was no less than he deserved.
Not everybody saw it that way. Navarre was a celebrity. Reporters asked his opinion on everything from politics to who would win the latest reality competition on TV. Women sent him letters proposing marriage, and rumor had it that a famous literary agent was negotiating on Navarre’s behalf for a million-dollar book deal.
It went without saying that movie deals were in the works, too. Every Hispanic star in Hollywood wanted to play this poor, noble, victimized man. So did some of the black and Caucasian ones.
Alex hoped all of that would change once Navarre was convicted, so when Rutherford broke the news to her on the phone, she said, “Good. The sooner he’s behind bars so all this ridiculous hoopla can die down, the better.”
“You don’t understand, Chief,” Rutherford said grimly. “It’s not the criminal case against Navarre that got moved up. It’s the civil lawsuit he filed.”
Alex’s hand tightened on the phone as she leaned forward in the chair behind her desk. “What?” she demanded. “They’re going to try the civil suit
before
the criminal case?”
“That’s right.”
“But… but things aren’t done that way.”
“They are now,” Rutherford said. “The judge in the criminal case has been dragging his feet all summer, and everybody knows it. He doesn’t
want
to try the case. He knows that no matter what he does, he’s going to be in trouble with somebody. If you ask me, he wants the civil court jury to weigh in first, so he’ll have some idea of how to proceed with the criminal case.”
“That’s crazy,” Alex responded, well aware of just how often she had made that statement this summer.
“Yes, but I’m just about to head over to the county seat for a meeting with the district attorney, the Justice Department attorney assigned to the case, and Pete McNamara’s personal attorney. Trial starts Monday.”
Alex knew Joe Gutierrez, the young man who was defending Pete McNamara. Joe’s dad, Manny Gutierrez, had practiced law in Home for thirty years and had been McNamara’s attorney for much of that time. He had taken his son into the firm with him after Joe graduated from the University of Texas law school a couple of years earlier. Then, six months later, Manny had dropped dead of a heart attack, leaving Joe to handle the practice.
Joe was a good kid, smart and ambitious, but Alex wasn’t sure he was any match for a shark like Clayton Cochrum.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Dave?” she asked.
“Not at this point. I’m sure you and your officers will be called to testify during the trial. All you can do then is tell the truth.”
“Do you think that’ll be enough?”
“I hope so. We have right on our side.” The hollow sound of Rutherford’s voice told Alex that he knew how naïve anybody would be to really believe that in this day and age. It used to be thought that whoever had the most money usually prevailed in legal proceedings. That had changed over the past few decades. Now it was whoever had the politicians and the media on their side who won most of the time.
“Innocent until proven guilty” had turned into “innocent until proven politically incorrect.” Once the media pundits and the Washington pontificators had rendered that verdict, it was the Salem witch trials all over again.
“Well, if you need anything, you let me know,” Alex told the city attorney.
“Will do,” Rutherford agreed. “Wish me luck, Chief.”
“Good luck,” Alex said.
But she had a bad feeling they were all going to need a lot more than luck to come through this unscathed.
C HAPTER 16
Monday, the day the case of Emilio Navarre’s civil lawsuit got underway, was also the first day of school. It was Jack Bonner’s senior year. One more year until he could shake the dust of this sleepy little town off his feet and start to live his life in some place more exciting and interesting. He had already applied to several
Not everybody saw it that way. Navarre was a celebrity. Reporters asked his opinion on everything from politics to who would win the latest reality competition on TV. Women sent him letters proposing marriage, and rumor had it that a famous literary agent was negotiating on Navarre’s behalf for a million-dollar book deal.
It went without saying that movie deals were in the works, too. Every Hispanic star in Hollywood wanted to play this poor, noble, victimized man. So did some of the black and Caucasian ones.
Alex hoped all of that would change once Navarre was convicted, so when Rutherford broke the news to her on the phone, she said, “Good. The sooner he’s behind bars so all this ridiculous hoopla can die down, the better.”
“You don’t understand, Chief,” Rutherford said grimly. “It’s not the criminal case against Navarre that got moved up. It’s the civil lawsuit he filed.”
Alex’s hand tightened on the phone as she leaned forward in the chair behind her desk. “What?” she demanded. “They’re going to try the civil suit
before
the criminal case?”
“That’s right.”
“But… but things aren’t done that way.”
“They are now,” Rutherford said. “The judge in the criminal case has been dragging his feet all summer, and everybody knows it. He doesn’t
want
to try the case. He knows that no matter what he does, he’s going to be in trouble with somebody. If you ask me, he wants the civil court jury to weigh in first, so he’ll have some idea of how to proceed with the criminal case.”
“That’s crazy,” Alex responded, well aware of just how often she had made that statement this summer.
“Yes, but I’m just about to head over to the county seat for a meeting with the district attorney, the Justice Department attorney assigned to the case, and Pete McNamara’s personal attorney. Trial starts Monday.”
Alex knew Joe Gutierrez, the young man who was defending Pete McNamara. Joe’s dad, Manny Gutierrez, had practiced law in Home for thirty years and had been McNamara’s attorney for much of that time. He had taken his son into the firm with him after Joe graduated from the University of Texas law school a couple of years earlier. Then, six months later, Manny had dropped dead of a heart attack, leaving Joe to handle the practice.
Joe was a good kid, smart and ambitious, but Alex wasn’t sure he was any match for a shark like Clayton Cochrum.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Dave?” she asked.
“Not at this point. I’m sure you and your officers will be called to testify during the trial. All you can do then is tell the truth.”
“Do you think that’ll be enough?”
“I hope so. We have right on our side.” The hollow sound of Rutherford’s voice told Alex that he knew how naïve anybody would be to really believe that in this day and age. It used to be thought that whoever had the most money usually prevailed in legal proceedings. That had changed over the past few decades. Now it was whoever had the politicians and the media on their side who won most of the time.
“Innocent until proven guilty” had turned into “innocent until proven politically incorrect.” Once the media pundits and the Washington pontificators had rendered that verdict, it was the Salem witch trials all over again.
“Well, if you need anything, you let me know,” Alex told the city attorney.
“Will do,” Rutherford agreed. “Wish me luck, Chief.”
“Good luck,” Alex said.
But she had a bad feeling they were all going to need a lot more than luck to come through this unscathed.
C HAPTER 16
Monday, the day the case of Emilio Navarre’s civil lawsuit got underway, was also the first day of school. It was Jack Bonner’s senior year. One more year until he could shake the dust of this sleepy little town off his feet and start to live his life in some place more exciting and interesting. He had already applied to several
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