Innocent or Guilty?. A. Taylor M.
“Is this – Caleb Donovan – who you were messaging on that night, your boyfriend?”
“No – I – I’m not … with anyone,” Kevin says, stricken, almost speechless.
“Because we have a record of those messages and not only do they indicate that you and Mr Donovan know one another intimately, but they’re also time stamped.”
“Objection!” Ethan’s lawyer finally calls, getting to his feet. “The witness’s sexuality and relationship status has nothing to do with the trial, and these messages haven’t been entered into evidence.”
“I have them right here, Your Honor,” the prosecutor continues smoothly, unruffled. He picks up a file from where it’s been waiting this whole time, and walks it over to the judge’s bench. “And they clearly show that Mr Lawrence had finished … messaging with Mr Donovan, and logged off by 2:47 in the morning, indicating that if he had been online for around thirty minutes as he claims, then Mr Hall would have left the Lawrence home before two fifteen in the morning, leaving him plenty of time to meet the victim in the woods and kill him before getting home just before three in the morning.”
Kevin starts speaking rapidly, filling up the silence that has fallen over the courtroom, “I might not have been online for as long as thirty minutes though, like I said, it might’ve only been twenty minutes, maybe even less time, I’m not sure. We’d been smoking and I might have –”
The judge holds up his hand, interrupting Kevin’s hurried speech, indicating he should stop talking. Taking the file from the prosecutor, the judge peers down at both the prosecutor and the defense attorney with bored equilibrium, while flipping the file open, paging through the thin document, before finally looking up. “Your objection is overruled, Mr Castle,” he says to Ethan’s lawyer. “While I agree that the witness’s sexuality and relationship history has little to do with the proceedings here, these records clearly show that his online interaction with this Caleb Donovan had ended by 2:47am.”
“The defense hasn’t had the opportunity to examine this evidence, Your Honor, and we demand a recess in which to do so. Why didn’t the prosecution enter this into evidence before the trial?”
“It’s only just come to light, Your Honor,” the prosecutor says.
“That’s all well and good,” Castle interjects, “but if you have the conclusion of the message stream between Mr Donovan and Mr Lawrence, surely you also have proof of when the AIM conversation started between the two of them, and we can put this all to rest.”
“The defense raises a fair point, Mr Curtis,” the judge says, “I don’t see any indication here of when this conversation started or what time it was initiated. Do you have the start the of these messages?”
“I don’t believe we do,” Curtis says, staring up at the judge.
“Well, either you enter the AOL Instant Messenger conversation in its entirety into evidence, with time stamps for both the beginning and the end of the conversation between Mr Lawrence and Mr Donovan, or you do not enter it into evidence at all,” the judge says.
I watch Curtis shuffle in front of the judge and say something to him that no one watching can here.
“In that case,” the judge says, voice ricocheting around the courtroom, “I have to ask the jury to disregard this evidence, and to ask them not take it into consideration during any future deliberations.”
I turn to the jury, trying to decipher what they make of this, but it’s impossible. Just as it will almost certainly be impossible for them to ‘disregard’ anything they hear in court throughout this trial, whether the judge asks them to or not.
“That was great, Olivia,” Kat said, when the interview was over, and she’d finally turned the ‘record’ button off.
“Does that mean you’ll let me hang around for a little bit longer?” I asked, making my tone as light as possible. The interview had been draining: I hadn’t spoken about Ethan’s case, or the night of Tyler’s murder so much in such a long time, and the experience was enervating. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for several hours, but I wasn’t about to let Kat and Ray know that.
Kat gave me a small smile and glanced over at Ray. “You can hang around as long as you want, Olivia, I just think maybe you should give us a list of the people in town who won’t be so happy to see you,” she said, with an arch in her voice that let me know she was only half-joking.
“To be honest, it might be simpler and faster if I gave you a list with the people who would be happy to see me,” I shot back.
Lying over on the bed, Daniel gave a shout of laughter that made me jump. I’d practically forgotten he was there. “Typical Liv,” he said, smiling at me.
“You make enemies wherever you go, or something, Olivia?” Ray asked.
“It does sometimes feel like that, yeah,” I said. “But I can think of at least one person who might be happy to see me. Or if not happy, then at least, not outright hostile.”
“Who?” Ray asked, looking as skeptical as he sounded.
“Kevin Lawrence. He was my brother’s best friend. Still is.”
I’d been a little surprised to find Kevin still living in Twin Rivers, but there he was, languorous smile still in place as he slowly recognized me as I walked towards him in the outdoor equipment shop he was now working at. I knew he was still in contact with Ethan – that they wrote to each other, and that Kevin had visited him – but I hadn’t seen him since I left town.
“Man, this is wild,” he said as I approached him behind the counter, “I’d forgotten how similar you both look. It’s like looking at Ethan.”
“Thanks, Kevin. I always love it when people say I look like a man.”
“You know what I mean. You must get it all the time,” he said, laughing while rolling his eyes.
“Too much.”
“I’ll bet. So, how are you Olivia Hall?”
“Never better.”
He lifted one skeptical eyebrow and let out a puff of air, “Sure. Haven’t seen you back here in about nine years, but you’ve never been better. Are you here about the podcast?”
“Yeah, did Ethan tell you already?”
“Yeah, he asked if I’d get involved and I said yes. Thought the host would be getting in touch first though, not you.”
I explained that Kat and Ray were busy elsewhere, but that they’d left me to approach Kevin about consenting to an interview. Kevin nodded his head energetically, “Definitely. Anything to help Ethan out.”
“Can I ask you something?” I asked, lowering my voice and glancing around the shop as I did so. It was hardly busy, but there were a few customers in there, browsing the racks of climbing and camping gear, the rows of outdoor clothing.
“Sure.”
“Why did you stay? How did you stay? Everyone here believes my brother is guilty, how do you just live with that?”
Kevin shrugged, “It doesn’t come up as much as you probably think it does. It’s been a long time, Olivia. And this is my home. Why should I leave?”
I wasn’t sure it had been all that long, although I was willing to bet it had felt twice as long for Ethan. Being back in Twin Rivers was beginning to make time fold in on itself; all of a sudden ten years felt like nothing, felt like it could’ve been yesterday, but seeing familiar faces aged