Page 105 of Protecting Christina

I turned to look at Will, whose eyes were nearly as large as mine. During the pre-trial, the police did not want Will involved as he was not authorized to go into the house. He was only supposed to knock on Simon’s door.

The judge considered the prosecutor’s request. “I’ll allow it. But again, stick to Mr. Nash’s statement to the police only.”

I wasn’t sure if the judge had read Will’s statement, but it was quite damning.

“Your honor,” the attorney pleaded, obviously having read Will’s statement, and wanting him as far away from the stand as possible. But the judge held up his hand.

“You opened the door, Mr. Freeman. Now, it’s up to you to close it.”

Simon pulled his attorney close to him and whispered something in his ear. The attorney shook his head and looked down at the desk. The frown on his face would have made me smile if I wasn’t worried about Will.

As Will was sworn in, his shoulders were relaxed and his face serene. He didn’t look half as nervous as I was. I wondered if it was just his way of dealing with stressful situations or if he really wasn’t worried.

The prosecutor stood and approached the bench. “Mr. Nash, you were inside of the house when Mr. Graff started the fire?”

“Objection. My client did not start the fire.”

“I’ll rephrase, your honor.” The prosecutor cleared his throat. “Mr. Nash, were you standing in front of Mr. Graff when the lantern hit the ground?”

“Yes.”

“Can you describe what happened?”

“Mr. Graff hit the lantern with his hip, knocking it to the ground and starting the fire.”

“Obj—”

The judge raised his hand. “You will have your chance to cross-examine the witness in a moment, Mr. Freeman.”

The attorney mumbled something under his breath but allowed the prosecutor to continue.

“What happened next?”

“Simon ran away from the fire and through the back door.”

“Knowing the women were underneath the wooden floors?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you where they were so you could get them out of the house?”

“No. But when I dropped down to the ground, I heard their screams.”

Someone gasped in the jury box, and I closed my eyes. It was horrifying to think how close Donna, Lynette, and Cheyanne had come to dying that day.

“Thank you, Mr. Nash. That is all.”

“Mr. Freeman, your witness.”

Simon’s attorney nearly knocked his chair to the crowd when he stood up. “Mr. Nash, please tell the jury, what is your badge number?”

“I am not a police officer.”

He raised his eyes mockingly. “Oh. So, you were inside my client’s house? Did he invite you in?”

“No. I—”

The attorney raised his hand. “Please only answer the question.”

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