03_Cornered Coyote

by Dianne Harman

  “Do you think Maria knew he was piping an illegal drug into the rooms of the motel guests?”

  “I can’t believe she didn’t know about it. She ran the motel. She had to know about it. Certainly she was benefitting from it. We know he gave her an anti-aging hormone. I mean, think about it. He lost his chance of receiving a Nobel Prize, one of the most prestigious awards in the world, because of her paranoia about aging. So we have drugs, no witnesses, a ‘person of interest’ who leaves the country, four million dollars, someone who changes her name to escape detection, and a woman who is so beautiful men can’t help falling in love with her, even a policeman who should know better. It seems to me Maria Brooks had a number of reasons to kill her husband. Who knows? She might even have the drug formulas and is looking for the right opportunity to sell them.”

  “So, let me get this straight, Mr. Swayze, it is your professional opinion that Maria Brooks will be convicted of murdering her husband, is that correct?”

  “Yes. I don’t see how a jury can do otherwise unless there is some blockbuster piece of evidence that the defense will introduce. As the facts stand now, I think it’s all over. How much time Maria Brooks will spend in prison is the big question.”

  Jordan turned off the television and went to bed. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew how hard this was on Maria, but it wasn’t any easier for him. If the attorney was right, he was going to have to start thinking about raising a child by himself. Maria had more or less told him she wouldn’t consider having an abortion. Part of him wanted their child, but the other part of him had no idea how he would raise one by himself.

  The next morning was no better. When he opened the paper, he saw the headlines, “Maria Brooks Trial Drawing to a Close-Conviction Seems Certain.” There were pictures of a very beautiful Maria, him as he left the courthouse with a grim look on his face, Jeffrey when he worked at Moore Labs, and several others. The article was almost as bad as the ones that had been in the Celebrity Spotlight tabloid.

  He made himself some scrambled eggs and toast and then threw them out after one bite. Food didn’t interest him. He wondered what new revelations would come out today. Brian had been right. Marsha had been tenacious and even though he was a layman, it seemed to him that she was scoring some serious points with the jury.

  CHAPTER 39

  “The defense calls as its next witness, Douglas Ritchie.”

  “Mr. Ritchie, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to testify in this trial. I’d like to start by asking you to tell the court how you happened to stay at the Blue Coyote Motel.”

  “My life was a mess. I’m a salesman and I couldn’t make my sales quotas. I was fat, liked the hooch too much, smoked, had high blood pressure, and I’d gotten into the habit of banging hookers. Nice picture, huh?” The jury seemed riveted by Doug’s disclosure. The man sitting before them bore no resemblance to the man he’d just described.

  “My ex-wife was constantly harassing me about the back alimony I owed her, and I was really, really lost. I was on the way to LA from Phoenix after another day of making sales calls and not selling anything. My car started acting up. I had to get it fixed and the only place around was some little gas station in the desert. The owner recommended I stay at the nearby Blue Coyote Motel because the part he needed to fix my car wouldn’t be delivered until the following day. He loaned me his truck and I drove to the motel. I remember meeting Maria. She was so beautiful she took my breath away. She was also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. A few hours later I started to feel better and by the next morning, I felt great. After the stay, I became the top salesman at my company, gave up smoking, pretty much gave up drinking, got in shape, and fell in love with a wonderful woman. We got married and just recently found out she’s expecting.”

  “Congratulations. I understand you went back to the Blue Coyote Motel over Memorial Day weekend. Would you tell the court why?”

  Doug took a long drink of water and held the bottle in his hand. Everyone could see he was struggling. His knuckles were white. “It all unraveled when I was in Las Vegas several months later, making sales calls. I couldn’t sell anything and I ended up drunk in my hotel room with a prostitute who stole money from me.” He stopped, noticing the surprised look on the faces of the jury. “I’m not very proud of what I did in Vegas. I knew something was really wrong and decided to go back to the Blue Coyote Motel where I‘d felt so good. Over the Memorial Day weekend I met the other guests who have testified in this trial.”

  “Thank you Mr. Ritchie. I know this is difficult for you. Would you tell the court how you met Jeffrey?”

  “Yes. As the others have testified, the six of us went down to his basement laboratory. Jeffrey met us and gave us a tour of the lab and told us about his experiments and how he’d administered Freedom to us.”

  “What was your impression of Jeffrey Brooks when you met him?”

  “Quite frankly, I thought he was crazy. He looked crazy, he acted crazy, and I was sure he was insane. So saying, he was my ticket to the drug. When the six of us met the next morning, I remember telling everyone I was going to buy the drug from Jeffrey. My life had turned around for the better because of it and at that time I would have done anything to keep getting it. I asked Jeffrey if I could pay him quarterly because I couldn’t afford to pay him the $20,000 he was asking in one lump sum.”

  “Mr. Ritchie, how did you find out that Jeffrey had died?”

  “I received a text from Sean. We’d exchanged phone numbers when we were out by the pool that Saturday. After the text, I called Sean because I knew I wouldn’t be able to get any more Freedom. I was pretty sure I was going to have some problems, so I joined Sean’s recovery group and we talk via Skype once a week. Because of their support, I’m drug-free and my life is going very well.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ritchie. Your witness, Counselor.”

  * * * * *

  “Mr. Ritchie, you are a salesman, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have you been a salesman?”

  “Well, if you count part-time when I was in high school and college, about twenty years.”

  “And am I correct that you have no medical background?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Well, if you have no medical background, how can you possibly make a judgment that someone is crazy or insane?”

  “Ms. Sinclair, it’s been my experience that if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck.”

  There was laughter throughout the courtroom. Several of the jurors covered their mouths, holding back laughter.

  “No further questions.”

  * * * * *

  “Dr. Begay, thank for driving over from the reservation and taking time off from what I understand is a very busy pediatric practice.”

  “Would you please tell the court how you first met Maria Brooks and how it was that you happened to stay at the Blue Coyote Motel?”

  “Yes, just like Jill, Sean, and Doug, I was having some personal problems. Even though I was almost finished with my medical studies, I had serious issues with anger management and my tribal mentor felt I needed to do a vision quest. I’m a Native American and he thought it would be good for me to do one.

  “After the vision quest, I became disoriented when I came down from the mountain and mistook the lights of the Blue Coyote Motel for my reservation. I was exhausted, thirsty, and hungry. I couldn’t go on. I opened the door to the office and I’ll never forget how calm Maria was when she greeted me, even though I was filthy and almost naked.” He turned and smiled at her. Maria remained devoid of any expression, sitting like a statue. She’d never heard Sam’s story or what had led him and the others to the Blue Coyote Motel. She only knew that instinctively she’d felt something for each of them.

  Although Sam seemed to be dispassionate as he told his story, the constant nervous motion of his jiggling knee told of an inner story as well. “She told me there
was a room available and even found some clothes for me to wear. I began to feel better and by the next morning, I felt wonderful. I left and soon became the director of the pediatric center on the reservation. I started shamanic training with my mentor and fell in love with a wonderful Native American woman. My life was really good for a few months and then it slowly went downhill. In a rage, I almost killed a man in a bar fight, and then I paid him to leave the area. I kicked and injured my beloved dog and had serious issues with a lot of people. I decided to return to the Blue Coyote Motel to see if I could salvage my life.”

  “Thank you, doctor. Please feel free to take a drink of water if you need to. When you’re ready, I’d like you to tell the court about the Memorial Day weekend.”

  “It is as the others described it. We spent Saturday around the pool and then met with Jorge and Sean in Sean’s room that evening. They told us their suspicions and then we met Jeffrey in his lab. In my professional opinion, he was insane. He was delusional and to my mind, anyone who thinks they are more important than Buddha, Christ, and Mohammed is not only a megalomaniac, they have separated themselves from reality.

  “I have seen what drugs can do to people. It’s pretty common knowledge that drugs and alcohol have taken a huge toll on Native Americans. I told the others that taking drugs was wrong and that anyone who would knowingly cause people to become addicted to drugs was insane. I remember telling Jill it was wrong for her to think that just because she was rich, it was all right for her to take the drugs. Later I regretted saying that, but at that time I would have said whatever was necessary to stop someone from knowingly taking an untested, illicit drug. I was angry and I was the first to leave the basement laboratory that morning. Sean gave me his card and I called him several months later.”

  “So in your professional opinion as a practicing physician, you felt that Jeffrey Brooks was insane, is that correct?”

  “Yes, without a doubt. Jeffrey Brooks was a madman who had lost touch with reality.”

  “Again, Dr. Begay, thank you for your time. Your witness,” Brian said, turning to Marsha.

  * * * * *

  “Dr. Begay, what type of a medical practice do you have?”

  “I am a pediatrician and the director of the pediatric center on the reservation.”

  “You are not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, is that correct?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Then any opinions you might have about Jeffrey Brooks’ sanity is not based on your training, is that correct?”

  “I am not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, but anyone who was around Jeffrey Brooks that Memorial Day weekend would have to assume he was insane.”

  “And I believe you just used the correct word – assume. That is not a hard fact. No more questions, Your Honor.”

  * * * * *

  “Maria, I’ve changed my mind,” Brian said. “I’m going to put you on the stand. Just answer my questions and tell the truth. You’ll be fine.” He gently squeezed her shoulder and stood up behind the counsel table.

  She looked at him, shocked. He’d told her all along that he’d never put her on the stand. She took a deep breath and her hands began to shake.

  “The defense calls Maria Brooks to the stand.”

  Every eye in the packed courtroom was on Maria as she stood up and made her way to the witness stand.

  “Please state your name for the record,” the clerk said as she administered the oath to Maria.

  “Ms. Brooks,” Brian said, “you have been charged with murdering your husband, Jeffrey Brooks. I would like you to tell the court what happened at the Blue Coyote Motel on the last day of Jeffrey’s life.”

  “Jeffrey had been acting very erratic. As you have heard, he gave the anti-aging hormone to me. He had stopped giving it to me as he descended into madness…”

  “Objection. The witness has not been qualified as an expert.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Ms. Brooks, did your husband appear to have gone insane?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please continue recounting the events of that afternoon.”

  “I was afraid he wouldn’t remember how to make the anti-aging formula or Freedom, the two drugs he’d discovered, because of what I thought was his descent into madness. On the day he died, I made his favorite meal and took it to him in his basement laboratory.”

  “Ms. Brooks, how did Jeffrey look that afternoon?”

  “He had a funny look in his eyes, he was wearing clothes that were filthy, he hadn’t shaved for days, and it seemed like he’d lost touch with reality. I hoped I could talk him into making the two drugs for me.”

  “So you took his favorite foods to him. What happened then?”

  “I gave them to him and he started eating with his hands like a wild animal. I begged him to make the drugs for me.”

  “He told me he hated me and he’d never again make the drugs for me. Jeffrey looked and acted totally strange and bizarre. He frightened me. There was a large butcher knife on the table next to him and he kept looking down at it.”

  “A knife has been introduced into evidence as Exhibit ‘A’. Is this the knife that you saw on the table next to Jeffrey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please continue.”

  “I was afraid of what he might do to me. I remembered that he kept a gun in a desk drawer because he was worried someone might try to steal his inventions. I backed over to the desk while he was eating and took the gun out of the drawer, hiding it behind my back. He grabbed the knife and came towards me, holding it over his head. He called me a fucking bitch and told me he was going to kill me. I was terrified he would. I brought the gun around in front of me, closed my eyes, and fired it. When I opened my eyes I saw Jeffrey falling down with blood gushing out of his chest. I couldn’t believe that I had killed him. When he hit the ground, I just stared at him. He wasn’t moving. His eyes had rolled back into his head and I knew he was dead.” Her hand started to shake uncontrollably.

  “There’s water in front of you. We’re in no hurry,” Brian said, as Maria took a drink of water and regained her composure.

  “Ms. Brooks, what happened next?”

  “I was terrified. I’d never held a gun in my hand before, much less shot one. My only thought was to get away, as far away as I could. I was scared I’d be arrested for causing his death. I hurriedly packed some clothes, got into my van, drove it to Phoenix, stopped at the bank, left the van at a Wal-Mart, and took a cab to the airport. There was a flight leaving for Marseille, France in an hour and I decided to take it.”

  “So, you were terrified of being arrested for Jeffrey’s death, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “I understand when you arrived in France you assumed the name of Elena Johnson. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you change your name?”

  “I was afraid of being sent back to the United Stated and arrested for Jeffrey’s murder. I thought if I changed my name I stood a better chance of not being found.”

  “How long were you in France?”

  “I was there for eight months.”

  “Did you work when you were in France?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you tell the court the nature of your work?”

  “Yes. I was the luncheon chef at a two star Michelin restaurant in the village of St. Victor la Coste.”

  “Why did you come back to the United States?”

  “I fell in love with a police detective who was in Provence investigating an art theft case. He asked me to come to California to be with him.”

  “Ms. Brooks, I understand from previous witnesses who were guests at the motel that you did not accompany them when they went down to Jeffrey’s basement laboratory. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you accompany them?”

  Maria took a deep breath and brushed a tear from her eye with her hand, still visibly shaking. She began to
speak in a low voice, “Jeffrey kept rats in his lab. When I was twelve I was gang-raped in the alley behind my home in the barrio. My attackers left me lying in the alley when they were through with me. I was just barely conscious. I was a virgin and rats were all over me, licking my vaginal blood. I’ve been terrified of rats ever since then.”

  There was pin drop silence in the courtroom. No one wanted to miss a word.

  “I am so sorry. Ms. Brooks. I have one last question. Was anyone else in the basement laboratory with you and Jeffrey the afternoon he died?”

  “No.”

  “Thank you.” Brian turned to Marsha. “Ms. Sinclair, your witness.”

  * * * * *

  “Ms. Brooks. You have no medical background of any kind, is that true?”

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  “So, you are not medically qualified to determine if someone is insane. Is that correct?”’

  “Yes.”

  “You stated that there was no one else in the basement with you when you shot him. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you expect us to believe you because there is no one else who can say otherwise…

  “Objection! Argumentative.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Ms. Brooks, your husband, Jeffrey Brooks, received four million dollars in severance pay from Moore Labs, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he have a will or a trust?”

  “No.”

  “So, it would be correct to assume that you, as his surviving spouse, received what was left of the four million dollars when he died.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ms. Brooks, do you expect us to believe that you fled to France even though you were, in your own words, innocent?”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Ms. Brooks, isn’t it true that you murdered Jeffrey Brooks in cold blood because you wanted his money?”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained.”

  “Ms. Brooks. You testified that you fired the gun that was responsible for the death of your husband, is that correct?”