Private Vegas (22 page)

I had to stop speaking. My throat closed up and my eyes watered as I remembered the unspeakable horror.

Caine’s voice broke into my thoughts. He said, “What happened after First Lieutenant Del Rio brought you back to life?”

I could see it now, so clearly that I was as good as there. Could I put it into words? I tried.

“Later. The sun was coming up,” I told the jury. “I was on a stretcher, with a saline drip in my arm. There were sedatives in the bag too, hard core enough to keep me down.

“But I could see through the dust and the veil of smoke that Rick was following the corpsmen into what was left of the aircraft. He came out with the body bags, helped lay them out in a line on the ground.

“We had survived and they were dead. This…there are no words…for how this feels.”

Tears ran from my eyes. I just couldn’t speak. Caine told me to take my time, and finally, I looked at Del Rio and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, but he, too, was breaking down.

Dexter Lewis got to his feet and objected.

“Your Honor, I think we all understand the relationship between the witness and the defendant. There’s no point in continuing this testimony when in fact it has nothing to do with this trial.”

“I’ll allow it, Mr. Lewis. Go on, Mr. Morgan.”

I went back there again and told what I saw.

“Del Rio was squatting down maybe twenty feet away from where I was lying. He unzipped Corporal Young’s bag. I could hear some of what he said. It was like, ‘Danny, I hope you’re still hanging around and can hear me, man.’

“He was talking and then laughing, like he and Danny were sharing a joke, and then his expression changed. I heard him say, ‘Sheila.’

“Sheila was Danny’s wife, pregnant with their fourth child, and I heard Rick say that when the baby was due, he would go to Lubbock, be there for Sheila. Then Rick made the sign of the cross on Danny’s forehead, said, ‘I’ll keep you with me, Danny. See ya soon.’

“He went down the line to the next bag, unzipped it, and talked to the next Marine, and then the next, all of them as if they were living and whole.

“He said he was sorry, talked awhile, made jokes. Then he made the sign of the cross, sent them off…It was like a sacrament, a beautiful, beautiful thing.”

Caine brought over the tissues and I wiped my eyes. But tissues couldn’t dam the flow.

I was crying, and Rick was crying too.

I heard Caine say, “Thank you,” and the judge asked Dexter Lewis if he had any questions.

And you know what? He did.

ADA DEXTER LEWIS said, “Do you need a minute, Mr. Morgan?”

“No, thanks. I’m okay.” I blew my nose. Cleared my throat.

Lewis said, “Is there anything else you’d like to say about the defendant?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Does Mr. Del Rio stop traffic for ducklings? Send paychecks home to his mom?”

Caine was on his feet with an objection. “The prosecution is badgering the witness, Your Honor.”

“Sustained.” Judge Johnson looked at Lewis, said, “Don’t do that, Mr. Lewis. Treat the witness with respect. This is a warning.”

“Sorry, Your Honor.”

“Ask your next question, Mr. Lewis.”

“Mr. Morgan, did I understand you to say that you overheard Mr. Del Rio promise to be with Corporal Young’s wife when she gave birth to her child?”

“That’s right.”

“Did he? Go to Lubbock, Texas, to be with Mrs. Young?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Well, I know, Mr. Morgan. And I believe you do too. Sheila Young gave birth to a daughter on March twenty-ninth of 2003. Danielle. Do you remember where Mr. Del Rio was at that time?”

“Yes.”

“Speak up, Mr. Morgan.”

“Yes. I know where he was.”

“Please share that information with the jury.”

Caine was on his feet again. “Relevance, Your Honor?”

“Overruled, Mr. Caine. Your witness opened the door. Go ahead, Mr. Morgan. Answer the question.”

“Rick was at Chino.”

“Why was Mr. Del Rio in prison, if you can remember?”

“He robbed a liquor store.”

“Let’s see. Mr. Del Rio was convicted on three counts,” Lewis said, as if he were reading notes written on his palm. “Breaking and entering. Armed robbery. Larceny. Guilty, guilty, guilty.

“I believe you spoke for Mr. Del Rio at that trial too, didn’t you, Mr. Morgan? Played the hero card? Helped get him a break on his sentence?”

I didn’t answer.

“Please answer, Mr. Morgan. Did you give testimony as to Mr. Del Rio’s heroic acts in Afghanistan at his trial?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. So, not to rub it in, Mr. Morgan, just to state the facts: Mr. Del Rio is an ex-con, isn’t he?”

“Objection,” Caine shouted.

“I withdraw the question. Are you and Mr. Del Rio still close friends?”

“Yes.”

“Did Mr. Del Rio ever say anything to you about wanting to get back at Victoria Carmody for dumping him?”

“No.”

“Did he spy on her, Mr. Morgan? Did he use any of Private’s famous space-age spyware on Ms. Carmody? Did he follow her around? Did he stalk her?”

“Objection,”
Caine said. “Once again, Mr. Lewis is badgering the witness. I move to strike, Your Honor.”

Judge Johnson shoved papers aside, asked Dexter Lewis, “Is there any basis for this line of questioning? Do you have evidence to show that Mr. Del Rio was spying on Ms. Carmody?”

“Your Honor, Private Investigations is well known for unlawful activity. It’s what they do. If Mr. Del Rio was surveilling Ms. Carmody without a court order, then the jury needs to know—”

“Move on, please, Mr. Lewis.”

“That’s all I have for this witness.”

The judge said to me, “Thank you for your service, Captain Morgan. You may stand down.”

I stood up and walked across the well, meaning to put my hand on Rick’s shoulder as I passed him, but Rick wasn’t looking at me. He was whispering fiercely to Caine.

Caine stood and said, “I’d like to request a recess, Your Honor.”

Del Rio jumped to his feet and shouted, “We don’t need a recess, Judge. I want to testify and my lawyer doesn’t agree. But it’s my right to do it and I demand my rights.”

I shouted, “Rick.
No
.”

The judge banged the gavel, and the noise in the gallery sounded like a tornado rumbling down the interstate. There was more gavel banging, and I could hear the little dog go nuts under the bench.

Finally, a tense silence came over the room.

Judge Johnson sent the jury out, and when they were gone, she said, “Consult with your attorney, Mr. Del Rio. After that, if you want to testify, you will be heard.”

DEL RIO CROSSED the room and held up his right hand, put his left on the Bible. He swore to tell the truth, and it was a safe bet he would.

But was it a
smart
bet? That, I didn’t know.

I was emotionally raw, still reeling from dragging into court brave, dead men who had many times over earned the right to rest in peace. I was furious about Lewis’s attack on Del Rio, and now the ADA had badgered Rick into testifying for himself against Caine’s advice.

Del Rio looked like the man he was: rough-hewn, volatile. Maybe the jurors would also see my friend, a man who was so loyal, he stayed to say good-bye to the dead.

Caine approached Del Rio, said, “Mr. Del Rio, were you in love with Vicky Carmody?”

“No. I was not.”

“How did you feel about her?”

“She was a nice girl. I mean, woman. She was a nice woman. She was very sweet.”

“How long were the two of you involved?”

“I don’t really know to the day or anything. But most it could be was six months.”

“Was Ms. Carmody in love with you?”

“Nah. She liked me, but she was ready to get married and have babies, and I’m the wrong guy for that.”

“So did she break off the relationship?”

“Yeah. You don’t hurt a girl like Vicky. I might have let her see enough of my rough side that she would make the decision.”

“So you weren’t angry with her?”

“Not at all.”

“On June fourteenth, the night in question, did you go to Ms. Carmody’s house?”

“Yes. I did.”

“And tell the court what happened.”

“I came over. I parked in her driveway. I saw the UPS guy across the street, so I waved to him.”

Rick smirked. I wished he hadn’t done that.

“Then what happened?”

“I think Vicky waved to him too. Then she let me in the house.”

“Please go on.”

“She made tea. I got a beer from her fridge. We had some uncomfortable small talk, and I gave her back her camera. Then I kissed her cheek on the way out the door. I told her to take care. She said, ‘You too.’

“I drove home. I went into my house and took a six-pack into the living room and I watched a ball game. I woke up on the couch and it was about two. I went to bed. Next day, I went to work.”

“Did you ever get into a fight with Vicky?”

“No. Well, I may have done a little shouting. Where I come from, shouting is like belching. It doesn’t mean anything. But I never hit her. I never threatened to hit her. I never would. I’ve never hit a woman in my life.”

I thought Rick’s testimony had gone pretty well, but now Caine had to turn the witness over to the other side.

I had a very sick feeling thinking about that.

DEL RIO LOOKED confident, bordering on smug. I knew this look. It wasn’t really confidence—it was his way of signaling his rage before he went crazy.

I wanted to sit him down and talk to him. I wanted to get right in his face and shout,
Don’t blow this.

But Rick didn’t hear my silent scream. He just squared himself in the witness box and sat back as ADA Dexter Lewis crossed the courtroom to him.

“Mr. Del Rio, please state your full name.”

“Rick Del Rio.”

“Is that Rick for Richard?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the name you were born with?”

“I was born Ricardo Esteban Del Rio. Okay? Born in California, U.S.A.”

The ADA’s question was provocative, but it was smart and ethical. He was showing the jury that Rick could have aliases, that he wasn’t even truthful about his name. But Rick had taken it as an ethnic slur. Twenty feet from where I was sitting, a fuse had been lit.

“Okay, Mr. Del Rio. Where’d you meet Ms. Carmody?”

“Online.”

“In some kind of matchmaker chat room?”

“That’s right.”

“And on your first date, did you take her out to dinner?”

“You know what I did. I took her to Santa Anita. She bet on a winner. It made her happy.”

“And what did you like most about her?”

“She had a nice personality. She said she thought I was interesting.”

“Interesting? Is that right? So you told her that after you got out of the military, you were convicted of robbery, spent four years at Chino, and now you did a lot of sneaking around with cameras and such in your job as a private eye?”

Caine said from his seat, “Your Honor. Is there a question somewhere in that pile of garbage?”