Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (40 page)

Jameson asked for a brief recess before putting his client on the stand, and it was granted. The judge left the courtroom, but because it would be less than ten minutes, the rest of us remained. It was all up to Amy now. I figured the two sides were about even, with the prosecution
’
s damaging questions to Amy
’
s psychiatrist. While we waited for the trial to resume, I did something I hadn
’
t done since I was a small child. I prayed.

Amy

M
r. Jameson used the short recess to ask if I was ready. There was no more time for coaching, except for his last-minute advice to allow some emotion to show.

“
I don
’
t mean histrionics and drama, Amy, but no one will believe your story if you keep that stoic expression,
”
he said.

“
I
’
m afraid if I don
’
t keep total control, I
’
ll break down.
”

“
If you do, I
’
ll have the judge give you time to compose yourself. It
’
s imperative you show you
’
re human, Amy.
”

“
I
’
ll do my best.
”

“
Do better than your best, Ms. Bruno. Your life depends on it.
”

If I hadn
’
t been nervous before, I was now. He could have skipped that last sentence. I twisted my head around to look at Rex, who gave me a smile and a thumbs-up signal. For him, I
’
d do better than my best. The poor man looked like he
’
d been put through an old-fashioned laundry device. They called it a wringer for a reason.

I took the stand and gave my oath in a bubble of unreality. Not all Mr. Jameson
’
s coaching, not the days of testimony before, not even being onstage in front of over sixty thousand people could have prepared me for this. For the surreal experience of looking into the eyes of a jury charged with finding me guilty or not guilty of murdering a man who
’
d been better to me than my own father had been.

Mr. Jameson approached me and smiled in an exaggerated way, which in turn made me smile at him.

“
Please state your name, age, and occupation for the jury, Amy.
”

“
My name is Amanda Bruno, but for the past few years I
’
ve gone by Amy Brown. I
’
m twenty-eight years old, and until recently I was a member of the band Oklahoma Sweet Crude. Before that, I took odd jobs.
”

“
Please tell the jury why you took odd jobs and went by a name not your own.
”

As he
’
d coached me, I turned to the jury and addressed them with as earnest an expression and tone as I could.
“
I had reason to believe I was being pursued by members of a cartel who wanted to kill me. I took odd jobs where I could be paid under the table, and used a different name so the people I encountered wouldn
’
t be able to inform the cartel about me if they were questioned.
”

“
Were you aware you were also being sought by police, and that you were in effect eluding them as well with these methods?
”

Still addressing the jury, I said,
“
No, sir. I wasn
’
t aware of having done anything the police would want me for.
”

“
Amy, please tell us why you thought members of this cartel would want to kill you.
”

“
I witnessed one of them killing Frank Magruder after luring him to the door using me as bait.
”

Excited murmuring broke out among the crowd, as had happened several times before during the trial. I knew to stop talking until the judge had restored order.

So far, the prosecuting attorney hadn
’
t objected to a question Mr. Jameson asked. He
’
d told me that we might be able to get in a point or two that would otherwise spark an objection, because of the other side
’
s reluctance to appear as a bully. This drill was familiar to me, and I knew the next question and answer would be the test.

“
Please state the name of the man who killed Frank Magruder.
”

“
Objection! Calls for speculation, Your Honor. Ms. Bruno is herself on trial for the murder.
”

I risked a peek at the judge, to find her staring at the prosecuting attorney with her face red and her mouth open.

“
I am well aware of who is on trial here, Counselor. Did you intend to call me a fool, or was it an accident?
”

I pressed my lips together to suppress the laugh. Some of the jurors weren
’
t so lucky. A snigger from that direction brought the judge
’
s ire to bear on them.
“
That
’
s enough.
”
Addressing the prosecuting attorney again, she said,
“
If Ms. Bruno is about to testify to having been an eyewitness to the murder, I wouldn
’
t call it speculation. Either she actually saw someone murder the victim, or she
’
s lying through her teeth. Until I have reason to believe the latter, she has as much right as anyone to testify to what she
saw
, Counselor. Don
’
t utter another frivolous objection, sir.
”

He seemed to be ready to make an objection to that, but with a visible effort, controlled his impulse and sat down.

The judge said,
“
Ms. Bruno, a question has been asked. Do you care to answer it?
”

“
Yes, Your Honor. I
’
ll answer it. However, may I say something first? It
’
s relevant, I promise.
”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Jameson frown. This wasn
’
t what we
’
d rehearsed, but I sensed the judge was sympathetic, and I needed to say this to someone who would listen.

“
Is it the truth?
”
she asked.

“
Yes, ma
’
am.
”

She leaned close to me.
“
Say it quietly, to me only.
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am. I
’
ve already told this to the police and to the district attorney. I
’
m afraid that if I say it in front of the media, innocent people will get hurt in the cartel
’
s goal to get to me.
”

“
I assure you, Ms. Bruno, that if there
’
s any truth to your statement, I
’
ll make sure it
’
s properly investigated. You may answer the question. And give the name of the cartel.
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am.
”
I straightened and caught the jury looking our way with naked curiosity.

Judge Andrews instructed the court recorder to read the question back, and then nodded at me.

“
His name is Octavio Mendez, and he is a member of the Mexican Mafia,
”
I said.
“
They are the ones I
’
ve been afraid of ever since.
”

After the uproar settled down, Mr. Jameson led me through the rest of the story, bringing out not only that Frank had saved my life when he pulled me out of that gutter, but that I was grateful to him for seeing to it I got long-term rehab. I admitted we
’
d had a falling out over my choice of bar tending as a career. Some tears fell when Mr. Jameson asked me how I came to be in the gutter, and again when I told how the murder had happened, and what happened to me afterward.

I wondered if I
’
d gone partially deaf during this time, because I didn
’
t hear a noise of any kind in the courtroom except Mr. Jameson
’
s questions and my answers. When he finished, Judge Andrews even sounded subdued when she said,
“
Your witness,
”
to the prosecution.

“
No questions, Your Honor.
”

That was a surprise. I continued to sit, unsure what would happen next, until she said,
“
You may step down, Ms. Bruno.
”

When I regained the defense table and sat down, Mr. Jameson stood up.
“
The defense rests, Your Honor.
”

In summation, the prosecutor walked back and forth in front of the jury, waving his arms and talking about
‘
a tissue of lies
’
and emphasizing the evidence. When he listed it, it didn
’
t sound like much to me. Of course, I was biased. Mr. Jameson
’
s turn came for summation, and I was stunned by his brevity.

“
You are all aware this is a capital murder trial. That my client is on trial at all after what she
’
s been through is a travesty. Even more of a travesty would be your finding her guilty of a crime she did not commit. Even if you believe every conclusion the prosecution has drawn from a very thin set of evidence, you cannot in good conscience say that there isn
’
t a shred of reasonable doubt. My client has named the murderer. As citizens of the great State of Texas, you can make a difference by forcing the police and the prosecution to do a better job. If you have a reasonable bone in your body, you
’
ll find my client not guilty. No, not just
‘
not guilty
’
. You
’
ll find her
innocent
of this crime.
”

I couldn
’
t believe it was over, and of course it wasn
’
t. Over the next half hour, the judge read a list of instructions to the jury and then dismissed them to deliberate. Andy, my public defender, went out for sandwiches and sodas, and brought them back to the secure room where I would wait with my attorneys, Rex, and the matron from the county lockup until the jury came back with a verdict or retired for the night. Andy and Mr. Jameson made bets about how quickly the jury would find me not guilty. Even Rex looked optimistic.

I couldn
’
t help but worry. It didn
’
t seem like we
’
d done enough to prove my innocence, even though Mr. Jameson assured me over and over it didn
’
t work that way. On top of that, since I
’
d publicly named Octavio and the Mexican Mafia, I expected a gun battle to erupt in the halls any moment. Surely they
’
d heard the news by now, and they
’
d take revenge since they hadn
’
t been able to prevent me from naming them.

Two hours passed, and I
’
d managed to relax a little when a knock came at the door. The matron answered, and then informed us we were being summoned back to the courtroom. I caught a startled glance between the attorneys, and no one answered when Rex asked if it was good the jury had come back so fast. I wondered the same thing, but didn
’
t want to know the answer. I
’
d know soon enough when the court reconvened.