Again, Ben surreptitiously checked the jury. This testimony directly contradicted what Andrea had told them. Who would they believe? “How did you get away?”
“Kirk came home. And thank goodness for it. No doubt in my mind—I’d be dead now if he hadn’t shown up. He pulled her off me and shoved her out the door. Even as he did it, though, she was screaming and cursing, scratching at him, pummeling him with her fists. She was out of her head. I remember as she left, Kirk said, ‘If she isn’t locked up soon, that woman’s going to kill someone.’ ”
“Your honor, I have to object.” LaBelle jumped to his feet. “That’s hearsay. Moreover, as much as we’re all enjoying the defendant’s little story, this nonsense is nothing but a blatant attempt to slander Andrea McNaughton.”
“Your honor,” Ben said, “she’s entitled to tell the jury what really happened.”
“Maybe so,” LaBelle said, “but she’s not entitled to push guilt off herself by implicating an innocent woman.”
“As I’ve said before and everyone in this courtroom knows, the defense is entitled to advance alternative theories of how the crime was committed.”
“There’s right, and there’s wrong,” LaBelle answered, his voice ringing through the courtroom. “And what they’re trying to do here is wrong. Andrea McNaughton is a victim. This is nothing but a sleazy attempt by the defendant to get herself off the hook by suggesting that Mrs. McNaughton is the killer.”
To the surprise of both attorneys, Keri spoke from the witness box. “Oh no, your honor. That’s not right. That isn’t it at all.”
Judge Cable peered down at her, pushing his bifocals a few notches down his nose. “Excuse me? What isn’t right?”
“What he’s saying,” Keri replied. “That I’m trying to blame Mrs. McNaughton for the murder.”
“You’re not?”
“No, I’m not. I’ll admit, I did that before. Not that I ever actually accused her, but I suggested the possibility. But I know she didn’t do it. And as much as she hates me, I don’t want her to suffer for a crime she didn’t commit. I know what that’s like, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
Judge Cable followed up. “And how is it you’re so certain she didn’t kill her husband?”
Keri swallowed, then looked directly at him. “Because I know who did. It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Andrea McNaughton.” She paused, and the suspended silence in the courtroom was deafening. “It was my brother. Kirk Dalcanton.”
45
THE JURY WAS NOT alone in having stunned expressions plastered across their faces. Everyone in the courtroom—spectators, witnesses, and workers alike—evinced equal surprise. Half the reporters in the press row leaped to their feet and headed toward the back, cell phones in hand, to phone in this latest development. The judge pounded his gavel furiously, trying to bring the courtroom back to some semblance of order.
“If I don’t have silence I’ll clear the courtroom!” he bellowed. A few moments later, Judge Cable peered down at the witness, his face a mixture of suspicion and concern. “Young lady, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I do, your honor. But it’s true. I couldn’t say so before, but now that Kirk’s gone, I have to be honest. I don’t want to go to prison for something I didn’t do, and I don’t want Andrea McNaughton to go to prison for something she didn’t do, either. It was Kirk, God bless his soul. Kirk did it.”
Ben returned to his position behind the podium to continue the examination. “Keri, perhaps you could step back a bit and explain to everyone exactly what happened. After Andrea McNaughton left your apartment. The night Joe was killed.”
“Joe showed up at my place about an hour after she left. About midnight? Apparently Andrea’d gone home and pretty much read him the riot act. Left him with no choice. I don’t think he wanted to break it off—not yet, anyway. He figured he had several more months of… using me… before he’d have to end it. But Andrea forced his hand. So he came over and told me in no uncertain terms that he was ending it. That it was over. That there would be no marriage. That I would never see him again.”
“And how did you take this news?”
“Not well, obviously. But my reaction was nothing compared to Kirk’s.”
“Please explain.”
“Kirk was still there, and he was a little high from that encounter with Mrs. McNaughton. Ever since he tossed her out of the place, he’d been badmouthing both of them, really working up a froth. You see—Kirk and I were very close. Always have been. And he was very protective of me. He considered it his job to take care of me. And one other thing you should understand—just as I looked forward to marrying Joe, as much as I saw it as my salvation—so did Kirk.”
“Had Kirk had any history of … emotional problems?”
“Oh yes. That’s why he was thrown out of high school. He’d been picked up by the cops a few times, back in Stroud, for vandalism and other minor offenses. I knew he needed help, but how could we afford that? We could barely afford to eat.” She drew in her breath. “He had a hyperparanoid feeling that everyone was out to get him—or me. And he had a lot of … sexual issues, too. I never understood if he was gay or bi or what exactly—and I don’t think he did, either. He was confused. Add in all our other stresses and you had a bad situation. Much as I loved Kirk—he was very sick. And when Joe waltzed in and told me it was all over—well, that was just the end. He snapped.”
“Did he attack Joe at your apartment?”
“He tried. We all struggled for a while. I imagine that’s when Joe got my skin under his fingernails. But Joe was bigger and stronger and a much better fighter. Joe pushed him away and made his exit.”
“What happened next?”
“Kirk had a total breakdown. I mean, I’d never seen him like that before in my life. He was screaming uncontrollably. ‘No one treats my sister like that! You turned my sister into a whore!’ Crazy stuff. Crazy. And then he looks at me, with the most horrible expression I’ve ever seen in my life, and he says, ‘Keri, I’m going to kill that bastard. I’m going to cut him up until there’s nothing left.’ ”
The emotional stoicism of her previous testimony had disappeared. Keri’s eyes were wide and alive. Her chest was heaving and her hands were trembling. “I tried to stop him, I really did. But there was nothing I could do. He put on a pair of gloves, then ran into the kitchen and grabbed one of my knives. The D.A. was right—it was my knife, and my chains, too. Kirk took them from my bedroom. I tried to block his way, but he was too strong for me, and, and—” Her voice cracked. “He left ranting about how he was going to kill that faithless son-of-a-bitch cop. How he was going to make him pay.”
“Did you call anyone?”
“No. I wish to God I had. But I didn’t want to get my brother in trouble. Even though he’d been convicted of only minor crimes, he had two on his record. You know Oklahoma law—if he’d been convicted again, he could get twenty years. And I didn’t really think he’d do anything. I thought he would cool off in a few minutes, or he wouldn’t find Joe, or even if he did, Joe would be too strong for him. But Kirk must’ve caught him by surprise and—and—”
She broke down, flinging her head into her lap. “Kirk wasn’t a bad person, he really wasn’t,” she said, sobbing. “He was just confused. So confused. But when I heard what had happened, when I heard how violent it was, how the corpse had been mutilated and ‘faithless’ had been written across his chest in blood, I knew it was Kirk. I knew it.”
Ben paused, giving everyone a breather. “When did you last see Kirk?”
“He never came back to our apartment after the murder. And after my first trial, he disappeared altogether—till he turned up on the roof of the Bank of Oklahoma Tower. I think he must’ve been riddled with guilt about what he’d done. And the fact that he’d gotten me in trouble probably only made it worse. It must’ve been tearing him apart.”