Part 57 (1/2)
”Yes.”
”Your blood was on her clothes because she was trying to clean up that scratch by dabbing it with her s.h.i.+rt?”
”Yes.”
Matt frowned. ”Then what's your explanation for why s.e.m.e.n matching yours was found on her thigh?”
”Objection!” Jordan leaped up, furious. ”Approach!”
The judge waved the attorneys closer. ”The s.e.m.e.n wasn't a match,” Jordan said angrily. ”The state's expert even deemed the results inconclusive.”
Matt scowled. ”She said this defendant was seven hundred forty thousand times more likely to have been the donor of the s.e.m.e.n than anyone else. Those are still pretty d.a.m.n good odds.”
”However,” the judge said, ”it's too prejudicial. The jury has the information about the s.e.m.e.n; they can do with it what they will. I'm sorry, Mr. Houlihan, but I'm not going to allow you to pursue that line of questioning.” She turned to the jury as the lawyers returned to their corners. ”You'll disregard that last question,” Judge Justice instructed, although Matt's words still hung in the air, as sharp and as precarious as a guillotine's blade.
”Mr. St. Bride,” Matt said, ”you find yourself in the woods with a quartet of teenage girls who are not only perhaps interested in having s.e.x ... but are naked naked ... yet you don't turn around and run as fast as humanly possible away from there?” ... yet you don't turn around and run as fast as humanly possible away from there?”
”I said I needed to get away, over and over.”
”Actually, you said you jumped over a fire hand in hand with one of them. And that you looked around closely enough to see there were things hanging from the trees.”
”I also said that Gillian Duncan was the one who came on to me me,” Jack said, trying very hard to keep his voice from rising.
”Was anyone else around when she attacked you?”
”No.”
”Where were the other girls?”
”I don't know.”
”How convenient. Was she still naked?”
Jack shook his head. ”She had gotten dressed.”
”And then she proceeded to throw herself at you?”
”Yes.”
Matt crossed his arms. ”This five-foot-four, one-hundred-ten-pound girl forcibly held you there?”
”I got away as quickly as I could. I said no, shoved her off me, and ran. Period.”
”So ... this is the second time in a s.p.a.ce of two years that a teenage girl has falsely accused you of s.e.xual a.s.sault?”
”That's correct.” Heat climbed the ladder of Jack's neck.
Matt raised his brows. ”Aren't you asking the jury to believe you're the unluckiest man on the face of this earth?”
Jack took a deep breath. ”I'm asking the jury to believe me.”
”Believe you,” Matt repeated. ”Believe ”Believe you. Huh. Mr. St. Bride, you heard the expert who testified that soil from your boots matches the soil in the clearing of the woods?” you. Huh. Mr. St. Bride, you heard the expert who testified that soil from your boots matches the soil in the clearing of the woods?”
”Yes, I did.”
”And you heard the DNA expert who showed that your blood was on Ms. Duncan's clothing and your skin was underneath her fingernails?”
”Yes.”
”You heard Ms. Duncan testify that you were with her that night?”
”Yes.”
”And you heard Ms. Abrams and Ms. O'Neill corroborate that?”
”Yes, I did.”
”You've seen numerous amounts of evidence that place you at the crime scene, isn't that right?”
”Yes.”
Matt tilted his head, questioning. ”Then how come when the police came to arrest you, the very first thing you did was lie about being there?”
Jack's mouth opened and closed, no words rising to the surface. ”I-I don't know,” he finally managed to say. ”It was an instinctive response.”
”Lying is an instinctive response for you?”
”That's not what I meant-”
”But,” Matt argued, ”it's what you said. Did you or did you not already lie once about your whereabouts that night?”
”Yes, I did,” Jack murmured.
The prosecutor turned and pinned him with his gaze. ”Then why should the jury believe you now?” now?”
”He's good,” Selena mused. ”He's really, really good.”
Jordan slammed the car door and stalked up the walk toward his house. ”If you're such a huge fan, then why don't you go sleep with Matt Houlihan tonight?”
The defense had rested and court had been dismissed. Closing arguments would begin the next morning, which meant Jordan had approximately seventeen hours to conjure sheer brilliance. Burning against his heart was the little packet Stars.h.i.+ne had given him for Jack's defense. He was going to sleep with it under his G.o.dd.a.m.n pillow; at this point, he'd take any help he could get.
He knew and the prosecutor knew-and even the jury knew-that Jordan had not conducted a defense of his client-he'd simply tried to make Gillian out to be something other than the little princess she made herself out to be. But a witch could be raped. A drug user could be raped. And if Jordan had been sitting on that jury, he would not have been inclined to believe anything Jack St. Bride had to say.
At the door, he tried to jam his key into the lock and couldn't manage to get it to fit. ”G.o.dd.a.m.n,” he said, wedging it in again. ”G.o.ddammit!” ”G.o.ddammit!”
A second attempt, and the key stuck fast. With a mighty wrench, Jordan managed to pull it free of the hole, then swore and hurled his entire key chain into the bushes off the porch. He stared after it, his whole body shaking.
”Jordan,” Selena said, touching his arm.