Aster paced in front of the table. “Ms. Yardley’s daughter could get another answer to her question. She could hear, Yes, I’ll tell you when the system failed. When the jury didn’t even consider what beyond a reasonable doubt means, didn’t consider any contradictory evidence, didn’t question motive, and didn’t believe an innocent man. The system failed that day and took away a man’s life because the prosecution told them to do it.”
Aster stared at the jurors in silence a moment.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way. I mean, you could go back in that room and say, It’s good enough. We’ve got the evidence in his garage, good enough. Sure, it doesn’t make sense and there’s no motive, but the stuff was in the garage. Good enough. You could do that.
“Or you could go back there and really consider what beyond a reasonable doubt means, really take seriously that oath you gave to place your emotions aside and consider the evidence fairly. Really think about why our founding fathers gave us the Constitution—not to protect us from ourselves but to protect us from our government. But if you go back there and just say, Hell, good enough, lock him up and throw away the key, well, then Ms. Yardley is right . . . the system is a farce.”
Aster sat down. Weston leaned back in his chair and said, “First witness, Ms. Yardley.”
54
Yardley had Detective Garrett sworn in. He wore a freshly pressed suit, and his gun was in a holster on his hip, his badge around his neck on a lanyard. Yardley gave him a moment after swearing in to drink some water out of a paper cup.
“How are you, Detective?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good. Well, I’d like to go through some of your qualifications first, if we may. Please spell your name for the record and tell us a little bit about your background.”
Garrett did as she asked and looked at the jury while doing so. The mark of a witness who had spent a lot of time in court. He told them about his time in the army, his civilian police work, and his promotion to detective in the homicide division of the Sheriff’s Office. He recapped the trainings he’d provided to other detectives and the trainings he’d received from the DEA and FBI. Yardley also asked about what he liked to do in his spare time to relax so the jury got to know him. She limited the introductory questions to fifteen minutes to make sure she still had their full attention.
“Tell us about the case at hand, Detective.”
He described the initial call about Kathy Pharr, how he was sent to the scene and what he found. He then described what had happened with Angela River. Yardley glanced back once to see if River was in the courtroom, but she wasn’t.
“Detective, did you find any evidence linking these crimes to any other person besides Michael Zachary?”
“No, we did not.”
“Did you have another person of interest?”
“We did. Mr. Tucker Pharr was briefly a person of interest. In addition to his wife, his daughter—”
“Objection,” Aster said, rising. “May we approach?”
“Yes.”
Yardley leaned against the judge’s bench as Aster did the same. The judge hit a button that sent static through the courtroom speakers, and Aster said, “Your Honor, I would object to any mention of Mr. Pharr’s daughter as missing. It’s clearly more prejudicial than probative and has nothing to do with this case.”
“That’s nonsense,” Yardley said. “It’s clear that whoever killed Mrs. Pharr took Harmony Pharr as well. The jury should hear that.”
“What evidence will you be presenting that that’s the case?” Aster said.
“We’ll be presenting Tucker Pharr’s testimony, as well as Agent Baldwin’s, about the tree house she was abducted from and what they found.”
“In other words, nothing, Judge. She could have run away, and they have no evidence to present that would contradict that, other than she left her phone behind. This is just an attempt to inflame the jury. The jury would be prejudiced against my client just by the fact that a child is involved, and that’s exactly what Ms. Yardley is counting on.”
Weston considered it a moment. “Smells like bullshit, Ms. Yardley.”
“Judge, the disappearance is part of this case. There is no way she happened to disappear shortly after her mother was murdered. The probative value for the jury is that they can get a complete picture of the series of events.”
“Or she ran away,” Aster said, “and it has nothing to do with any of this.”
Weston shook his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t think it adds anything to the question of whether the defendant killed Mrs. Pharr and tried to kill Ms. River. I’m excluding any mention of Harmony Pharr or her kidnapping under Rule 403.”
“Your Honor—”
“That’s my ruling. Step back.”
Yardley avoided showing any reaction and went back to the lectern. “Detective Garrett, you were the one who actually found the evidence in this case, correct?”
“When we executed the search warrant on Michael Zachary’s premises, it was Special Agent Baldwin and myself who did the primary search, yes. I found the items taped underneath the chair in a room to the side of the garage.”
Yardley introduced photographs of the space as he spoke: the chair, the paintings, and the box the evidence was found in.
“When you and Agent Baldwin arrested him, what was the defendant’s response to the situation?”
“He was belligerent. He kept arguing with us, and at one point, he tried to slip away from me by pushing against me, and I had to pin him against the wall to double-lock the cuffs on his wrists. We then transported him to a nearby station for interview, but he wasn’t responsive. He was extremely nervous, kept fidgeting and looking around. His foot kept tapping against the floor in the obsessive manner of someone that was really anxious. Agent Baldwin exchanged a few words with him, which I’m sure he’ll discuss. The interview was the end of my involvement in this case.”
“Thank you, Detective, nothing further.”
Aster got up and leaned on the lectern. He watched Garrett a moment and then said, “You said my client was nervous, right?”
“Yes, he was very nervous.”
“You ever met him before this case, Detective?”
“No, I had not.”
“You ever talked to him on the phone?”
“No.”
“Ever seen a video of him before this case?”
“No, I had not.”
“So you couldn’t say what Dr. Zachary’s general level of nervousness or anxiety is at any point in the day, could you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“He could’ve been acting perfectly normal at the time you said he was nervous, but you wouldn’t know, would you?”
“Well, I can tell when someone is nervous. We’re trained to detect deception, and nervousness is one of the clues we look for.”
“People differ in levels of anxiety and nervousness, don’t they?”
He thought a moment. “Yes, they do.”
“And again, you don’t know Dr. Zachary’s general level of nervousness on any given day, do you?”
“I suppose not.”
“So you could not say whether he was feeling his normal level of nervousness on that particular day or not, correct?”
He glanced at Yardley. “I suppose not, but—”
“Thank you, Detective. I would appreciate if you answered honestly in front of the jury instead of attempting to be evasive.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You said he was combative, correct?”
Garrett glanced at Yardley again as though expecting her to do something about Aster interrupting him. “Yes.”
“You’d just arrested him for murder and kidnapping, yeah?”
“Yes, I had.”
“You ever been arrested for murder?”
“Of course not.”
“Would you agree it’s probably pretty traumatizing?”
“I would
n’t know.”
“Again, don’t be evasive, please, Detective. Would being arrested for murder be traumatizing? Would it shock someone?”
He glanced at the jury. Yardley thought it would be idiotic if Garrett denied this. He could lose credibility. He seemed to be taking too long to answer, so she stood up.
“Objection, Your Honor. This isn’t relevant to the case at hand.”
“Overruled.”
“Detective,” Aster said, “traumatizing, yeah? To be pulled out of work, have the cops tearing apart your house, and then be arrested for murder when Nevada carries the death penalty. Traumatizing, yes or no?”
Garrett glanced at the jury again. “Yes, it would be.”
“When people are traumatized, they don’t act perfectly rational, do they?”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.”
“They act nervous and anxious, yeah?”
“I suppose.”
“And if an innocent man is arrested for murder, which would be even more traumatizing, you wouldn’t expect him to act rational and calm, would you?”
“I don’t know.”
“If an innocent man were arrested for a murder he didn’t commit, you’d expect him to be nervous, yeah? Even extremely nervous?”
“I couldn’t say. Like I said, I’ve never been arrested for murder.”
“Huh. Yeah, well, we’ll get back to that.”
Yardley watched Aster a moment before turning back to Garrett. Aster was purposely trying to throw him off balance, but that murder remark gave her pause. It wasn’t customary for prosecutors to do background checks on the law enforcement officers they were putting up as witnesses, but just in case, she had run Garrett’s background and found his record was clean.
“Now let’s chat about this evidence you found under the chair. You were the one who actually found it, yeah?”
“Correct.”
“And you were searching the entire garage with Agent Baldwin and, I believe, three other deputies, correct?”
“Correct.”
“But you were the one who pulled off the tape and took the box out from under the chair?”
“I did.”
“And you showed it to Agent Baldwin.”
“I did. Yes.”
“Before you found it, Agent Baldwin and the other deputies didn’t know about it, correct?”
“Correct.”
“They didn’t see it until you had it in your hands?”
“Correct, I was the first one to locate it.”
“Detective, you ever fabricated evidence before in a case?”
“Of course not. That’s a stupid question, Counsel.”
Weston said, “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, Detective.”
“Sorry, Your Honor. It’s just—sometimes you get sick of these defense attorneys attacking good cops so they can get their scumbag clients off.”
Aster ignored his statement and said, “So you’ve never fabricated evidence?”
“No, I have not, Counsel.”
“Ever stabbed anybody?”
Yardley nearly laughed at how ridiculous the question was. Sometimes defense attorneys made up nonsense questions to put an image in the mind of the jurors, like, Have you ever done heroin? The attorney might not have any basis that the officer had ever done heroin, but the jury would wonder why the attorney had asked the question.
Garrett should have laughed, too, or become furious. He did neither. He flushed and gave Aster a hard stare. Something passed between the two of them that she wasn’t privy to. She rose quickly and said, “Objection. This entire line of questioning is irrelevant and inflammatory. I would ask the Court to instruct Mr. Aster to move on to questions about this case.”
“Whether the detective has ever tried to murder someone and fabricate evidence is extremely relevant, Your Honor, considering he was the one who allegedly found the primary pieces of evidence against Dr. Zachary.”
“Do you have a basis for asking these questions, Counsel?”
“I do. Just need a little bit of leeway.”
“A little bit, Mr. Aster. No more.”
He nodded and turned back to Garrett. “Ever stabbed anyone, Detective?”
“No,” he said sternly, his gaze never leaving Aster.
“Ever been accused of stabbing someone and trying to cast blame on someone else for the crime?”
“No,” he said with fury in his eyes.
Aster watched him a moment, and Yardley could tell he was debating something.
“No further questions right now, Your Honor.”
“Very well. Ms. Yardley, any redirect?”
“None.”
“Then you may be excused, Detective Garrett.”
Aster said, “Your Honor, we would ask to call a rebuttal witness.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Kimberly Alley is her name now. She was at one time Mrs. Kimberly Garrett.”
Yardley rose. “Sidebar.”
Weston nodded, and the two of them went up. Yardley said, “I would object to this witness unless she has something material to add to this case.”
Weston said, “I don’t like fishing expeditions, Mr. Aster.”
“I’m not fishing, Judge. Detective Garrett got up there and said he has never been accused of stabbing anyone and never been accused of fabricating evidence. Neither of which is true.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Yardley said.
“Then you got nothing to lose by agreeing to let her testify.”
Yardley held his gaze a second and decided he wasn’t bluffing. Something was there. “I want to interview her first before she takes the stand.”
“That’s not how impeachment witnesses work, Your Honor. The evidentiary rules are clear that if someone lies on the stand, the opposing party can call a rebuttal witness with no notice to opposing counsel. The presumption is that the opposing party should have known their own witness was going to lie and shouldn’t need time to prepare.”
Weston sighed. “This better not be bullshit, Counselor. I need a cigarette and don’t want to sit here through bullshit feeling jittery.”
“It’s not.”
“Then I’ll allow her to testify, but if I feel it’s bullshit at any point, I’m shutting you down.”
Yardley said, “Your Honor, I deserve to have a brief recess to interview this witness. We filed a reverse discovery request, and Mr. Aster never mentioned a word about a Mrs. Kimberly Alley. Unless he just found out about her a moment ago, I should have been given some notice that she was a potential impeachment witness. Even if it was right before Detective Garrett’s testimony.”
Aster said, “I’d like Ms. Yardley to point me to one statute or evidentiary rule that says I have to give any notice for an impeachment witness. It’s a bullshit argument because she didn’t dig deep enough into the detective’s background and now—”
“The reverse discovery specifically asked for any potential impeachment witnesses. You purposely withheld this from me so you could—”
“Calm down, both of you.” Weston blew out a long breath as he thought. “No, let’s just get this over with. Request denied, Ms. Yardley. If he’s lying, you should’ve known it.”
“Your Honor—”
“Request denied. Don’t make me put you on my shit list like Mr. Aster here.”
Aster said, “I’m hurt, Judge. I thought we were friends.”
Weston grimaced and said, “Just put her on so we can break.”
Yardley went back to the prosecution table. She motioned for Garrett to sit behind her on the bench reserved for other prosecutors. He did so, and she leaned back so they could whisper.
“What’s she going to say, Lucas?”
“Nothing good. But it’s all bullshit. I was cleared of everything. They didn’t even file a formal IAD notice.”
“Cleared of what?”
“Her boyfriend stabbed some gangster in their neighborhood and then hid the knife. They made up some ho
rseshit about it being me and that I broke into their condo and planted it. It was all a big show so she could get full custody.”
Yardley stared at him. Just as he had received training on detecting clues of deception, so had she, albeit hers was in graduate school in behavioral science clinics. He appeared calm and relaxed and gave lengthy answers to her questions. A sign of honesty. But he’d also had rage when Aster brought it up. Anger was a normal reaction to a false accusation; rage was not. And the fact that divorce and custody of his child had been in play complicated everything. It was too difficult to get a read on him.
“Did you have anything to do with it, Lucas? If you did, now’s the time to tell me because once it’s on the court record, it’s going to be public information.”
He looked over to Aster, and a sneer came to his lips. “Little prick bastard. I swear if we weren’t in a courtroom, I would—”
“Hey, let me worry about him. You worry about yourself. Tell me everything she’s going to say.”
The courtroom doors opened, and a bailiff brought in an attractive woman in a red dress. Garrett’s eyes went wide as he saw her, and his gaze followed her through the courtroom to the witness stand, where she was sworn in.
“Your Honor,” Yardley said as she rose to her feet, “I would request a brief recess to confer with Detective Garrett.”
“Denied.”
“Then I would ask for a five-minute bathroom break.”
“Denied. I’m not stupid, Ms. Yardley.”
“Some of the jurors might need to use the bathroom before we get into this.”
Weston turned to the jury. “Any of you need to use the bathroom?”
Yardley hoped someone would raise their hand, but no one did.
“Recess is denied,” Weston said. “Go ahead, Mr. Aster.”
Aster stepped toward the witness but stood near the jury, so when Kimberly Alley was looking at him, she appeared to be facing the jury and speaking to them directly.
“State and spell your name for the record, please.”
Crimson Lake Road (Desert Plains) Page 22