“You never discussed money or gifts at any time, or asked John Cronin for anything?”
A faint flush came to her cheeks. “Never!”
“But you were on friendly terms with him?”
“Yes. When a patient is that ill, the doctor-patient relationship changes. We discussed his business problems and his family problems.”
“But you had no reason to expect anything from him?”
“No.”
“He left that money to you because he had grown to respect you and trust you. Thank you, Dr. Taylor.” Penn turned to Gus Venable. “Your witness.”
As Penn returned to the defense table, Paige Taylor glanced toward the back of the courtroom. Jason was seated there, trying to look encouraging. Next to him was Honey. A stranger was sitting next to Honey in the seat that Kat should have occupied. If she were still alive. But Kat is dead, Paige thought. I killed her, too.
Gus Venable rose and slowly shuffled over to the witness box. He glanced at the rows of press. Every seat was filled, and the reporters were all busily scribbling. I’m going to give you something to write about, Venable thought.
He stood in front of the defendant for a long moment, studying her. Then he said casually, “Dr. Taylor…was John Cronin the first patient you murdered at Embarcadero County Hospital?”
Alan Penn was on his feet, furious. “Your honor, I—!”
Judge Young had already slammed her gavel down. “Objection sustained!” She turned to the two attorneys. “There will be a fifteen-minute recess. I want to see counsel in my chambers.”
When the two attorneys were in her chambers, Judge Young turned to Gus Venable. “You did go to law school, didn’t you, Gus?”
“I’m sorry, your honor. I—”
“Did you see a tent out there?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Her voice was a whiplash. “My courtroom is not a circus, and I don’t intend to let you turn it into one. How dare you ask an inflammatory question like that!”
“I apologize, your honor. I’ll rephrase the question and—”
“You’ll do more than that!” Judge Young snapped. “You’ll rephrase your attitude. I’m warning you, you pull one more stunt like that and I’ll declare a mistrial.”
“Yes, your honor.”
When they returned to the courtroom, Judge Young said to the jury, “The jury will completely disregard the prosecutor’s last question.” She turned to the prosecutor. “You may go on.”
Gus Venable walked back to the witness box. “Dr. Taylor, you must have been very surprised when you were informed that the man you murdered left you one million dollars.”
Alan Penn was on his feet. “Objection!”
“Sustained.” Judge Young turned to Venable. “You’re trying my patience.”
“I apologize, your honor.” He turned back to the witness. “You must have been on very friendly terms with your patient. I mean, it isn’t every day that an almost complete stranger leaves us a million dollars, is it?”
Paige Taylor flushed slightly. “Our friendship was in the context of a doctor-patient relationship.”
“Wasn’t it a little more than that? A man doesn’t cut his beloved wife and family out of his will and leave a million dollars to a stranger without some kind of persuasion. Those talks you claimed to have had with him about his business problems…”
Judge Young leaned forward and said warningly, “Mr. Venable…” The prosecutor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He turned back to the defendant. “So you and John Cronin had a friendly chat. He told you personal things about himself, and he liked you and respected you. Would you say that’s a fair summation, doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And for doing that he gave you a million dollars?”
Paige looked out at the courtroom. She said nothing. She had no answer.
Venable started to walk back toward the prosecutor’s table, then suddenly turned to face the defendant again.
“Dr. Taylor, you testified earlier that you had no idea that John Cronin was going to leave you any money, or that he was going to cut his family out of his will.”
“That’s correct.”
“How much does a resident doctor make at Embarcadero County Hospital?”
Alan Penn was on his feet. “Objection! I don’t see—”
“It’s a proper question. The witness may answer.”