“I smell like chlorine,” Daniel said as he sniffed his arm. He sprayed cologne to mask the smell.

  “They won’t mind,” Pamela responded as she exited the casita and walked the few steps to the next one.

  “Hello.”

  Knocking on the door, Pamela couldn’t hear anything from inside. She pressed her ear to the door but still nothing. The noise from the celebration drowned out even the sound of her voice when she repeated her greeting.

  Daniel tried to look inside the casita.

  “It’s hard to tell if anyone’s home,” he said after moving his head in every direction of the window to inside the casita as best he could. “Are you sure we even heard anything coming from their terrace? Maybe it was just the sounds of celebration? That’s all.”

  He double-checked in anticipation of Pamela instructing him to do so. When she noticed him doing it, she quickly stopped herself from admonishing him.

  “I’m going inside,” she declared.

  “Wait. You can’t do that. What if there are people inside, you know…?”

  She glared at him with a strange look.

  “You know what I mean. Making love. They wouldn’t want us barging in the middle of that. We could get in trouble,” he declared.

  Daniel looked around for resort security in case but saw none.

  “I’m used to awkward situations,” she explained. “It won’t be a big deal. I’ll talk myself out of it. You’re an attorney. You can talk yourself out of a paper bag.”

  Pamela laughed as she worked her magic on the casita door lock. She opened it slowly to avoid startling any guests.

  “Is anyone home?” Pamela asked as she walked deeper into the dark casita.

  The lights were off. She found the light switch and turned it on. The casita was a mess.

  “Looks like someone ransacked it,” Daniel said as he stood next to her. “Drawers are open. Clothes are haphazardly strewn everywhere. I wonder what they were looking for?”

  Daniel walked towards the dresser for any clue.

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Pamela added.

  She too searched the casita to determine the nature of things.

  “I only see male clothes,” Daniel announced as he tossed something aside to look further into the drawer.

  He then picked up some clothes from the floor and returned them to their place in the dresser. He hoped clearing the mess might reveal something. It did. He saw an airline ticket on the floor, picked it up, and read the name on it - “C. Quintana.”

  I wonder who that is, he thought.

  Meanwhile, Pamela searched the wooden desk on the opposite side of the casita.

  “Looks like there was a laptop here,” she said.

  The laptop power cord was still plugged into the outlet, but it lay lifeless on the desk as if the laptop was suddenly pulled away without any regard for what it was connected to. Pamela read the papers and booklets scattered on the desk for any clues. They were mainly local travel information for guests unfamiliar with the area. Nothing was helpful or suggested anything about the occupant or what was on the laptop.

  Daniel found a chair in the middle of the casita’s living room. He could smell sweat and blood emanating from the rope still loosely wrapped around the bottom of the chair. The back legs appeared slightly bent as if an individual restrained in the chair was beaten or even tortured. Daniel wondered if it was just his imagination getting the best of him.

  “Pamela, I think you’ll want to see this,” Daniel excitedly uttered. His heart was racing.

  She came rushing towards him.

  “What did you find? Oh my!!”

  She carefully examined the chair without touching it or removing anything attached to it.

  “Now, I told you something strange happened here,” Pamela said.

  She wanted to add she regretted not coming sooner. Her mind imagined stopping the culprit or possibly preventing the escape.

  Daniel knew all too well what Pamela was thinking and any regret she felt.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Pam. We don’t know how many people were here. We could have walked into a hornet’s nest.”

  Nothing Daniel could say would assuage Pamela’s conscience.

  5 INQUIRY

  Isabela, Puerto Rico

  The Next Day

  Walking towards the main building of the Regal Isabela resort, Pamela and Daniel were mystified after searching casita number eight. Daniel showed Pamela the airline ticket he found on the floor. He believed it was a clue but what it meant or who it referred to, they didn’t know.

  “It could have been left by a guest from a previous stay,” Pamela mused. “Who knows how long it’s been there?”

  “I’ve stayed at numerous Regal Wisteria resorts. I know they are meticulous in cleaning their suites. They’re proud of their impeccable customer service. I don’t think they would have allowed another guest to stay in the casita with belongings from the previous guest, especially with their anniversary celebration looming.”

  “You may be right, but everyone makes a mistake. No one is perfect. Not even the cleaning crew.”

  Pamela was stern in her conviction but didn’t want to upset Daniel. Obviously, he was very proud of his client and may have been blinded by loyalty. Or perhaps a fanciful desire to see something where in reality there was nothing. She was the investigator and had experience with searching hotel rooms and homes. Pamela was aware that not everything added up. Sometimes things were false leads and meant nothing at all.

  “I admit. I may be making more about the ticket than what it is. I have a feeling this means something and is important. But I’ll let it go,” Daniel said.

  He wouldn’t bring it up again to her, but he filed it away in his memory in case new information arose.

  As they approached the main building, the fireworks were even louder. In the distance, they could see the open-air circular restaurant with guests seated around its circumference, enjoying good food, the night sky, and conversation. A string quartet was playing classical music for the guests. The resort’s event coordinator and staff were entertaining groups of guests, both young and old, with various festivities. Upon seeing the other guests enjoying themselves, Daniel wondered if it was worth pursuing some unexplained event where the participants could be long gone. However, Daniel didn’t want to disappoint Pamela. He also knew he saw fresh blood in that casita. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did nothing and it turned out a person was seriously injured or, worse yet, murdered.

  “Looks like the festivities are well underway,” he said sheepishly. “Once this is all over, we’ll have to listen to some Puerto Rican music. I hear they have bomba dancers coming later this week. I think you’ll like that.”

  Pamela wasn’t impressed. She was too focused on getting to the bottom of the mystery.

  “Yeah, maybe later,” she reluctantly responded, barely acknowledging the comment.

  Her eyes were steadfastly staring at the main building while she watched for anyone entering or exiting it or anything suspicious.

  “Let me open the door,” Daniel said as he rushed to do so.

  “I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all,” she joked as she turned aside to let Daniel pass her and open the oversized wooden door.

  “After you.”

  Daniel bowed slightly, pretending to be the resort’s doorman.

  “Gracias, Caballero,” Pamela mocked in broken Spanish.

  Shaking his head, Daniel decided to give Pamela a pass.

  At least she tried speaking Spanish, he thought.

  With dogged determination, Pamela headed straight to the nearest attendant.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said knowing better than to speak in a language she wasn’t strongly conversant in. “Can you assist me?”

  She smiled the way she normally does when subtly convincing someone to provide information they’re not supposed to disclose.

  “What do you need, Señora?” the attendant asked with an equally amazing smile.

  “Well…I’m staying in casita number seven and the neighboring casita is…is being disruptive,” she explained.

  “I’m so sorry. I can have security speak to them if you’d like,” the attendant suggested.

  “I don’t want to get them in trouble, actually. In fact, I just want to speak to them myself.”

  “You are welcome to speak with the guests in the adjacent casita. But I would advise against it. You never know how guests will respond and your safety is, of course, paramount.”

  Pamela wasn’t concerned about any confrontation given her extensive training in Aikido since she was a child. Explaining that to the attendant was definitely out of the question. Daniel watched the whole ordeal. He was amused but remained silent. He wanted to see how Pamela wormed her way out of this predicament.

  “Oh, I understand. I’m not trying to be difficult. I just would like to know who is staying in casita number eight. It will make things easier if I know their names.” Pamela continued smiling in a flirtatious way to disarm the attendant. “That way…you know…I can use a personal touch and assure them everything is okay, and we won’t make a big deal about it. We just want the disruptions to stop.”

  “I certainly can’t tell you their names. The resort respects its guests’ privacy.”

  “Sir, the last thing I want you to do is to violate a guest’s privacy. I don’t want you to get in trouble. No, not at all.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

  “Well, what can you do for me? Can you at least let me know if they are staying the entire week?” Pamela asked implying she was concerned the disruptions would continue.

  Worried she might become a disgruntled guest, the attendant responded, “Let me check.” He clicked the mouse a few times to check the appropriate reservation. “That’s strange.”

  He called the general manager to double-check his reservation system.

  “Ok. That’s good to know.”

  The attendant never relayed to his boss why he needed the information.

  “Well, Señora. I don’t know what to tell you or how to explain it, but casita number eight has been vacant for the past few weeks. There shouldn’t be anyone using the casita now. Are you sure you heard something from that casita?”

  Pamela was taken aback at the revelation.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Thank you,” she professed as she gently stroked the attendant’s hand resting on the countertop. Pamela turned to Daniel and said, “Let’s go, honey.”

  She suddenly grabbed Daniel’s hand and dragged him towards the door.

  Daniel shook his head in disbelief. He opened his mouth to admonish Pamela but knew better.

  After barely walking outside the main building, Daniel stopped. “Wait a minute. I need to check in with the firm and their trial today.”

  Daniel looked at his watch to confirm the local time in Arizona which was four hours behind Puerto Rico at that time of the year. He grabbed his phone, walked a few feet away from Pamela, and dialed Marissa’s cell phone number. Pamela impatiently waited.

  “Hey, Marissa. It’s me, Daniel.”

  “Hi, boss. It’s good to hear from you. How’s your vacation?”

  Her voice was somewhat perturbed.

  Realizing he’d only told John he was leaving, Daniel confessed, “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I was running late for the flight. I take it John told you where I am.”

  “He did.”

  By the sound of Marissa’s voice, Daniel knew she wasn’t concerned he was on vacation, but that he wasn’t at the trial. The strategy had always been that Daniel would first chair the trial with both Marissa and John working together as second chairs.

  “I have confidence in you, Marissa. The both of you. You’ll do well in the trial. There’s nothing more my presence could have added that you and John aren’t capable of handling.”

  Daniel’s reassurance was what Marissa needed although she would have performed excellently even without it.

  “Thank you, Daniel.”

  It was one of those rare moments where Marissa or anyone else in the firm called him by his first name besides Daniel’s secretary, Lydia. Daniel understood the significance of Marissa’s response. He was inwardly pleased with the development of their relationship.

  “Tell me about the trial. How’s it going?” Daniel asked.

  “Voir dire took a lot longer than expected.”

  Daniel heartily laughed at the disclosure.

  “Doug Clarkson is a talker. He’s thorough and a little disingenuous at times. Be on the lookout for his shenanigans. Don’t trust anything he says. He will stab you in the back the first chance he gets and will lie… I mean will shade the truth to the judge about his actions or the facts.”

  Daniel realized he should have sat down with John and Marissa and had these discussions before he left Puerto Rico, but he was preoccupied with personal things at the time.

  “That’s good to know,” Marissa remarked while mentally taking notes to advise John about Mr. Clarkson.

  “Did the judge at least impanel the jury today?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes, she did. The parties selected eight jurors and two alternates,” she explained.

  “Good. Good. And how many jurors are required to reach a jury verdict?”

  “Both sides ultimately agreed to six out of the eight. Doug originally wanted seven, but the judge said that wasn’t required. He relented after he realized the judge wasn’t going to budge.”

  “I told you how he is. And what about the alternates?”

  “The judge said she’ll let the parties decide at the end of the trial whether the alternates will deliberate along with the rest of the jury.”

  Melissa seemed unsure about the judge’s decision to put it off. Daniel wisely caught on to her concerns.

  “I always let the alternates deliberate. They’ve earned that right because they sat through the entire trial. Besides, if for some reason, a juror is disqualified, then the alternates don’t have to get up to speed with deliberations. There isn’t any delay in coming to a verdict. At least, not in my experience.”

  Marissa listened attentively. She suddenly remembered Daniel making the same choice in previous trials. She was about to ask Daniel a question but hesitated. Before Marissa could reconsider asking, Pamela beckoned Daniel to come back to her. She mouthed the words, “We need to go.”

  Daniel nodded toward Pamela and said to Marissa, “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  The call abruptly ended as Daniel headed back to Pamela.

  Daniel and Pamela walked on the starlit pathway back to their casita. A Puerto Rican male watched them intently. By the way he was dressed, he didn’t appear to be a guest. As the two rounded the corner, the male made a cell phone call.

  6 OPENING STATEMENTS

  Phoenix, Arizona

  The Same Day

  “And we’re going to be asking you to award a large sum of money, in the tens of millions, for the tragic wrongful death of Carlos because of the defendants’ recklessness when they caused this crash. His family has suffered enough from the loss of their husband, father, and close friend. Unfortunately, we can’t bring Carlos back, but we can hold the defendants accountable for this needless crash. They don’t want to accept responsibility for it and haven’t so far. But we need you, the jury, to hold them accountable. We thank you, ladies and gentlemen, in advance for your service.”

  Doug Clarkson smiled soberly towards the jury as he grabbed his yellow legal pad with his handwritten statement and walked away from the lectern back to the plaintiffs’ counsel’s table. His partner, Danica, had been observing the jury the entire time for their reactions to Doug’s opening statement. Some jurors listened attentively while others crossed their arms - body language which jury consultants claim are a sign those jurors were closed off to Doug’s comments. Surprisingly, the college student was selected as a juror. He periodically dozed off while Doug spoke. Shaking his head occasionally helped him stay awake, but not always. The student needed coffee or an energy drink as a pick-me-up.

  Forgetting he’d placed an oversized photo of Carlos Hernandez on the easel stand in front of the jury to emphasize during his opening statement, Doug walked back to the well of the court. He moved the stand toward the back of the courtroom but still facing the jury. He wanted the jury to see Carlos’ handsome, smiling face while the defense counsel gave their opening statement. It was a subliminal reminder of the tragic loss the jury was dealing with. And of course, a subtle way to undermine the defense counsel.

  When Doug finally sat down, the judge spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Clarkson. Ms. Robles. You’re opening statement.”

  Marissa recalled Daniel’s advice: “Remember to drink some water before you speak because the nervousness causes your throat to parch.” The long sip of water she took not only quenched her thirst but also calmed her nerves. Marissa walked to the lectern with a printout of her opening statement. She scanned the jury and was pleased. The jury was evenly split and consisted of five males and five females of various ages. It was not the typical older jury impaneled in the Phoenix area as she had in past trials. The older jurors were generally more conservative and less likely to award ridiculous amounts of money. Younger jurors were not as frugal. But a wrongful death case was different and preconceived notions were not always applicable. Marissa tried not to worry about those things and focused instead on her opening statement.

  “May it please the court, counsel, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my name is Marissa Robles. I am an attorney who represents Mr. and Mrs. Weaver and their employer, the Regal Phoenix Resort and Spa. Martin Weaver is here today and will be here for the entire trial. His wife, Rose, is unable to attend the trial because of health reasons. You met her briefly yesterday. They have been married for over thirty years and have lived in their home in Cave Creek, Arizona for nearly two decades. They have a son, Nicholas, who graduated from Arizona State University, and also a daughter, Margaret, who is a pharmacist.”

 

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