But the truth was painfully obvious as Amanda presented facts.
The officer knew he was caught. “None. There was no weapon.”
Amanda hummed. “And you didn’t recover a weapon anywhere near him?”
“No,” the officer huffed.
Amanda’s voice sweetened. “Officer, in your report, how do you describe my client’s behavior when you found him?”
“I reported he was ‘startled and confused.’” The words were packed with anger.
It painted him in a bad light, especially when Amanda seemed so damn professional.
She’s winning the jurors.
She was going to do it!
“Not aggressive. Not violent. Not attempting to flee?” Amanda pressed, a smile playing on her lips.
“No.”
“You also wrote that my client said, quote, ‘I don’t know what happened. Someone told me to be here.’ Correct?” Amanda nodded to the clerk, who returned the nod.
I most definitely had not said that. But when the officer agreed, I didn’t correct him.
“Yes. That was his statement,” the officer grumbled.
The prosecutor leapt to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Hearsay.”
Amanda gave the attorney a confused look, faking every drop of it. “Goes to the defendant’s state of mind and spontaneous utterance. It’s admissible.”
“Overruled,” the judge decided. “The statement stands.”
Giving the judge a smile, Amanda turned back to the witness. “Officer, did you investigate who told my client to be at that location?”
“No.” He was in hot water, and he knew it.
“You had a man with no weapon, visibly confused — and you didn’t investigate why he was there?” Amanda insisted.
“He has a history of violence, your honor,” the prosecutor objected.
“Yes, we heard you the first time,” the judge sniped. “Continue, Mrs. Messina.”
“I repeat the question. You didn’t investigate why my client was there?” Amanda drilled.
The officer looked around for help. “I didn’t.”
Amanda bit her lip, narrowed her eyes. “Let me ask you this. Did you find any evidence — any at all — that my client lured the would-be victim to that scene?”
“We did not.”
“Did you find any messages from my client threatening the victim?” Amanda insisted.
“No.”
“Tell the court…whatdidyou find?” Amanda’s left hand brushed against her slacks.
Wiping the sweat.
