A Gambler's Jury

by Victor Methos

  She hesitated and then opened the door. I walked in and took a seat at her dining room table. She stood quietly for a moment, waiting for me to begin. I stayed silent until she sat down. Will stood against the wall near the fridge, taking in the décor.

  I took the printout Michael had gotten me and slid it over to her. She looked down at it for a second. “What’s this?”

  “An inventory report from FHY. Your husband’s boss, Michael, was nice enough to provide it to us.”

  She looked up, her eyes wide with fear. A sound came out of her mouth, but she didn’t finish the word, if it was a word—it sounded more like a quiet gasp. She closed her mouth and pushed the sheet of paper back to me.

  “I don’t know what any of that means.”

  “Oh, it’s really interesting. See, FHY is authorized to do experimentation with controlled substances. The DEA provides various narcotics to them for testing for things like Alzheimer’s, autism, all sorts of stuff. They do a lot of experiments with cocaine, or at least they have been the last few years. They’re interested, according to Michael, in how cocaine affects metabolism and brain function. Just studies in rats so far.” I pushed the sheet of paper back toward her. “We asked Michael about it and he said Robert, your husband, is in charge of the inventory. So we had him go back and look through the logs, and it turns out all the books matched up in the computer. Until you actually weighed the cocaine. Then they didn’t match up. Apparently the company’s been receiving more cocaine than it has in its stock. The last time it was short, it was by eight kilos. The same amount Teddy gave to Zamora that night. Weird coincidence, don’t you think? Oh and the guy Teddy gave the coke to, apparently a friend of his is a janitor at FHY. Weird, right?”

  I leaned forward, staring into her eyes, which had the same expression as those of an animal stuck in a trap.

  “You knew what your husband was doing, and you let Teddy go down for it anyway. You were forcing him to sell.”

  She shook her head. “No . . . no, I would never do that.”

  “Michael’s pulling the security videos right now. Doesn’t have all of them yet, but we did find a nice one of Robert putting multiple wrapped squares of cocaine into a gym bag at the end of March. Imagine that. He was on camera stealing cocaine at the end of March and Teddy got busted on April second.”

  She swallowed and looked down at the paper. “I didn’t want him to do it,” she said softly. “Because he was disabled and underage, Robert thought that nothing would happen even if he did get caught.”

  “How many times did he make Teddy do it?”

  She swallowed. “Five or six I think. He would have Teddy call to set things up and Robert would tell him what to say. Teddy just . . . he wasn’t supposed to ask Kevin for a ride. He was supposed to wait for an Uber like he did all those other times. It wouldn’t have changed anything but at least those other boys wouldn’t have gotten in trouble. I think Teddy wanted to spend time with the boys because he thought they were his friends.”

  Her eyes were wet with tears now.

  “You don’t know what it’s like. We’ve spent all our savings on his care. Special schools, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists . . . it never ends. The government programs don’t pay for much. We did everything we could. I tried to stop it from happening, but Robert said it was risk free, that the cocaine was untraceable and no one but some drug addicts would be getting harmed.”

  I gave a sad little grin. “Pretty stupid to use a bag with his company logo on it then, isn’t it?”

  “Robert never was good at breaking the rules.” She wiped the tears away from her eyes. “He said nothing would happen to Teddy because he was young and disabled. I knew that wasn’t true. That’s why I forced him out of the house at eighteen. I knew that Robert would make him keep selling and I didn’t want to risk it. I did that for him.”

  “Yeah, you’re a real mother of the year.” I folded my arms. “Where is Robert? He wasn’t at work today.”

  “He’s fishing.”

  “Get him back here. I don’t care how. Some agents from the DEA field office are on their way down here and they want to have a little chat.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want any of this. It was just . . . we were going to lose our house. Robert thought that this would be an easy way to . . .”

  “Riley, your son is going to go to prison. Do you understand that? He was convicted yesterday. He’s in there for something your husband forced him to do. It’s called duress. It’s a defense for the type of crime he was convicted of. I think if you come forward, I can file—or someone else can file—an appeal and have him retried. The Hoover County attorneys might even just dismiss the case.” I paused and watched her. “They don’t actually need you. The discrepancies and the videos will be enough. But if you cooperate, maybe they’ll consider not filing charges against you, too.”

  It was true; her cooperation wasn’t required. We already had enough to get the verdict nullified on appeal and at the very least get Teddy a new trial. If nothing else, the appellate attorney could run this up to the federal courts away from Utah and list all the violations Roscombe committed and the new evidence. The Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals might just overturn the verdict without a retrial. I could also present the new evidence to Roscombe before sentencing and ask for a judgment notwithstanding the verdict, which meant that he could overrule the jury and find Teddy not guilty. Given the new evidence and the media attention I was about to bring to the case through Clay from the Salt Lake Tribune—who was flabbergasted at the verdict—Roscombe might just crack.

  But I wanted to make sure it would happen. Absolutely sure. And if Riley cooperated and gave a full confession of how Teddy had been forced to engage in drug dealing because he didn’t understand what was occurring, I knew I could get him out.

  She sat still a long time before speaking. “Okay . . . okay. For Teddy, I’ll help you. I owe him that much.”

  “You owe him a helluva lot more than that, but it’s a start.” Her cell phone was on the table and I slid it across to her. “Call your husband and get him back here.”

  While Riley called, with Will making sure she said what she was supposed to say, I sat out on the porch. I couldn’t help but think of my own mother. Had she forced me out of the house for what she thought was a similar reason? To protect me? I didn’t remember much about my mother. Maybe she was a drug addict who knew she didn’t want that life for me. Maybe she was lazy—it was hard raising a child and she just wasn’t woman enough to do it. She was wrong; Riley was wrong—but I felt sorry for them both.

  I rose and went back inside.

  59

  I didn’t think it’d be proper for me to stick around for the arrest. I didn’t want any sort of impropriety on this. So Will and I parked down the block and watched. It was late in the evening when Robert got home. The two DEA agents were already inside the house waiting for him. About twenty minutes after he got home, he came out with his head down, each agent holding an arm. They got into the black SUV the agents had shown up in and drove away.

  “Holy shit,” Will said. “I can’t believe you did that. Your client was convicted and you still might get him off.”

  “I can’t believe his parents did that to him.”

  “I told you, you don’t know what anyone is capable of. Not really. I don’t know, though. I feel for the parents, too. Can you imagine raising a kid like Teddy? How much effort and time and money it would take? Maybe they just felt like they were owed a little something, too.”

  “If they had paid attention to him, they would have seen that they got more than they put in.” I started the Jeep. “I need to draft a motion for a judgment notwithstanding the verdict. Roscombe might deny it, but you never know. If he denies, I’m going to give this to an appellate attorney I trust. There’s so much evidence now I think any appellate judges Sandy had in her pocket won’t want any part of this.”

  “Hey,” he said, placing his hand on m
y arm before I put the car in drive. “Nice work. I mean that. No other lawyer would’ve gone through all this shit for that kid. I think it’s really cool that you did this.”

  We watched each other a second, and then I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “I know. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  He removed his hand and put on his sunglasses. “All right, drop me off at the Lizard. I’m going to start the celebrations while I wait for you.”

  “Thought you were heading to Fiji today.”

  “I cancelled my flight for now. Thought maybe I should stick around a little longer. You know, make sure you’re okay. I can always reschedule.”

  “I’m, um . . . I’m glad. I mean, I’m glad that you’re staying for now.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad, too.”

  60

  As I had expected, Roscombe denied the judgment notwithstanding the verdict. It was basically a motion that said the jury got it wrong and it needed fixing. The day he denied it, I filed an interlocutory appeal and asked for an expedited review because my client was in custody and a susceptible inmate, meaning he could be hurt if the court of appeals didn’t hurry.

  The appeal included a sworn affidavit from Riley, Robert’s confession to the DEA, and a letter from the US Attorney’s Office indicating they would be pursuing charges against Robert ranging from distribution of a controlled substance, theft, fraud, and burglary to exploitation of a vulnerable minor. They would not pursue any charges against Teddy.

  I sent a copy of the appeal to Sandy. I wished I could’ve been there when she saw it. Expletives must’ve flown, and at least one or two pens were thrown, I was sure.

  I also called every media outlet I could and gave interviews. The story of the father using his disabled child to sell drugs became the talk of Utah and was even on a few national outlets. One night, I saw a picture of Sandy on a news website as she pushed past reporters to get into a courthouse. Apparently the Utah State Bar had opened an investigation into her for inappropriate conduct. Someone had sent them an audio recording of Sandy discussing getting more blacks and Latinos convicted of felonies to prevent them from voting. The other female voice on the recording couldn’t be identified, according to the Salt Lake Tribune.

  Within ten days, the court of appeals had granted my interlocutory appeal. At that point, I gave the case to David Isaacson, an attorney I trusted, and he ran with it. It would’ve been improper for the trial attorney to appeal, since one of the claims would also have to be ineffective assistance of counsel. It was a standard claim filed on any appeal, saying the lawyer could’ve done more.

  Four days after I had handed the case off, they reversed the jury verdict and arranged for a new trial based on unethical prosecutorial conduct and judicial misconduct. Rather than try Teddy again, the State dismissed. Anywhere else, Sandy would have been removed from office, but that never happened in Hoover County. She was kept on as the district attorney. The only hope of removal was if the Bar suspended or disbarred her. I didn’t care about that, though. Right then, the only thing I cared about was that Teddy would be freed.

  When he was released from jail, I was the only one there to greet him. He came out in the clothes he had gone in with, and when he saw me, he grinned and ran up to me. I thought he would hug me but instead he went into a detailed account of the latest episode of Lost that they had let him watch through the cell door. I waited until he finished before I hugged him, and he hugged me back. We got into my Jeep.

  “Where we going, Danielle?”

  “We’re going the hell away from here, buddy. And we are never coming back.”

  61

  Kelly and I sat on her porch with beers in our hands. She had the radio on inside, something by Adele playing, and guys kept texting her.

  “You are the popular one, aren’t you?” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s kinda boring though. One date after another. It just gets old. And guys now don’t want to commit to anything. It’s like they’re all fifteen years old and just looking to get laid as many times as they can. It’s annoying being out on the dating scene. I just wish I had something like you and Will.”

  “Me and Will? We’re just friends.”

  She chuckled. “You are so brutally honest with everyone but yourself, aren’t you?” She took a sip of beer. “You remember that first day we met at my former firm? You walked in by yourself to a deposition that had ten attorneys on the other side. They thought they were going to intimidate you, but you scared the shit out of all of them. I thought you were a superhero. But even superheroes can only be alone for so long. You need someone, Dani. Will is crazy in love with you, and I think you love him, too.”

  I looked out into the road. “I don’t even know what love is anymore. The one guy in my life I loved, I broke his heart. Maybe it wasn’t love at all? Maybe you don’t do that to people you love.”

  “Or maybe you’re a human being and you make mistakes.”

  I sighed and looked her up and down. “You’re pretty wise for someone that still has stuffed animals on her bed.”

  We tapped beers and my phone buzzed. It was a text from Will that just said: Did I mention already how proud I am of you?

  I smiled and took another sip of beer.

  62

  Jack looked me over. He adjusted something on my dress, pulling it down farther over my stockings. He eyed me like a sculptor looking at a piece of marble as we stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom.

  “Jack, maybe I shouldn’t go to this.”

  “I think you should, Mom.”

  “I mean, neither of them want me at this thing.”

  “Yeah, but I want you there.”

  I exhaled loudly. “Fine. I’ll stay for the vows and leave after that.”

  “Stay for the party, too.”

  “I don’t think I have that in me, pal. Sorry.”

  “Okay, just the vows.”

  I checked myself in the mirror one more time. I had butterflies in my stomach and that tightening feeling in my chest. I thought about maybe checking on Teddy one last time. It had taken several weeks to arrange, but he was now set up in an apartment with another kid from his class. I’d helped them move in. They had a giant whiteboard with all the dates written on it of the bills to be paid and the chores that needed to be done. They took turns washing dishes and cooking and cleaning. They did everything on their own. Something almost no one, certainly not Teddy’s parents and not even me, thought they could do. Kelly had been right: he just needed a chance to grow.

  Teddy’s schoolwork was going well, and his teacher even said in a year or two he could go to the community college. When I asked what he wanted to do, he said, “I want to be a lawyer.”

  I didn’t talk him out of it.

  “We’re gonna be late, Mom.”

  “I’m coming.”

  Peyton and Stefan’s wedding took place on the top of a cliff overlooking Big Cottonwood Canyon. It was about as serene and picturesque as anyone could imagine. Peyton’s family was there, seemingly hundreds of them, and Stefan’s parents had flown in as well. They didn’t say hello to me.

  Stefan wore a black tux. When we had gotten married, we had no money for anything. He’d worn an old suit he’d bought at a secondhand store. Seeing him here, like this, I was reminded that those were the best times we might ever have—when we were dirt-poor and happy.

  The wedding began. Jack and I sat in front. My heart pounded away as Stefan stood at the altar. For a moment, we held each other’s gaze. Then the music started playing and Peyton came out. She strode down the aisle with a wide smile, her father next to her. She stood before Stefan and they stared into each other’s eyes. My chest tightened as the priest spoke. The magic words came and I saw Stefan look at me . . .

  “Do you take her to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”

  He hesitated and I
couldn’t breathe. He looked at me again . . . and I knew I had to let him go. This wasn’t my happily ever after; this was his. And I wasn’t going to ruin it for him. I smiled at him and nodded. He didn’t make a gesture or say anything, but he didn’t have to. I knew he understood me.

  “I do.”

  The priest continued and said the same thing to her.

  “I do,” she said.

  I grinned. I loved him, and I wanted him to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.

  Everyone cheered and they kissed. I put my arm around Jack, and he kissed me on the cheek. Will sat next to me and he put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. We looked at each other and he said, “You’re much prettier than her, you know.”

  I chuckled.

  After the ceremony, I took the tiger’s head out of the trunk of my car, and waited until Stefan was alone before I went up to him. I handed it to him. “It’s Peyton’s. I’m sure she wants it back.”

  “Thanks.”

  I nodded and looked down at his buffed and polished shoes. “It was nice. This whole thing was just . . . nice. I’m glad you’re happy, Stefan.”

  “I know.” He hesitated. “You still moving to Los Angeles?”

  “Um . . .” I glanced back to Will. “You know, someone told me that the system needs people like me to fight. We have a lot of people like me in LA. Not as many here. Maybe I’ll stick around a little longer.”

  “I know Jack will be happy to hear it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He swallowed and looked out over the people. “I’m sorry about my parents.”

  “Oh, don’t be. Your mom always hated me anyway.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “The first time she met me, she asked if I’d ever been to prison.”

  “I mean . . . you were hungover.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “That’s what hungover means. You just got out of San Quentin.”