Daniels adjusted his glasses.“No.Fairly standard.There are thousands in circulation.”
Tripp nodded.He wanted the jury to hear that word,thousands.He paced slowly, letting it sink in before continuing.
“And when you examined this weapon for fingerprints, you found the gun had been wiped clean.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
“How could you tell it had been wiped clean?”
“There was gun cleaning residue left on the wooden grip of the thirty-eight.”
“It’s possible anyone could have had access to that weapon and fired it that night.”
“Whoever had access to the suspect’s home, yes.”
Tripp turned slightly, letting the jury see his face.Calm.Controlled.“So while the registration showed the weapon was purchased by Mrs.Reddick fifteen years ago, it was found in her son’s possession.”
“Yes.”
He gave a slight nod, then stepped back.“So to be absolutely clear: you cannot tell this jury who fired that weapon on the night Bianca Laurent was killed.”
“No, sir.”
“And you cannot tell this jury when Mrs.Reddick last touched it.”
“No, sir.”
“Thank you.No further questions.”
Tripp returned to the defense table, each step measured, every muscle coiled tightly.He lowered himself into his chair, keeping his face carefully blank.
But his chest burned.
Because Evelyn Reddick’s mask, cold, perfect, untouchable, had cracked for just a second when her name had been tied to the weapon.And Tripp knew that look.He’d seen it in his own mother’s eyes whenever she was cornered.
He forced his gaze back to Derrick, who was pale, eyes darting between his attorney and his mother.Panic radiated off him.Tripp leaned closer, murmuring low so only his client could hear.
“Stay calm.We’ve just planted reasonable doubt.”
Derrick swallowed hard, nodding.But the young man’s gaze slid back to Evelyn, and Tripp knew doubt had started to creep in for him too.
The judge cleared his throat, breaking the tension.“The witness may step down.”
Daniels rose, gathering his notes, oblivious to the storm he’d left behind.
Tripp straightened his papers, keeping his hands steady even as his mind spun.He had done his job, shifted the jury’s focus, reminded them that the evidence was circumstantial, and planted the idea that Derrick wasn’t the only possible suspect.
But the sight of Evelyn sitting there, unflinching, still gnawed at him.
Because while he had defended Derrick with skill, he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe the real danger wasn’t at the prosecution table at all.
Maybe it was sitting in the gallery, wearing pearls and a smile sharp enough to cut glass.
It was time to have a serious discussion with his client.Just as soon as they had a recess.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we’re going to conclude for today.Remember my admonishments: do not discuss the case with anyone, do not allow anyone to discuss it in your presence, and do not consume any media coverage related to the case.We’ll resume tomorrow morning at nine a.m.Court is adjourned.”
As soon as the judge banged his gavel, Tripp turned toward his client.They needed to talk now.
