“How hard would it be to see his activity over the last couple of days?”
David didn’t answer but I could hear the clicks of his keyboard. He mumbled something to himself, then said, “No toll or carpool dings. He didn’t come across the Bay Bridge again to date, or any other toll stations in the Bay Area, it looks like.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m sorry, my dear. I can only see records of where his FasTrak was used.”
“You’re the best regardless, David. Thank you.”
“Good luck, beautiful.”
That didn’t get us very far. Eric could be anywhere. Except he was likely still somewhere in the East Bay. Then an unusual idea floated into my head. What about Jake Hunter, the kid who’d stolen Alain’s phone? He’d promised to help me if I ever needed it.
I gave Cindy a summary of what David had told me and concluded with “But I might have another way to narrow down where he is. Unofficially.”
“I’m amazed at how much you get done ‘unofficially.’ Go ahead, amaze me again.”
I pulled from my wallet the napkin Jake had given me, folded carefully, since I had not yet transferred the information into my cell phone. When I dialed his number, he answered on the first ring.
I said, “Jake, it’s Sergeant Lindsay Boxer. It’s time to pay your debt.”
All Jake said was “What do you need?”
CHAPTER90
YUKI CASTELLANO HADtried everything to get her witness to open up. The woman, in her early forties, was dressed in nice slacks and a matching jacket. Her hair was flawless. When Yuki had spoken to her before she was called to the stand, the woman sounded confident.
Yet during her time on the witness stand, the woman kept looking over at Elio Huerta and his crew. Somehow they’d gotten to her. She’d been standing ten feet away from Huerta when he shot a grocer. Yet she was unable to positively identify him. A gun had been fired twice in her presence. But she couldn’t recall if she actually heard it. Finally, the witness said she was probably confused when she talked to the arriving police officers at the time. She said she might have erroneously mentioned gunfire.
Her testimony was so skimpy, Angela Torres didn’t even bother with cross-examination. She just sat at the defense’s table, occasionally throwing a cute pose to the men on the jury. At least that’s how Yuki interpreted it. Someone as smart as Torres shouldn’tneed to pull stunts like that, but hey. Attorneys were always looking for an advantage.
Now Yuki let her witness step down.
Score one for the criminal scumbag and his attorney.
Yuki looked over at the defense’s table. Angela Torres had a smug smile on her face. She leaned in and spoke to her client. They shared a chuckle.
Torres stood up to address the court. “Given that about half of the prosecution’s witnesses haven’t shown up for court or never actually saw anything, I would like to move for a directed verdict. This mess needs to be dismissed.”
Yuki had heard these tactics a million times. The judge would just deny the request and she could move on. That’s why the judge sent a shock wave through her when he said, “I’ll take that under advisement, Counselor.” The judge paused. He added, “But keep in mind, Ms. Torres,Idetermine what’s dismissed in this courtroom.”
Angela Torres nodded her head vigorously.
Then Judge Cousins turned to Yuki and said, “Do we have reliable witnesses on the horizon, Ms. Castellano?”
“I have two expert witnesses today, Your Honor. The shooting victim, Roberto Paz, is scheduled to appear tomorrow morning.”
The judge said, “You can see where Ms. Torres has a point. I understand the difficulties of prosecuting multiple defendants, but I have to consider her request.”
Yuki nodded and said, “I understand, Your Honor.”
She needed to get through today with two relatively dry expert witnesses. The first was a doctor who would explain what a 9mm slug could do to a fifty-eight-year-old man’s spine. The second witness was a PhD in sociology who would explain to the jury thepsychology of a street gang and the need for them to protect their territory.
Yuki was waiting for Roberto Paz to take the stand. She pictured him being pushed into the courtroom by his youngest son. A man robbed of his mobility at age fifty-eight, and who now looked like he was seventy-five. All because he’d stepped out of his store and told Elio Huerta to sell drugs somewhere else.
That witness would be her home run swing. Or a huge swing and a miss. That’s what terrified her.
CHAPTER91
