Private Vegas (Private 9)

“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.”

Chapter 65

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.”