“I like to run in the evening,” Ashley said. “My roommate, Sally Castle, usually ran with me but she wasn’t feeling well that night so I went alone.”

“Where did you run that evening?” Delilah asked.

“There’s a lot of woods on the Academy grounds with trails through them. I ran on the trails.”

“Does a river run alongside the Academy land?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a boathouse on the river?”

“Yes.”

“Did your route take you near the boathouse?”

“Yes it did.”

“How was the light when you started out?”

“Good.”

“When your route took you near the river and the boathouse, did you see anyone you knew?”

Ashley hesitated. She took a breath. “I saw Mr. Maxfield.”

“Ashley, I know that this is hard for you…”

“Objection,” Weller said. “That’s not a question.”

“Sustained,” Judge Stillman said. “Just ask your question without preamble, Ms. Wallace.”

“Yes, Judge. Ashley, please face the defendant.”

Delilah had told Ashley that this moment would come, but she was still not prepared. As her head turned toward Maxfield, she clasped her hands in her lap, squeezing hard enough to cause pain.

“Is that the man you saw in the woods near the river and the boathouse on the evening of June 24?”

Ashley’s eyes locked on Maxfield’s. His smile was gentle and not threatening. He seemed to be making her task easier. Ashley nodded and looked away.

“We need a verbal response, Miss Spencer,” the judge said.

Ashley took a deep breath and let it out. Delilah had told her how important it was that she make a positive identification without hesitation. If Maxfield was going to be punished for what he’d done to her, her family, and her friend, she would have to tell the judge that he was the man she saw at the boathouse.

“I saw Joshua Maxfield that night.” She pointed at Maxfield. “He is the man sitting in the courtroom with his lawyer.”

“Let the record reflect that Miss Spencer has identified the defendant, Joshua Maxfield,” Judge Stillman ordered.

“What was the defendant doing when you saw him that night for the first time?” Delilah asked.

“He was walking along the river toward the boathouse.”

Delilah paused and consulted her notes. Ashley wished they could stop now but she knew that they couldn’t.

“Ashley,” the prosecutor asked, “did anything unusual happen shortly after you saw the defendant walking toward the boathouse?”

“Yes.”

“Tell the court what happened and what you did.”

“I heard a scream. Actually, there was more than one.”

“How many screams did you hear?”

“Two.”

“Was there time between the screams?”

“Yes, but not much.”

“Could you tell who was screaming?”

“A woman. It was a woman’s scream.”

“What did you do when you heard the scream?”

Ashley looked down. Her voice dropped when she answered.

“I got scared. I froze. I thought about hiding.”

“Did you hide?”

“No.”

Ashley choked up. She reached again for her glass of water.

“What did you do after the second scream?”

“I went through the woods toward the boathouse.”

“Why the boathouse?”

“It sounded like they came from there.”

“Did you hear or see anything else before you arrived at the boathouse?” Delilah asked.

“No.”

“How close did you get to the boathouse?”

“I was right next to it. I went to one of the side windows and looked in.”

“Did you hear anything from your position?”

“Just before I looked in the window I heard a woman shout.”

“What did she say?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Why do you think a woman, not a man, shouted?”

“It was high-pitched.”

“How soon before you looked in the window did you hear the woman shout?”

“A few seconds.”

“What did you see when you looked in the window?”

Memories came flooding back: the body on the floor sprawled against the timber that supported the roof, the body curled into a fetal position on the floorboards. She wobbled in her seat and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Do you want to take a break?” Delilah Wallace asked, alarmed by Ashley’s pallor.

“No,” Ashley answered in a voice bereft of strength. “I want to get this over with.”

“You’re certain, Miss Spencer?” the judge asked. “We can recess.”

“No,” she answered more forcefully. “I can answer the question.”

Ashley turned to face Maxfield. She pointed at him.

“He was standing over Dean Van Meter. He was holding a knife. There was blood on the knife. I must have made some sound because he turned toward the window and stared right at me. Then he moved and I saw…I saw my…my mother.”

“Now, let me clarify this point. Did you know the identity of the two women then?”

“No. I couldn’t see their faces. It was dark in the boathouse.”

“But you could see the defendant?”

Ashley felt stronger now. She glared at Maxfield. “Definitely. It was him. He was very close to the window, holding the knife. There was blood all over it.”

“What happened next?”

“I ran and he chased me. I got to the dorm and told the security guard. He called the police.”

Delilah checked her notes. She had covered everything she wanted to bring out from Ashley for purposes of the preliminary hearing. The medical examiner’s report and the stipulations established that Terri Spencer had been murdered and that Casey Van Meter was in a coma because of an assault. Ashley had placed Joshua Maxfield at the scene of the murder and the assault moments after Ashley had heard two screams. She had also established that a woman had shouted something inside the boathouse seconds before Ashley had seen the defendant holding the bloody knife that had been used to murder Terri Spencer.

“No further questions,” Delilah said, regretting that Ashley would now be at the mercy of Maxfield’s attorney. She had seen how hard even the friendly questions had been for her witness. Barry Weller was a decent sort. Delilah hoped that he would not be too rough on Ashley.

“Any cross, Mr. Weller?” Judge Stillman asked.

Weller started to say something, but Joshua Maxfield touched him on the arm and whispered in his ear.

“May I have a moment to consult with my client, Your Honor?”

“Of course,” Stillman said.

Weller leaned toward Maxfield.

“We need to talk,” Maxfield said.

“I’ll ask for a recess after I cross.”

“No, now. We have to talk right now,” Maxfield insisted.

“Look, Joshua, Spencer is rattled. I don’t want to give her time to get her legs back under her.”

“Cross won’t be necessary, Barry. I want to change my plea to guilty.”

“What!” Weller said in a tone loud enough to attract attention. He looked around briefly. Everyone in the courtroom was staring at him. Barry lowered his voice.

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“If you plead, it doesn’t mean you’ll avoid a death sentence. You understand that the DA can demand a sentencing hearing if she still wants to go for death?”

Maxfield looked over his shoulder at the spectators. Miles Van Meter caught his eye for a moment and Maxfield looked away.

“People are listening to us,” he said nervously. “Can we go someplace where we’ll have some privacy?” He pointed at the door to the jury room. “Is that a place we can talk?”

“Let me ask the judge.”

Weller stood. “May I approach the bench, Your Honor?”

The judge summoned the attorneys to the dais. As soon as Delilah joined him, Weller leaned toward the judge.

“Your Honor, my client and I need to discuss an important matter in private. Could we take a brief recess? Perhaps we could use the jury room.”

“This young woman is barely holding on, Barry,” the judge said. “I want to get her out of here as soon as possible.”

“Without revealing any confidences, Judge, I can tell you that the outcome of our conversation might benefit Miss Spencer.”