Star Witness by Mallory Kane Page B

with tears. “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I’m talking about hearing men beating my grandfather to death while I was three rooms away.”
    Harte’s gaze seemed to soften. “It’ll be even harder when you’re on the witness stand,” he said gently. “How many phones are there in the house?”
    “Besides the one in the living room, there’s one in Granddad’s study. Then there’s my cell phone, which was in my purse on the hall table, and Granddad’s, which I believe was in his pocket.” She pushed her chair back from the table and began pacing. Her path took her toward the front room where the rain was pounding the picture window. “And you don’t have to remind me that it will be harder. I know that.”
    Harte continued with his questioning. “Now, if you were frightened, sick and medicated, how can you possibly be sure the name you heard was Stamps?”
    “I know what I heard. He didn’t just say Stamps, he said Senator Stamps. And I heard the name Paul Guillame too and he’s Stamps’s political adviser.”
    “Again, Ms. Canto, you’ve admitted that you were medicated. In fact, you really can’t testify to what the men said, can you? They could have said William or DeYoung or a dozen other names, right? It might not have been a name at all. It could have been anything.”
    Dani spoke clearly and calmly. “I was there, and I know what I heard. I can’t tell you exactly what they said about Senator Stamps or Paul Guillame, but I am absolutely certain those names were spoken that night, along with the name Mr. Yeoman.” She glanced at him sidelong. “And don’t think for a minute that I don’t know who Paul Guillame is.”
    “Objection. Irrelevant.”
    “No, it’s not. Tell me, counselor, is it going to impact me that my attorney is related to one of the people whose name came up while my grandfather was being beaten to death?”
    Harte’s mouth thinned. “The D.A. has considered that and is not concerned. We’re marginally related at best. He’s like a third cousin.”
    “So Akers asked you about it.”
    “I’m your attorney. Don’t even suggest that I don’t have your best interests at heart. But please, by all means get all this hostility out before you actually go on the stand. And don’t forget that it’s not going to be me badgering you about what you heard. I’ll let you tell the jury what happened in your own words. It’s going to be Drury who’ll be hitting you with the tough questions. He’s a snake. Don’t let him upset you. Think about what you tell your own witnesses. They lose credibility if they let the opposing attorney get to them.”
    Dani tried to compose herself. Everything Harte said was true. But the renewed pain of her grandfather’s violent death, combined with the storm outside and the fact that she had to rely on Harte Delancey, her courtroom nemesis, was about to undo her. “I apologize,” she muttered.
    “Let’s get back to the question at hand. Isn’t it true that you’re not certain about the names you heard? That you’re merely desperate to find someone to blame for your grandfather’s death?”
    “That is not true. And of course I’m—” She stopped. Her breath caught in a sob. The tears she’d been trying to hold back stung her eyes. She blinked fiercely. She would not cry!
    “Okay, okay,” Harte said gently. He sat back. “Don’t worry about not being absolutely sure about Stamps and Guillame. As long as you’re positive about Yeoman.”
    She sniffed. “But I am sure—like ninety-nine percent. About Stamps and Guillame, I mean. I’m definitely a hundred percent about Yeoman. That guy said his name twice, or maybe three times.”
    “Okay. That’s good. When you’re certain, be sure the jury knows you’re certain. Now, go on. You said you heard violent noises.”
    She nodded. “They must have been hitting him. I heard him fall, and one of them said, ‘Do you understand Mr. Yeoman’s message?’ But