Free Silent Witness by Rebecca Forster Page B

His head jerked with the insult of the recorder.
    ''I do if I'm going to defend you,'' Josie answered sharply. Just as sharply she looked at him, sending a warning. No more games. They didn't have the time. ''Be truthful and it won't matter what's on this tape.''
    ''Fuck you, Jo,'' Archer whispered, as he leaned away from her.
    Josie was quick, punching at the small recorder and turning it off with one hand as she grabbed Archer's arm with the other. Her grip was tight and hard, her nails too short to dig in. She bent forward, close enough to smell the ocean on him and see that his arm was sunburned where he leaned it out the window during his surveillance. Any other day, these things would have endeared him to her. This wasn't any other day; this wasn't even Archer.
    ''Don't you ever say that to me,'' she hissed. ''And don't make me work so hard to help you. You can be angry because you don't like Hannah being at my place, you can be mad because I don't squeeze the toothpaste out right, but there is no you and me when it comes to this. There is no assumption of truth or innocence just because we sleep together.''
    Slowly Josie sank back in her chair, easing her grip just a bit.
    ''You're not thinking straight, and I'm not exactly top of my game so I will use whatever helps. If I say it's a tape recorder, then it is a tape recorder. I'll call the shots and I'll ask the questions. Any other attorney would do the same thing, but no one else will care as much as I do about finding out what in the hell is going on. Nobody.''
    The hand that had held Archer was shaking as she let go of him, her voice had trembled and that shamed her. If she was going to help Archer, or stand up to an ugly truth, then Josie had to be as tough as her talk.
    ''Do you want to start again or do you want me to walk?''
    The minutes ticked by. Archer didn't speak. A woman came in asking to use the bathroom. A boy dropped a stack of Beach Report newspapers on the floor with a thunk. She felt Archer's anger hot as the August sun and realized that it wasn't just the recorder that set him off it was his own impotence.
    The cop was now the perp.
    Finally, he picked up the recorder. It looked so insignificant in his big hand, so unworthy of the scrutiny he gave it. Josie heard the click. The recorder was back on the table. He spoke about Lexi's boy and the first words out of his mouth were cruel.
    ''Tim Wren was nothing to me, Jo.

CHAPTER 8

    Tim was thirteen when he died. He wasn't like his mother at all. He was big and Lexi was so small. He was dark. Lexi was light. She was so bright and smart and that kid was just broken. Nothing worked right on him. How could a woman like that have a kid like him?''
    Briefly Archer put the palm of his hand to his brow as if that would help him think. His fingers curled as if his head hurt. He breathed deep through his nose and then continued.
    ''Tim had a degenerative muscle disease. Some problems with his heart and his lungs but it was his mind that was really screwed up. That big, hulking kid who went through puberty early and fast, had the god damn mind of a five year old. I couldn't stand listening to him or watching him jerk around knowing there was no way to stop him. Every time he jerked or threw a tantrum or drooled it killed Lexi. Just destroyed her. I could see it on her face.''
    Archer's fist pounded the table lightly, underscoring his long ago frustration and aversion to Tim's disabilities – reactions a jury would only see as callous. His chair was close enough to the window so that he could rest his head against it when he tipped it back. Archer looked at the ceiling, at the business cards that people had tacked up there over the years but Josie knew the only thing he saw was Tim Wren.
    ''Why didn't you tell me about him?'' Josie asked quietly.
    ''I haven't told you about a lot of things.'' Archer lowered the chair to the floor, and slid his eyes toward Josie with a look she could only describe as pity that