Where Darkness Resides, page 2
“The banners said the celebrations last all week,” the companion clarified. He became concerned about changes to their original assignment.
“It doesn’t look like it’s going to die down anytime soon, boss. We’ll wait here until it’s dark and then sneak away,” the older male stammered. He wasn’t sure if the idea was acceptable, but it was all he could come up with at the time.
“Alright…alright. I’ll meet you at the office later tonight. Bring my boy with you.”
Chango abruptly hung up the phone, furious at the development, but happy his son was finally located.
Walking closer to his captive, the older male became more frustrated. He hadn’t planned on finding the son at the Regal Isabela resort amidst the celebrations but at a more private place where they could easily slip away. He also hadn’t planned on his boss finding out they had captured his son so quickly. He wasn’t sure if it was his partner who tipped the boss off or if they were being secretly followed by another member of the mafia. Giving Chango back his son was the original plan but when the other copas secretly offered him money to bring the son to them instead, things changed. He needed to figure out how to lose any tail or determine whether his younger partner would object if he was going to follow through with his promise to deliver Chango’s son to the copas and get paid a lucrative amount of money.
Maybe I should cut him in on the action, he thought. Eyeing his companion filled the man with disgust. I don’t want to share my take. But I may have to, he conceded.
Reluctantly, he motioned the younger man to follow him out to the terrace.
“What’s up? What do you need?” the younger companion asked inquisitively. He too was confused as to the new predicament and whether they were going to escape unseen from the resort with an unwilling captive in tow.
“Look, I know this is a unique assignment to say the least, but we…,” he walked further into the terrace to ensure his captive was not in earshot. “We can make a lot of money. You’re willing to make some money, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean money? This isn’t a paid gig.”
“Well, that’s what I’m talking about. You know Chango wants his son back. But others in the family want Chango’s son first if you know what I mean.”
He sighed at his comment knowing the weight of his secret mission was now in the open and he no longer had to hide it from his partner.
“I…I’m new to all this. I don’t know about it. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“You’ve heard he stole a lot of money and family heirlooms from some of the family members years ago. They’re still not happy about that. They want their money back. They’re willing to pay us if they can have first crack at him to see where he hid the money. What do you say? Are you in?”
After a long pause, the younger partner eagerly answered, “I’m in. But how are we getting out of here?”
“Leave that to me,” the older male said as he walked back into the casita.
3 VOIR DIRE
Phoenix, Arizona
Same Day
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Jessica Furman said as she dismissed the attorneys from the bench after a conference to discuss the next stage in the trial. The attorneys headed back to their respective tables. “We are now going to do voir dire. It’s a fancy word, I know, but it’s one of the few legal phrases not in Latin. It’s Anglo-Norman for the phrase ‘to tell the truth.’ This is when the attorneys decide which of you in the jury pool will sit as jurors in this case. I will first ask the jury some background questions. Then each side will have the opportunity to ask the entire panel questions to delve deeper into your background and any potential biases. It’s important to answer the questions truthfully. If there is a question you think is too personal to answer before the entire panel, please let the bailiff know and we can let you answer in private without the other members present.”
The sixteen jurors in the jury box as well as those in the gallery became even more attentive when they realized the trial was now focused on them. Several jurors’ smiles brightened. Others turned their attention from the judge to the attorneys seated at the counsel tables to prepare themselves for the questioning. A younger juror who was of college age was dozing off possibly due to all-night partying.
Judge Furman continued.
“The parties have prepared a brief statement I will read to you to give you a background of the case,” Judge Furman announced. She then faced the jury while holding the statement in the air with her right hand. “This case arises from a traffic collision that occurred west of 68th Street on Camelback Road in Scottsdale, Arizona, on May 2nd at approximately 1:15 p.m., between a car driven by Carlos Hernandez and a shuttle bus driven by Martin Weaver. Mr. Weaver was driving a shuttle bus owned by the Regal Phoenix Resort and Spa in the inside lane of westbound traffic on Camelback Road. Mr. Hernandez was driving his Lexus LC convertible in the middle lane of westbound traffic on Camelback Road. A collision occurred between the two vehicles and Mr. Hernandez was ejected from the vehicle and fatally injured. Mr. Hernandez’s estate contends Mr. Weaver’s vehicle encroached into Mr. Hernandez’s lane of traffic and struck his vehicle. Mr. Weaver contends Mr. Hernandez’s vehicle encroached into his lane of traffic and struck his vehicle.”
After reading the statement, the judge asked the jury questions regarding whether they were acquainted with the plaintiffs, the defendants, the attorneys assigned to the case, and the numerous witnesses who were going to testify during the trial. She then proceeded to ask them about their employment history, educational background, their age, and marital status and whether any jurors would have a hardship if they were assigned to a two-week jury trial.
The attorneys feverishly took notes as each of the jurors gave their answers to the judge’s questions. The attorneys for the Weavers and the resort, John Davis and Marissa Robles, each drew sixteen squares on a legal pad with each of the jurors’ numbers at the left corner of the square. They then wrote notes for each question answered by the juror so they could evaluate each juror at the end of voir dire and decide whether to strike or pass the juror. It was standard practice for attorneys to grid out the jury like this.
“Thank you, jurors. I am done with my questions. Mr. Clarkson, are you ready to ask questions on behalf of the plaintiffs?” the judge inquired.
“Yes, your honor,” the older attorney said as he stood up.
His silver hair was slick and professional despite his hometown drawl. When he approached the lectern, he dragged it across the floor so it would be centered to the juror box. His partner rushed over to assist him given its size.
“Thank you,” he said to his partner with a pleasant smile as he then faced the jury.
“My name is Doug Clarkson. My partner and I, Danica Bridgers, represent the Hernandez family. Unfortunately, Carlos Hernandez is no longer with us, but he would want an objective jury to resolve this case. So we, his wife, Selinda, and their two children want you to honestly answer our questions. If your answer is yes to the question, just raise your hand and I can follow up with additional questions if needed. Thank you.”
The jurors shook their heads in agreement.
“If you are selected to sit on this case, will you be able to render a verdict solely on the evidence presented at trial and in the context of the law as the judge will give in the jury instructions disregarding any other ideas, notions, or beliefs about the law you may have?”
Doug scanned the jury box as the jurors one by one slowly raised their hands indicating an affirmative answer. He nodded to each juror to acknowledge their response. One lonely juror failed to raise his hand. Doug eyed the juror to determine why he was the exception. “Juror number….”
“Number four,” the male said after double-checking his juror badge before answering.
“Yes, juror number four. Why do you feel you will be unable to follow the law as instructed by the court?”
“I don’t agree with the law. The laws are unjust and allow plaintiffs to recover loads of money like that woman suing McDonald’s for spilled coffee.” The juror was proud of his answer while the other jurors listened attentively to see how the attorneys reacted.
Doug proceeded to ask the juror questions to elicit answers about why he felt verdicts were high and if the juror could be fair and award the plaintiffs the millions of dollars they were requesting in this wrongful death case.
“Well, this case is different. I mean someone died. It’s not like they just scraped a knee or just got whiplash,” the juror explained.
“I appreciate you acknowledging the severity of this case. Do you think you are able to award the Hernandez family the money they deserve if you find the defendants caused the crash and my client did not?” Doug asked.
“Yes. Yes, I can,” the juror said reassuring himself.
The juror also hoped he reassured the plaintiffs’ counsel of his sincere objectivity. After being questioned, he was more personally invested in the case and wanted to be seated on the jury after all.
Doug asked the next question on his voir dire list.
During the break from questioning the jurors, John and Marissa were outside the courtroom in the hallway while watching the jurors file into the elevators in groups to head down to the first floor to patronize the courthouse’s restaurant. Once all of the jurors were no longer in the hallway, the two discussed the case.
“I can’t believe Daniel isn’t here right now,” Marissa remarked. “It’s not like him to miss a trial.”
“Didn’t he tell you he’s vacationing in Puerto Rico?” John asked.
“No. I…I’m shocked.”
“We’ll be okay. We’ve second chaired many trials. We can do this ourselves and make Daniel and our client proud. I’m sure Daniel’s confident in your skill level. I know I am.”
John didn’t want to appear patronizing, but both attorneys had been practicing for over seven years, most of that at the Mendoza law firm.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Marissa said as she took a deep breath, steadying herself for the long week ahead. “He deserves a vacation after everything he’s been through.”
“I’m sure he’s going to check in on us every day for an update,” John added although he had his own doubts about that.
He hoped Daniel would instead focus on enjoying himself in Puerto Rico. Upon his return, Marissa and John would announce their surprising victory. John could dream after all.
Mr. Weaver walked out of the courtroom and approached his attorneys.
“I wanted to thank you for representing us. You guys are doing an excellent job,” he declared.
“Thank you, Mr. Weaver,” Marissa replied.
“How is Rose doing?” John asked.
“She’s feeling better. She’s with our son right now,” Mr. Weaver explained.
“I’m glad the jurors met her before voir dire. A trial can be very stressful,” Marissa explained.
“Do you think the plaintiffs’ counsel will call her as a witness?” Mr. Weaver asked. “This is too much for her with her Alzheimer’s.”
“They won’t. They didn’t list your wife as a witness,” John said. “They can always change their minds, but plaintiffs’ counsel is aware of your wife’s Alzheimer’s, and they’re concerned about it tainting the jury with sympathy for you. They’ve filed a motion we’ve yet to argue with the judge.”
“Good.” Mr. Weaver was relieved.
“Are you taking notes too?” Marissa asked Mr. Weaver. “We’ll want your input on how you feel about the jurors and if there are any you have concerns about.”
“Oh yes, I am. Copious notes. I have a few concerns,” he added with a smile.
Before he could discuss them, the elevator doors opened, and the jurors filled the hallway again.
“Looks like the jurors are back. Remember the judge’s admonition. We can’t speak to the jurors. Just be polite and smile,” John reminded them both as he stood at attention and nodded to the jurors while they entered the courtroom.
When it was the defendants’ turn to question the potential jurors, Ms. Robles stood up and walked the well of the court - that area of the courtroom between the bench, the jury box, and counsel’s tables. She smiled at each of the jurors in the jury box.
“Mr. Clarkson asked you a lot of questions which makes my part really easy. I’m not going to repeat any questions already asked. I did have a few questions and I’ll be quick about it. First, if you were my clients would you have any issue with you being on the jury?”
The jurors seemed stumped by the question and pondered whether they could be fair and impartial. Several of the jurors immediately raised their hands affirming they would be good prospective jurors. One juror contacted the bailiff and whispered something to her. Marissa watched as the bailiff approached the judge. Summoning the attorneys to the bench, the judge then turned on the white noise generator to drown out their voices so the jury and anyone else in the courtroom couldn’t hear their discussion.
“We have an issue with juror number nine,” the judge explained. “Juror number nine would like to discuss his answer in private. We can discuss it in my chambers. Is that acceptable to counsel?”
“That’s fine, your honor,” Mr. Clarkson responded.
“I’m fine with that also,” Marissa said.
The judge, the juror, the court reporter, and the attorneys walked into the judge’s chambers for privacy without having to dismiss the entire courtroom. Once the court reporter was situated with her portable stenograph, the judge proceeded.
“Juror number nine, I understand you wanted to discuss your answer to Ms. Robles’ latest question in private,” the judge asked.
The juror was nervous but felt compelled to disclose his beliefs.
“Yes, your honor. I am sure Mr. Clarkson’s clients will want to know this but given my experience, I would be biased.”
“Why is that?” the judge inquired.
She, as well as the attorneys, were perplexed by the juror’s revelation given the positive answers the juror gave during the questioning so far. The juror appeared to be neutral, and a likely candidate selected by either party to be seated as a juror.
“Well, I could not find in favor of Hispanics. In my experience, they are reckless drivers and cause accidents.”
The juror was not embarrassed by his statement which he firmly believed.
“Thank you,” the judge said. “Can you wait outside with the bailiff while I discuss with the attorneys?”
The juror rose from his chair and walked to the hallway outside the judge’s chambers, closing the door behind him.
“Mr. Clarkson, I take it you will have no problem dismissing the juror for cause,” the judge declared.
“No, your honor. We appreciate the juror’s truthfulness in this matter. It’s better we learn it now before trial.”
“Agreed,” the judge replied. “Ms. Robles?”
“I have no objections to that, your honor.”
“It’s settled then. We will thank and dismiss juror number nine.”
4 TOSSED
Isabela, Puerto Rico
Later That Evening
After eating flan for dessert, Pamela wiped her mouth with a linen napkin, placed it on the table, and leaned back on her chair.
“I’m full,” she announced.
Bursts of cool Caribbean wind refreshed her. Daniel was also pleased and not just with the meal. Dinner went better than expected. The small talk was pleasant and unrelated to either of their jobs. It was focused mainly on Puerto Rico and its rich culture and diversity. Daniel welcomed the discussion because it refreshed his soul and helped him reminisce about his previous visits to the island.
“What’s on the agenda tonight?” Daniel asked with a gleaming smile.
The anniversary celebrations had already started, but Daniel wasn’t sure if they should participate in the hotel festivities or just relax in the casita after his long flight. He hoped Pamela had an idea or two which would make the evening even more special. A part of him, however, wished he could have shared these moments with Corina instead. He unexpectedly imagined what she was doing. Images of her beautiful smile overtook him. Shaking these thoughts, he instead focused on enjoying the time with Pamela. She was here and deserved his undivided attention.
“Well,” he added after composing himself.
“I don’t know. You know me. I’m always up for some fun. Real fun, but….”
Pamela’s eyes widened as if her mind was working overtime. She hesitated in sharing her thoughts with Daniel out of concern for ruining their lovely evening.
“What is it? I know you, Pam. Something’s ruminating in that crazy head of yours. Don’t pretend it isn’t?”
He laughed.
Daniel didn’t expect her response.
“It’s just that…you know…after all the loud noise we heard from the casita next to us, I thought maybe someone may be hurt. I’m concerned,” Pamela explained.
“Why didn’t you mention that before? We could have done something earlier.” Daniel stood up and looked across the bushes into the neighboring casita’s terrace. “Looks like all the lights are off.”
Pamela walked closer in hopes of seeing something revealing. She didn’t. Like Daniel said, the terrace was completely empty. There were no signs of broken dishes or that anyone had actually been on the terrace. Nevertheless, something made Pamela eerily suspicious.
“I’m going to change really quickly and walk next door if you don’t mind. You’re welcome to come.”
She walked into the casita, fully expecting Daniel to follow without looking back. When she heard his footsteps behind her, she smiled. They both changed into casual resort wear skipping a shower so they could check the next casita without further delay.
