Chapter 90
RICK HAD HIS butt in his hard seat behind the defense table, and Caine was sitting beside him in a chair on the aisle. Now there was a badass cop sitting right behind Rick, keeping his eyes on the back of his head, ready to leap over the bar and throw him to the floor if he got out of his chair.
The cop was assigned because of the shots Rick took at Dexter Lewis. Lucky for him that Lewis, that prick, hadn’t revoked his bail, or he would’ve spent his weekend in the Men’s Central Jail, protecting his ass and trying not to get puked on by drunks.
Today, both sides were going to give their closing arguments, and then the jury would decide if Rick would be either (a) living in his house on the canal, working with Cruz and Jack, leading the good life, or (b) spending ten years in a cell, eating slop, being strip-searched, goaded, insulted. Having a murderous thug for a cellie—or worse.
And why was he in this jam?
Because that shit, Sutter Brown Truck, had put him at the scene of a crime he hadn’t committed. He wasn’t just innocent, he was as innocent as a little baby lamb. He was a retired officer of the U.S. Marine Corps, for God’s sake. He’d seen action. He was decorated.
This whole pile of crap about Vicky was a frame.
And that made Rick want to lunge across the aisle and punch Dexter Lewis’s face again. If he was found guilty, he just might do it.
There was a soft whoosh of robes as the judge came through the door behind the bench. The bailiff told everyone to rise, and they did, and then everyone sat down. In that moment, Rick turned his head, looked to see who had come to the show.
Jack was behind him, four rows back, and Cruz, his partner, was standing in the rear of the room, giving him a nod. Rick snapped his head to the front so that his friends wouldn’t see him get emotional, for God’s sake.
Caine put his hand on Rick’s arm, said, “You okay?”
“Dandy.”
“Something happened last night. I’m gonna take a shot.”
“At what? A shot at what?”
Before the bailiff could bring in the jury, Caine was on his feet. He said to the judge, “Your Honor, I want to put a witness on the stand.”
“Didn’t you rest your case on Friday?” said the judge.
“Something came up over the weekend Your Honor. The defense wants to call Bradley Sutter.”
Rick couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Brad Sutter, the UPS guy? That guy hated him, and now Brown was going to testify for him? That was crazy.
Lewis stood up, said, “Your Honor, we know nothing about this witness—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Lewis. Mr. Sutter was your witness. You know everything about him. Or you should.”
“I meant, I don’t know what this new testimony is about.”
“Well, that’s the nature of news breaking over the weekend, isn’t it, Mr. Lewis? I guess we’re all going to find out at the same time. Please sit down. Bailiff, please bring in the jury.”