Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Victoria watched over Aly, who’d kept her mind busy doing crossword puzzles someone had thoughtfully procured to help pass the time.
Since he’d left three hours ago, she hadn’t seen Kyle.
His brothers, Deke and Jack, had remained with them in the holding room, with another agent stationed outside the door.
The only sounds came from the men as they responded to something in their earpieces, and the classic black-and-white government-issue clock on the wall ticking away.
There was something ominous about the clock’s incessant ticking.
It reminded her of a death nell. She had to stop thinking that way.
Aly would be safe. She’d be safe. As long as they remained sequestered in this hidden tomb.
With all the agents and U.S. Marshals guarding them, she should have felt more at ease.
It was Kyle’s absence that made her edgy, like the floor was about to drop out beneath her feet.
Deke clicked the microphone clipped to his jacket sleeve.
“Copy that. I’ll tell her.” He pulled out a chair and sat.
“Aly, your mother’s fine. Nobody’s come to the house to talk to her about you or where you are.
But we did find two listening devices. That’s probably how they knew what town the safehouse was in. ”
Aly breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“And we stationed two agents outside her house.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a shaky smile.
“The deputy marshal who was shot?” Victoria looked from Deke to Jack. “Have you heard anything yet?”
“He’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “He said he owes you a scarf.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.” Part of her, the part that was still somewhat in shock, couldn’t believe someone had actually been shooting at them. It was all too surreal. Like a bad movie playing out before her eyes.
The door opened. Kyle stood there, tension on his handsome face. “It’s time.”
Aly took in shaky breaths, her brown eyes liquid pools of fear. Victoria placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It will all be over soon. This is what you’ve been waiting for, what you’ve worked so hard for. Remember what I told you.”
She nodded and stood. “I will.”
As Aly headed to the door, Victoria’s insides churned. Today was about Aly, but part of her felt as if this was her battle, one she’d been avoiding for a long time.
“You can watch the trial from here.” Kyle turned on the wall monitor. “You can listen, but they can’t hear anything you say.”
The camera was aimed at the corner of the room near the judge’s bench and the witness box. She could just make out the edge of a red carpet with an elaborate gold design. He turned up the volume, and the low hum of voices came through the speaker.
“Ready?” he said to Aly.
“Ready,” she answered.
Kyle rested a reassuring hand on Aly’s shoulder.
“You’ve already been called to the stand, so when we walk in, go directly to the witness chair, just as we did in rehearsal.
You’ll do great. I know you will.” She nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.” He met Victoria’s gaze.
“I’m leaving a Federal Protective Service officer outside this door. I’ll come back for you.”
Then he was gone. The door closed, leaving her alone with her memories…and her fears. Ten years ago, he hadn’t come back for her. Although he’d never said he would.
Five minutes later, a recessed door in the dark brown wood paneling next to the witness box opened. She’d been told this was the private entry normally used for prisoners and high-risk witnesses so they didn’t have to walk through the public hallways.
Kyle appeared first, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the courtroom.
The intensity on his face was unnerving.
His gaze was penetrating, vicious, even.
Gone was the man who had, only moments ago, showed genuine compassion for a woman who was about to face the biggest fear of her life.
This was a man she didn’t know, had never known— the cold, hardened professional.
The federal agent. Yet both personas were facets of his complex personality, and right now it was the federal agent in him that was focused on protecting a vulnerable witness with his very life.
Still searching the room, he moved aside and opened the door wider.
Aly stepped into the courtroom and froze like a statue. Her eyes were big and still fear-filled. Even the monitor didn’t miss the slight tremble of her lips.
“Oh no,” Victoria whispered. This wasn’t a strong beginning to what would surely be a brutal cross-examination from defense counsel, which was precisely why she wanted to be in the courtroom with her client.
Kyle guided Aly to the witness box, then returned to a position against the wall next to the door they’d entered from. His ever-intense gaze never stopped sweeping the room.
The bailiff approached the witness box and placed a bible on the rail. “Place your left hand on the bible and raise your right hand.” Aly did as she had rehearsed. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.” Her voice wavered slightly, and her Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Hang in there. She hoped Aly could hear her silent prayer.
Victoria couldn’t see the judge but heard him say, “You may be seated.”
Aly sat, then shifted in the chair, as if she couldn’t find a comfortable position.
Victoria knew the signs. Aly was nervous, not at all like she’d been when they’d rehearsed this with AUSA Washington.
The reason was obvious. While Victoria couldn’t see him, Aly’s husband, Boris Kolbayev, was there, sitting at the defense’s table, staring directly at her.
Victoria understood how difficult this was for her.
“Look straight ahead,” Victoria said out loud. The prosecution’s table was directly in front of the witness stand. Aly’s eyes darted to the right, where her husband was seated with his attorney. “No. Don’t look at him.”
Except for the moment when AUSA Washington asked her to identify her husband, Victoria had warned Aly not to look directly at Boris. This had been a suggestion to minimize eye contact, something that might be Aly’s undoing. Judging from her demeanor, that emotional string was already unraveling.
“Good morning.” Only AUSA Washington’s back and one shoulder were visible on the monitor, but Victoria easily recognized his voice. “Please state your name for the record.”
“Alyona Kolbayev,” she answered.
“Do you recognize the defendant, Boris Kolbayev?” Washington asked.
“I do.” Again, her eyes darted to the defendant’s table.
“And what is your affiliation with Boris Kolbayev?”
“He’s my husband.” This time, she didn’t look at Boris but stared straight ahead at AUSA Washington.
“Good girl.” A lump formed in Victoria’s throat.
The opportunity to face Yuri the way Aly was facing Boris had never presented itself.
Now, sitting here watching Aly, she questioned whether she would have had the guts to testify so courageously against her own husband.
Like Aly, she needed closure. Unlike Aly, she didn’t know how to get it.
For the next few minutes, AUSA Washington asked Aly basic questions, establishing how long she and Boris had been married and that they’d lived together for eight years. The next questions would be difficult enough. It was the cross-examination Victoria worried about most.
“Do you recall where you were the night of October 25 last year?” the AUSA asked. “Specifically, between the hours of six p.m. and eleven p.m.?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I was at home.”
“Was your husband, Boris Kolbayev, there with you?”
She licked her lips. “No.”
“And how do you remember where you were on this specific date, given that it was nearly a year ago?”
“Um.” She flicked her eyes to where Boris sat.
Victoria caught the hardening of Kyle’s jaw as he, too, looked at the defendant’s table. While she couldn’t see him, she knew Boris was doing something to unnerve Aly. Victoria was sure of it.
Don’t look at him!
“Mrs. Kolbayev? Why do you remember where you and Boris were that particular night?”
“Because the next morning, Boris came home with blood on his shirt. He-he, uh, told me that if anyone asked, I should say he was home with me all night.”
Good girl. Victoria breathed a sigh of relief. But now Boris’s attorney would have his chance.
“Did you discuss the blood on his shirt?”
“Yes. I was worried he was hurt, so I asked him about it.”
“And what did he say?”
Aly bit her lower lip. “He told me to shut up and forget I ever saw it.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No.”
“Thank you. No further questions.”
Another man she presumed was Boris’s attorney, Mikhail Lazovsky, approached the witness stand, standing closer to Aly than Greg Washington had. Even Lazovsky was trying to intimidate Aly.
Victoria clasped her hands together tightly, worrying for her client.
“Mrs. Kolbayev,” Lazovsky said in a too-pleasant tone that grated on Victoria’s nerves.
He waved a document in front of Aly’s face.
“Exhibit C. This is a document signed by you, in which you state that on the night of October 25 last year, your husband was with you all night and was there in bed when you woke up the next morning.” He set the document in front of Aly and pointed.
“Is that your handwritten statement?” She nodded jerkily. “Please answer yes or no.”
“Y-yes.”
“And is that your signature at the bottom of this document?” Again, she nodded. “Yes or no, Mrs. Kolbayev?”
She swallowed and choked out, “Yes.”
Victoria could practically hear the smile on Lazovsky’s face. “Please read the sentences I’ve highlighted in yellow.”
Aly picked up the piece of paper. “On the night of October 25 of last year, my husband, Boris Kolbayev, and I were at home all night. When I woke up the next morning, he was still asleep in bed.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kolbayev.” He placed another document in front of her. “Exhibit D is another signed statement taken by the FBI from you three months ago, in which you state that your husband was not at home that night and that he came home the next morning.”
Lazovsky shook his head and picked up both documents, holding them up for the jury.
This time, Victoria could clearly see his face, scrunched up to exhibit phony confusion.
The man was a good actor and playing his role like an Academy Award-winner.
But Aly and the AUSA had rehearsed this line of questioning, so she should be okay.
“These two statements can’t both be true, can they? Can they, Mrs. Kolbayev?” He waited for her answer.
“N-no.”
“So, in at least one of these formal, signed and sworn statements you made to the FBI, you lied.” He paused for effect, turning to the jury first, then back to Aly.
“Isn’t that true, Mrs. Kolbayev?” Aly bit her lower lip.
“You are, in fact,” Lazovsky added, “a liar. Aren’t you?
Aren’t you, Mrs. Kolbeyev?” he repeated when she didn’t respond.
Victoria jumped to her feet. “No!”
“Objection, Your Honor,” AUSA Washington said. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“You may be correct,” Judge Whittaker said. “However, these are important questions. Overruled. The witness will answer the questions.”
Aly slumped in her seat. Tears streamed down her face.
The woman wouldn’t last much longer. Boris Kolbayev would go free, Aly’s life would be in jeopardy, and the government was about to lose their case.
On top of everything else that was going downhill fast, Brad Evans Psychology’s reputation was at stake.
So was hers. They’d all come too far to give up now.
She had to do something to help. Not sit on her ass, sequestered in this holding room. Aly had done so well when Victoria had been with her during rehearsal questioning. The woman had to see her in person.
Victoria grabbed her briefcase and tucked it under her arm. She put her hand on the doorknob. She’d made a deal—a promise to Kyle—that she’d stay out of the courtroom. It was a promise she couldn’t keep.
She flung open the door. The uniformed officer jerked in surprise. “I have to get to the courtroom. Now!”