Page 39 of Exacting Vengeance

“Good morning.” Only AUSA Washington’s back and one shoulder were visible on the monitor, but Victoria easily recognized his voice. “Please state your name for the record.”

“Alyona Kolbayev,” she answered.

“Do you recognize the defendant, Boris Kolbayev?” Washington asked.

“I do.” Again, her eyes darted to the defendant’s table.

“And what is your affiliation with Boris Kolbayev?”

“He’s my husband.” This time, she didn’t look at Boris but stared straight ahead at AUSA Washington.

“Good girl.” A lump formed in Victoria’s throat. The opportunity to face Yuri the way Aly was facing Boris had never presented itself. Now, sitting here watching Aly, she questioned whether she would have had the guts to testify so courageously against her own husband. Like Aly, she needed closure. Unlike Aly, she didn’t know how to get it.

For the next few minutes, AUSA Washington asked Aly basic questions, establishing how long she and Boris had been married and that they’d lived together for eight years. The next questions would be difficult enough. It was the cross-examination Victoria worried about most.

“Do you recall where you were the night of October 25 last year?” the AUSA asked. “Specifically, between the hours of six p.m. and eleven p.m.?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I was at home.”

“Was your husband, Boris Kolbayev, there with you?”

She licked her lips. “No.”

“And how do you remember where you were on this specific date, given that it was nearly a year ago?”

“Um.” She flicked her eyes to where Boris sat.

Victoria caught the hardening of Kyle’s jaw as he, too, looked at the defendant’s table. While she couldn’t see him, she knew Boris was doing something to unnerve Aly. Victoria was sure of it.

Don’t look at him!

“Mrs. Kolbayev? Why do you remember where you and Boris were that particular night?”

“Because the next morning, Boris came home with blood on his shirt. He-he, uh, told me that if anyone asked, I should say he was home with me all night.”

Good girl. Victoria breathed a sigh of relief. But now Boris’s attorney would have his chance.

“Did you discuss the blood on his shirt?”

“Yes. I was worried he was hurt, so I asked him about it.”

“And what did he say?”

Aly bit her lower lip. “He told me to shut up and forget I ever saw it.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“No.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

Another man she presumed was Boris’s attorney, Mikhail Lazovsky, approached the witness stand, standing closer to Aly than Greg Washington had. Even Lazovsky was trying to intimidate Aly.

Victoria clasped her hands together tightly, worrying for her client.

“Mrs. Kolbayev,” Lazovsky said in a too-pleasant tone that grated on Victoria’s nerves. He waved a document in front of Aly’s face. “Exhibit C. This is a document signed by you, in which you state that on the night of October 25 last year, your husband was with you all night and was there in bed when you woke up the next morning.” He set the document in front of Aly and pointed. “Is that your handwritten statement?” She nodded jerkily. “Please answer yes or no.”

“Y-yes.”