The Night Swim(82)
“Her therapist is against it,” said Christine. “She worries that it could tip Kelly over the edge. She is emotionally fragile right now. But Dan—” She looked at her husband. “Dan wants blood.”
She fumbled in her pocket for a Kleenex and wiped her wet eyes. “He doesn’t understand that we might lose Kelly in the process.”
Dan put his arms around his wife and hugged her to his chest as she sobbed, their backs to the darkening sea. He looked over Christine’s head at Rachel, pleading for her to break the deadlock. She lowered her eyes and turned away, walking ahead along the beach to give them privacy.
“What’s your view, Rachel?” asked Dan, when, composed again, they’d caught up to her. “You’ve been in court every day. You’ve seen the evidence and heard the testimony. Do you think the jury will convict if Kelly doesn’t return to the stand?”
Rachel looked into the far distance, where she could see the distinctive shape of the Morrison’s Point jetty stretching into the water. Kelly’s parents huddled, together waiting expectantly for her answer. Rachel considered sugarcoating it. Then she remembered what Mitch Alkins had told her. They needed the truth. Raw and unvarnished.
“If Kelly doesn’t take the stand, Dale Quinn will argue that Kelly’s testimony should be struck from the record. All of it. Because she’s a material witness and he wasn’t able to cross-examine her properly. Without Kelly’s testimony, I don’t believe there’s enough evidence for the jury to convict.”
They both flinched at the brutal honesty of her words. Christine wrapped her arms around herself, chilled. “Kelly didn’t make it up. He raped her. Why does the burden have to be on Kelly to prove it? She’s a kid. She’s the one hurting.”
Rachel didn’t have an answer. There was no answer. She’d collected shells as they’d walked, and paused now to toss them into the ocean, one shell at a time. The crash of the surf muffled the soft splashes of the shells hitting the water.
“You think that Judge Shaw will go for that?” Dan asked. “Strike all of Kelly’s testimony from the record.”
“He won’t have much choice,” said Rachel. “He can’t allow her testimony to stand if Dale Quinn didn’t get a decent shot at cross-examining her.”
Dan and Christine stood with their arms around each other’s waists. Rachel knew that Mitch Alkins had said something similar, although perhaps less diplomatic, the previous night when he’d come to their house. Alkins had told Rachel that he’d been blunt with Kelly’s parents before he’d left their home. “If Kelly doesn’t testify then there’s a real chance that Scott Blair will walk,” he’d said.
Rachel hoped that Alkins was right, that hearing the same conclusion from her would carry more weight. After all, she didn’t have a vested interest in the outcome. It wasn’t her reputation as a prosecutor on the line. Plus, she knew the evidence inside and out; she was in court every day, listening to testimony, taking notes, reporting on the trial for the podcast.
They faced a terrible choice. Putting Kelly on the stand could destroy their daughter. Letting Scott Blair go free could destroy her even more. A gull cried as it flew over the beach, looking for a place to roost for the night.
“We can’t do this to Kelly.” Christine turned to face her husband.
“We have to. How can we let him get off? His name untarnished. His reputation intact. He needs to suffer. He deserves to be punished,” Dan shot back. “Let someone do to him in prison what he did to Kelly.”
Christine pummeled his torso softly with her palms, sobs wracking her body. “Every time Kelly talks about it, and I mean every single time, she relives that night. Over. And over. And over again. It’s eating into whatever is left of her spirit. We can’t make her do it. We are her parents. We have to think beyond getting justice. Or revenge. It’s our job to help her heal.”
“Testifying is what will help her heal. It will be painful at first, but it will be worth it. He’ll be punished and her name will be cleared. She’ll be vindicated,” said Dan, kicking a clump of seaweed across the sand until it flopped into the water.
“Kelly doesn’t need her name cleared. She didn’t do anything wrong. She isn’t—” Christine’s voice shook with anger.
Rachel didn’t hear the rest as she moved ahead to give them space to talk. It was clear to her they’d been having the same discussion for days. Going round and round in circles. They were running out of time. It was Saturday night. If Kelly was to testify on Monday morning, they’d need to spend all of Sunday getting her emotionally prepared. Perhaps even letting Mitch Alkins or his people prepare her for the cross-examination.
Dan strode past Rachel, walking off after the angry exchange with his wife. Rachel hung back, waiting for Christine, who was dabbing her eyes when she caught up to Rachel. Both women walked together in silence, deliberately lagging behind Dan, not even trying to catch up. He walked fast and disappeared around the next headland, out of their line of sight.
It was getting darker and visibility was becoming poor. They walked a little longer until they heard the groan of timber as the Morrison’s Point jetty swayed in the wind and tide farther along.
When they caught up with him, he was waiting, staring at the dark outline of the jetty as if afraid to get too close. “I didn’t realize that we’d come so far.” He gave a shiver. “Always hated this place.” He abruptly turned away and marched back toward the marina.