As Time Goes By (25 page)

J
onathan Cruise had a list of six doctors in Fort Lee that he wanted to interview. He had decided he would identify himself as a reporter for the
Washington Post
and discuss with them their general perceptions of how serious the problem of drug overdoses in northern New Jersey was.

The ones he was really interested in were Doctors Kent Adams and Scott Clifton. The fact that they had been partners with Dr. Ted Grant played on Jon's instincts as a reporter. There's something there was the insistent thought that ran through his mind.

He deliberately saw two of the other doctors first so that his story would be credible to Clifton and Adams.

The first one he saw was Dr. Mario Iovino, an obstetrician who stated that the tragedy was that babies whose mothers had been on crack were often badly damaged: “You can spot them immediately,” he said. “Instead of a healthy cry, they mew like cats when they're born. I've only had a few over the years, but my heart sinks when I hear that sound.”

Jon jotted down notes. “What is the age range of the mothers of those babies?” he asked.

“It runs the whole gamut, from fifteen to forty-five” was the answer.

Jon's next visit was with Dr. Neil Carpenter, a rheumatologist. “I get calls from patients claiming they fell or are having severe arthritis, or sprained something and the pain is terrible.”

“What do you do when you suspect or know that they're becoming too dependent on their pain-relieving drugs?”

“I recommend heating pads and Extra Strength Tylenol,” he said with a smile.

•  •  •

Jon's next appointment was with Dr. Scott Clifton at two thirty the following day. Dr. Kent Adams had agreed to a meeting, but had indicated his schedule was filled for the next two days.

B
ecause of Scott's constant sneering remarks about Betsy Grant, Lisa had not followed her instincts to attend the ongoing trial. She and Sarah Adams had already testified, and both lawyers had indicated that neither would be recalled as a witness. Under those circumstances, the judge had modified the sequestration order as to them, and had ruled that they could attend the court proceedings if they wished to do so.

The prosecutor didn't want them back. Both Sarah and she had been overwhelmingly supportive of Betsy when they were on the stand. There was nothing more that either of them could add to their testimony. Of course, Lisa had not been there when Sarah testified, but that night Scott had bitterly complained. “From what I heard on the news, you and Sarah were gushing about what a great person Betsy is. Why don't you just phone the Vatican and get her canonized?”

“She
will
be canonized after what's she's been through” had been Lisa's equally caustic response. When she met Betsy and Ted shortly after her marriage to Scott, she had been surprised and pleased to hear that Betsy, like herself, enjoyed doing Bikram yoga. They decided to attend sessions at a hot yoga studio in Westwood, which was about equidistant from Ridgewood and Alpine. They made it a point to meet for workouts once a week, and their friendship grew to where they had lunch together about three times a month.

Those lunches had ended when Betsy was indicted and Lisa was listed as a potential witness at the trial. Even so, Lisa had often thought of how Betsy would speak of Ted with so much tenderness. She missed having Betsy as a friend. As the inevitable break with Scott approached, she read every newspaper account and watched every television report about the trial. She particularly enjoyed Delaney Wright's coverage and her exchanges with the anchor.

The night before Betsy was scheduled to testify, Lisa got very little sleep. She got up early and was in the kitchen before Scott came down to breakfast.

He was still trying to maintain a front of being affectionate. “Lisa, once this trial is over, I want us to fly down to Santo Domingo for at least a long weekend. After that I bet we won't need to see a marriage counselor.” He added, “And let me tell you how terrific you always look, day and night.”

“Thank you. And Santo Domingo sounds like a great idea.” She tried to sound amicable as she noticed the increasingly dark circles under his eyes. He's getting even less sleep than I thought.

“And we've got to get around to putting this house on the market and finding a new one,” Scott continued. “I'm leaning toward that new condo complex they just built in Saddle River. Some members from the club have moved there, and I hear they really like it.”

Get me out of here, Lisa thought. I'm not good at putting up a false front.

When Scott left after giving her a seemingly affectionate kiss, she brushed off her lips and went upstairs to get dressed. As she was taking off her bathrobe, she looked in the mirror. I still look pretty damn good, she thought. She was glad she had cut her wheat-colored hair to a cap around her face. Her hazel eyes were her best feature. Her now shorter hair accentuated her high cheekbones. After showering she put on a lightweight gray jacket and matching slacks that had been her favorite outfit when she was working.

When the courtroom doors opened, she was able to get a seat a few aisles behind the defense table. When Betsy and her lawyers came in, Betsy glanced at the spectators, caught Lisa's eye, and gave her a quick smile. Obviously she was glad to see her.

Betsy was on the stand for hours.

Lisa's stunned reaction to the news about Betsy's baby mirrored the reaction of everyone in the courtroom. Her admission that Peter Benson was the father of her child had left everyone in shock.

When Betsy fainted as she stepped down from the stand, an utterly chagrined Lisa stayed in the courtroom when the judge ordered it cleared. “I'm a close friend,” she told the sheriff's officers firmly, as one put an oxygen mask over Betsy's face and the other checked her pulse.

When Betsy started to regain consciousness, Lisa was beside her, holding her hand and smoothing back her hair from her forehead. When Betsy came fully awake, tears began to trickle from her eyes. Lisa brushed them away. When the ambulance team arrived, Betsy adamantly refused to go to the hospital. “I want to go home,” she said. “Is my driver still here?”

Robert Maynard and his associates had been standing toward the back of the courtroom door. When an EMT informed them that Mrs. Grant wished to go home, they said they would escort her to her car.

Delaney was on the steps of the courthouse watching as she came out. Betsy had dark sunglasses on, but it was obvious that her face was tearstained. Delaney watched as the cameras took picture after picture of Betsy, then gasped as Betsy seemed to sag when the driver opened the car door.

It was a distinct relief to see Lisa Clifton get into the car with Betsy and put her arm around her as the driver pulled away from the curb.

Dr. Scott Clifton had made it very clear on the stand that he thought Betsy killed her husband. But it's obvious his wife doesn't agree with him, Delaney thought.

Suddenly depressed by the events of the day, she waited and then spotted Alvirah and Willy standing off to the side. Delaney waved and they hurried over to her. “Delaney, why don't you come and have dinner with us at the apartment tonight?”

“I'd love to,” Delaney said.

T
he warm smell of roast beef in the oven greeted Delaney as she entered Alvirah and Willy's apartment after her report on the Betsy Grant trial on the 6
P.M.
news. On the air Don Brown had asked her about the courtroom reaction when Betsy Grant fainted. She had chosen her words carefully before she answered. She said that there had been a universal gasp from the spectators and members of the jury. She described how the judge had sent the jury back to the jury room and cleared the courtroom.

“Do you think that the jury is more likely to be sympathetic to her?” Don had asked.

Delaney wanted to say, “They should be,” but caught herself from sounding so prejudiced. “They all looked very concerned when she collapsed. I noticed one juror start to cry.”

But when the broadcast was over and they were off the air, she told Don that Betsy Grant was passionate about her innocence, and there was no doubt the jurors had been sympathetic when she fainted. But she also thought that the prosecutor had dealt her a fatal blow when he asked her if she gave Peter Benson the “good news” that her husband was dead. “I mean that came right after she had admitted that she was in love with him, and that he was the father of her child. And I don't think Betsy Grant's lawyer has come up with a convincing explanation regarding the alarm being on when the caregiver arrived the morning the body was found.”

Delaney told Alvirah and Willy what she had said to Don.

“What do you think, Willy?” Delaney asked.

“I've said from the beginning that I think she'll be found guilty,” he said quietly.

Even though the roast beef was delicious, Delaney could only pick at it. “Alvirah, you know how much I love your roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, but I'll be honest. I can't eat much of anything. Every bit of my mind is screaming at me that Betsy Grant is innocent.”

Tears glistened in Delaney's eyes. “Alvirah, you and I have covered enough of these trials to know what it's like to see the defendants when they have been found guilty of murder or manslaughter and watch as a sheriff's officer handcuffs them and takes them away.”

She gave an apologetic smile. “It broke my heart when I heard Betsy Grant so passionately say how much she has missed her baby and how much she has ached for her for all these years. I can only wonder if I ever find my birth mother what it would be like to hear her say those words to me.”

Alvirah and Willy looked at each other. Then, as she reached and took Delaney's hand in hers, Alvirah said, “Delaney, you heard your birth mother say those words this afternoon. Betsy Grant is your mother and Peter Benson is your father.”

W
hen Alvirah gave her the stunning news that Betsy Grant was her mother and Peter Benson was her father, Delaney's emotions ran between euphoria and heartbreak. She was convinced that, at the very least, Betsy would be convicted of manslaughter. The overwhelming evidence against her, especially the revelation that Peter Benson was the father of her child, was going to carry more weight with the jury than Betsy's insistence that she would never have hurt her husband.

Her child, Delaney thought. Me.

When she was three years old she had cried because she did not look like anyone else in the family. Now, thinking about Peter Benson, she realized that she had his dark brown and wide-set eyes.

My father, my mother, she thought over and over again after a night of fitful sleep. She got up early, showered and dressed. When she touched up her makeup, she stared in the mirror. Peter Benson is my father, she thought, but my features are more like Betsy's.

She could not do more than swallow a cup of coffee as she thought, Why would anyone want to kill Dr. Grant? The obvious suspect would be Alan Grant. As he had testified, his expenses and debts were very high and he would inherit at least half of Dr. Grant's fifteen-million-dollar estate. And all of it if Betsy was convicted. He may very well have been told the alarm code by his father. Alan easily could have taken the key off the hook in the kitchen. But he did have a solid alibi for where he was the night of the murder.