

“I’ll withdraw the question,” Dan said. “Detective Crosswhite, are these earrings the earrings your sister is wearing in the photograph?”