Before He Wakes (39 page)

After Officer Ralph Mack told of relaying the tape to Buchanan, Buchanan related how he had taken it to the SBI lab for tests, then got it back two days later and played it for the Stagers.

Mike Robertson, the SBI lab technician, again went through his testimony, and while he remained on the stand, the lawyers huddled before Judge Allen. Again the jury was sent out, and Evenson told the judge that he would ask that only the first section of the tape be played, only the parts about the sleeping pills and the bills.

The jury returned unaware of what they were about to hear, but when the tape began, none betrayed surprise that the voice they were hearing had to be that of the man whose death had brought them all together.

When the voice had been stopped by Robertson, as directed, the judge declared a recess for lunch.

After lunch, Russ’s friend and fellow coach, Mike Wood, was sworn in. Soon after Russ’s death, he said, he had cleaned out Russ’s desk in the locker room office they had shared so that his belongings could be taken to Barbara. But one of the desk drawers was stuck and he couldn’t get it open. A week or so later, he said, he forced the drawer open and a tape recorder slid to the front. It was gray, he said, with a clear face, a handle on the side.

“It was about that big,” he said, gesturing with meaty hands, “played little minicassettes.”

Just before the trial began, he said, Evenson had called him, told him about the tape and asked him to look for the recorder.

“I couldn’t locate it in the office anywhere,” he said.

Evenson had one more question. Did he recognize the voice on the tape that had been played just before lunch?

“That was Russ’s voice.”

Russ’s sister, mother and father came to the stand one after the other to identify the voice as Russ’s. After Al Stager had confirmed the voice, Evenson proceeded to nail down the source of the sleeping pills. He asked Al if he took any medications. Heart medicine, he said, and Dalmane for sleep, thirty-milligram tablets.

On one occasion during the previous year, he said, he had just gotten home from work and was looking through the day’s mail when Barbara’s car pulled into the driveway. She got out and came inside.

“We got to talking and she mentioned that she was having a little problem sleeping, wanted to know if I had any sleeping medication. And I said, ‘The only thing I have is Dalmane, it’s strong,’ and she wanted some, so I said, ‘Well, how many do you want?’ And she said either two or three. I know I gave her at least two, but I told her that you ought to only just take one, because they are very high potent. They really put you to sleep.”

Did he remember when that was?

“It must have been around the twenty-sixth or twenty-seventh of January.”

Cotter tried to counter this as best he could. “Mr. Stager, do you know if any Dalmane was found in your son’s body?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I have no further questions.”

“You may step down,” said the judge.

“That’s the evidence for the state,” Evenson said.

“The state rests?” asked the judge, his voice showing slight surprise.

“Yes, sir.”

It was 2:09
P.M
., May 15. The prosecutors had gotten in part of the tape of Russ’s voice. They had gotten in Larry’s death. They hoped that the jurors would put the two together and see what they had seen after hearing the tape: that in a small but telling way, it confirmed that Barbara had murdered Larry, too. The jurors had seen the photos of Larry’s body on his bed. It appeared that he had been trying to get up when he was shot. Surely he had been awakened by some noise and had seen Barbara, or at least her silhouette, standing before him with a gun aimed at his heart. That must have haunted her, and that would explain why she had given Russ sleeping pills in the days before he was shot. She didn’t want to risk him waking up and seeing her ultimate betrayal. That would explain, too, why Russ ultimately had been shot in the back of the head.

The prosecutors were satisfied, even though there was much that the jurors didn’t know. Because the state was restricted from presenting any evidence adversely reflecting on her character, the jurors had heard nothing of Barbara’s affairs, the warrants for bad checks, the job she had lost for mishandling money, the rumors and charges of a lesbian love triangle that had abounded after the death of her friend Kay Pugh. They knew nothing of the suspicions of Larry’s parents and their long, futile struggle to see that something was done about their son’s death.

The evidence of Barbara’s tangled financial affairs in the year preceding Russ’s death might have seemed less than clear. Had the jurors absorbed it? Did they understand? Would it be enough to show motivation? Evenson would have to depend on his final argument to make sure that they did.

“I would like to be heard,” Cotter said.

When the jurors had filed out, Cotter entered a motion that the charges against Barbara be dismissed.

“There is nothing in the state’s evidence that is inconsistent with what Barbara Stager demonstrated to the police on video,” he said. “There is nothing inconsistent with what she told the police officers and what they have is a lot of other evidence about other circumstances that don’t relate to this case, and I would ask Your Honor to dismiss it at this point.”

The state offered no response.

“The defendant’s motion to dismiss is denied,” the judge quickly ruled, and ordered the jurors back.

32

Cotter wanted to make an opening statement, and the judge reminded the jurors that it was their duty to be open-minded at this point. What they were about to hear was not evidence.

The issue at stake, Cotter said, was what had happened on the morning of February 1, 1988, nothing more. The defense would show that Barbara had little knowledge of guns and was afraid of them, that Russ liked guns very much and slept with them, that he had four other loaded pistols in a nightstand by the bed.

“The evidence will show that this couple had money troubles from the day they got married until the day that Russell Stager died, that this was not something that just flared up toward February 1, 1988.

“They were both irresponsible about spending money and they were used to balancing money and doing different things to keep afloat.”

About the financial matters after Russ’s death, Cotter said, “The evidence will show Barbara was kind of in a daze. She didn’t participate much in getting all of this stuff together.”

Bryant Webster returned to the stand to say the voice on the tape was not Russ’s. Likewise, Keith Belcher, Barbara’s cousin, said that he had played softball with Russ each summer, and the voice on the tape wasn’t Russ’s.

After Barbara’s son Bryan took the stand again, he said he had no doubt that the voice was not Russ’s.

“You called him Dad?” Evenson asked when his turn came.

“Yes, sir.”

“He adopted you as his own son, didn’t he?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He got you into the National Guard to help you pay for your college, didn’t he?”

“It was sort of a joint decision.”

“You wanted to take karate and he went with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he bought you a Volkswagen?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he bought you a truck?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he spent a lot of time with you, didn’t he?”

“Pretty much, yes, sir.”

“Went skiing with you?”

Bryan acknowledged with a nod.

“Took you squirrel hunting?”

“Yes, sir, one or two times.”

“And he taught your Sunday school class, didn’t he?”

“Yes, sir, he did.”

“And you recall at one point when you were up for an award, I believe it was soldier of the month or something like that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he talked proudly about you, he was beaming when you got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bryan, you know that’s your dad, don’t you, on the tape?” Evenson said softly.

“It’s not him. It’s not his voice.”

“But you know it really is, don’t you?”

“No, sir. It’s not his voice.”

Rebuffed, Evenson went on to ask about things Bryan had told the SBI agent who had talked with him after his mother’s arrest. Did he remember saying that he didn’t know that Russ had a .25-caliber pistol?

“I didn’t know exactly what kind of guns he had.”

Did he remember telling him he didn’t recall his parents expressing any fear of prowlers?

“I was at school at the time, so I never really heard. I didn’t really know anything about any prowlers.”

“And were you told that Mr. Ford was cleaning the gun and it went off because he had forgot to unload it, did you tell them that?”

“That’s what I always thought. I never knew exactly what happened.”

“Never knew what happened,” Evenson repeated. “Do you remember who told you that? Did your mom tell you that?”

“She may have. It might have been my uncle. I’m not sure.”

“Okay, well, it certainly wasn’t Mr. and Mrs. Ford, was it?”

“No, sir.”

“The reason is you haven’t seen them.”

“That’s right.”

“This is the first time you have seen them in almost ten years, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you want to go see them?”

“They didn’t make hardly any contact with us.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think that,” Bryan replied adamantly. “
I know
that.”

“How do you know that they made no contact?”

“The only contact we ever got from them was an occasional Christmas card, and that’s it.”

“Did you think that was a little odd?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you ever want to drive up there after you got your license and see your grandparents?”

“I did, but I wasn’t going to go up there uninvited.”

“And did your mom ever talk to you about the Fords?”

“Occasionally, well, yes, sir.”

“Did she tell you that they didn’t want to see you?”

“No, sir.”

Why hadn’t he ever mentioned the Fords to the Stagers? Evenson asked.

“I don’t know.”

Was it true that the Stagers didn’t even know the Fords’ first names?

“I don’t know what they know.”

“Well, did you ever tell them about your grandparents?”

“No, sir.”

Evenson brought up Bryan’s and Jason’s visits with the Monroes in Randolph County. Did Bryan ever think about dropping by to see his grandparents on one of those trips?

“Not really,” he said.

On redirect, Cotter got Bryan to recall a meeting he had had with his mother and Russ.

“They had gone to this National Guard thing. It was them and Jason. I guess I was at school and I had come home, I guess the next weekend. They called me and Jason back to their room and said something to the effect that they had made out wills and they wanted to know what articles of jewelry and stuff like watches we would want if they were to die.”

“Did you make a comment to them about that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you say?”

“I said it was kind of morbid for them to be doing that.”

Did he remember the cars his mom and stepfather had?

“There was no way I could remember all of them, but I remember some of them.”

“Approximately how many new cars did they have?”

“Around twenty.”

“Tell me some of them.”

“Cadillac. Mercedes. Mazda RX7. 280Z.” Each, except for the 280Z, he failed to mention, had been his mother’s car. “There were two boats also. Oldsmobile Royale. Broncos. Two of those. Cutlass Supreme. 228 Firebird. The Volkswagen I had, and the truck. Blazer. That’s about all.” Then he remembered the Mustang convertible his mother had been driving when Russ had died.

During a break after Bryan’s testimony, his grandfather spotted him standing alone, tall and slim, looking so much like his father, the son Henry Ford had lost.

Henry approached him. “Bryan, when this is over, I want you to come and see us,” he said. “Find out who we are.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing what you’re doing,” Bryan replied, and walked away.

Cotter called Linwood Tew, one of the owners of Clements Funeral Home, which had handled Russ’s funeral.

He had talked with Barbara on Tuesday, Tew said, the day before Russ’s body had been sent for autopsy after it had been cleaned and embalmed. He had found nothing unusual about Barbara’s demeanor or concerns, he said.

“I went over with her some of the things as far as benefits she may be eligible for, such as Social Security. And being in the military, there may be some military benefits available. She would need death certificates. Just basic information that we do for most all families.”