Page 72 of The Right to Remain

“So frightened of your husband that you left without your son.”

“Yes. I regret that.”

Jack sensed she was leaving something out, perhaps hiding the real reason Owen had thrown her out without Austen. But his safest strategy was to hew closely to her previous testimony. “Then our husband called you eleven hours later and told you to come home because your son was acting up and wanted his mother, correct?”

She seemed appreciative of Jack’s characterization of the call, his omission of the wordsissy.

“Yes.”

“Did that call make you anylessfearful of your husband, Ms. Pollard?”

“No. If anything, it made me more afraid.”

It was the answer Jack had wanted. “So, when you got in your car and decided to drive home, you knew the anger you’d witnessed that morning was still burning inside your husband, didn’t you?”

“Objection,” said Weller, rising.

“Overruled,” said the judge.

“I knew it was going to be—it could be a volatile situation.”

“Volatile and potentially dangerous, right?”

“Potentially.”

“In fact, you wereexpectinga confrontation with your husband, weren’t you, Ms. Pollard?”

The prosecutor objected but was again overruled.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” the witness said.

“Let’s be honest,” said Jack, tightening his figurative grip. “By the time the phone conversation with your husband ended—before you even got in your car and started to drive back home—you decided that you were not going to leave that house again without Austen.”

Another objection. “Overruled,” said the judge.

Helena was staring into the middle distance, silent.

“Ms. Pollard,” the judge said, “please answer the question.”

“It’s true,” she said softly. “I knew I was never, ever going to leave Austen behind again.” She took a deep breath, then looked at the judge. “But I didn’t kill my husband. I just didn’t.”

Jack knew when to back away, when not to delve into the gruesome details of a crime scene. He also knew when it was time to stop asking questions to which he didn’t know the answer. But there was more work to be done. He shifted gears—slightly.

“Do you know how to shoot a shotgun, Ms. Pollard?”

“I’ve shot one before.”

“You’re being modest, Ms. Pollard. You’re quite a good shot, aren’t you?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘good.’”

Jack went to his table and retrieved the next exhibit, which he shared with the prosecutor, the judge, and the witness.

“Your husband used to blog online about Second Amendment issues, did he not, Ms. Pollard?”

“Yes. He posted a few times a week.”

“I printed this post, which is publicly available,” said Jack. “It’s aphotograph of you holding a shotgun and wearing ear protection. You’re standing in front of a sign that says, ‘Miami Skeet Shooting.’ The caption reads: ‘A perfect twenty-five target hits! Woo-hoo! Helena is the next Diana Vizzi!’”