Path to Justice

by Jim Dutton

  “Ms. Salas, it was quite a lot of cocaine, three ounces?”

  “I don’t know how much cocaine there was. There was some.”

  “Here is a lab report, it shows 3.2 ounces of a white powdery substance, containing cocaine. Does that refresh your memory?”

  “Whatever it says, I’m sure it’s right.”

  “Do you know how many people in California are prosecuted for possession of cocaine for sale for having three ounces of cocaine?

  Nick stood up, “Objection, Your Honor, irrelevant, argumentative and assumes facts not in evidence.”

  Judge Orsini said in a slightly annoyed voice, “Sustained, move on counsel”.

  “Ms. Salas, you intended to sell all that cocaine when you crossed the border into our community.” Nick knew “in our community” was argumentative, but decided to let it pass. He couldn’t be seen by the jurors as objecting too much.

  “No Mr. Flanigan, I intended to use it myself.”

  In a disbelieving tone, “All that cocaine for yourself?”

  Nick objected again, “Argumentative, asked and answered.”

  “Sustained.”

  Flanigan continued to emphasize the points that supported his case. Felicia acknowledged that she never heard anyone talk about distributing heroin or marijuana. She didn’t see any marijuana or heroin at Luis’ compound. She was also aware of the spate of kidnappings in Mexico and the armed guards at the compound could certainly be there for that reason.

  Flanigan completed a few more areas of inquiry before he turned over the cross-examination to the final defense attorney, Marc Lipman, attorney for Luis.

  Lipman wasted no time in attacking Felicia. “Isn’t it true that my client gave you thousands of dollars in gifts out of his love for you?”

  Nick objected right away. He had to keep Lipman honest and set the tone. “Object to, ‘Out of his love for her’, calls for speculation.”

  Judge Orsini said, “Strike ‘out of his love for you’. Ms. Salas, you can answer the question that Mr. Lopez gave you thousands of dollars in gifts.”

  “Yes. He gave me clothes and jewelry.”

  “You became bored in Mexico when Mr. Lopez wasn’t able to spend as much time with you?”

  “Yes. Over time he spent less and less time with me.”

  “You kept bugging him about spending more time with you?”

  “We talked about it.”

  “You didn’t just talk about it. You yelled and screamed at him?”

  “A few times.”

  “Didn’t you also hit him and scratch his face in one of those arguments?”

  “I was sobbing one time and beat him on his chest. He grabbed me hard by my upper arms. I screamed that he was hurting me. He wouldn’t let me go. That’s when I scratched his face.”

  Nick interjected, “Can we approach the bench for a sidebar conference?” Judge Orsini nodded for the attorneys to come forward. “Your Honor, Mr. Lipman has opened the door to evidence about all of the domestic violence inflicted upon Felicia by his client before the night she left. He raised the issue of arguments and a prior physical confrontation.”

  Judge Orsini, looking directly at Mr. Lipman, said, “Mr. Drummond has an excellent point—any more questioning along those lines Mr. Lipman and it all comes in, including the breast tattoo.” Lipman, ashen, nodded his assent, and the attorneys went back to their seats.

  Lipman continued his questioning, “The evening before you were caught with cocaine at the border, it was you who started the fight?”

  “No. I told him I wanted to leave. He started hitting me.”

  “Didn’t you start beating him first, and hit your right eye on the side of a dresser when he protected himself by pushing you away?”

  “No, it didn’t happen that way.”

  Lipman gave Felicia a look of disbelief. “Well, let’s move on. You were caught at the border with three ounces of cocaine. Right?”

  “Yes,”

  You knew you were in big trouble. You didn’t want to go to jail?”

  “I didn’t know how much trouble I was in. I didn’t want to go to jail.”

  “Didn’t law enforcement tell you that you could go to jail for the cocaine.”

  “Yes, someone mentioned it.”

  “You would do anything to stay out of jail. You would tell law enforcement anything they wanted to hear about Mr. Lopez so you could avoid going to jail?”

  “No, I told them the truth.”

  You knew that law enforcement was after suspected members of the Baja Norte Familia?”

  “I knew they were concerned about the Familia.”

  “You’re no dummy. You’ve been around the block. You knew how to spice up your story to try to put Mr. Lopez and the other defendants in a bad light?” Nick could have objected to, “around the block” as being argumentative, but Felicia was on a roll—handling the questions well.

  “I didn’t spice up my story.”

  “You have a deal with the prosecution that if you cooperate and testify, no charges will be brought against you for the cocaine?”

  “Yes”.

  “What do you think the prosecution gets out of this deal? They want to stick it to the defendants!”

  Nick leaped up, “Object, Your Honor, highly improper, speculation, argumentative.”

  Before, Judge Orsini could respond, Lipman said, “I withdraw the question.” With a disgusted look on his face, he added, “No further questions.”

  Judge Orsini looked at Nick. “Would you like a few minutes before redirect?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, thank you.”

  Nick and Josh conferred. It was decided that Nick would just ask questions on the subjects where the defense had scored a few points and leave the rest alone. They wanted Felicia back on the airplane.

  “Ms. Salas, you told the defense that the cocaine in your purse was for personal use. How much cocaine were you using when you were at Mr. Lopez’ compound?”

  “Luis and I would snort about a half an ounce a day.”

  Lipman almost screamed, “Object, unresponsive, move to strike, improper character evidence!”

  Judge Orsini said, “I will allow it. Mr. Flanigan opened the door to this line of questioning when he asked the witness about the cocaine being possessed for sale.”

  Nick continued, “So for you alone, the three ounces would be less than a two week supply?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. My math isn’t that good.”

  “Here is your photo at the border.” Nick stepped aside, put the photo on the big screen. “Did these bruises and black eye come from hitting the side of a dresser?”

  “No.” Felicia looked directly at Luis, anger emanating from her face. “I didn’t hit a dresser; Luis did that to me with his closed fist and the back of his hand.”

  “Did you make up your testimony about the six inch bullet and the crates in the garage?”

  “No.”

  “Did you make up testimony about the defendants’ after dinner conversations that you overheard when they were in the den?”

  “No.”

  “Did you make up the heated conversation where Defendant Encinas said, ‘Tell me before you decide to take someone out” and defendant Sanchez’ response, ‘I’m in charge of enforcement, it’s my call,’ and finally Defendant Lopez’ comment, ‘No one will miss that snake.’”

  “No. They said those exact words.”

  “The agreement you signed with law enforcement that if you cooperated, no charges for the cocaine would be filed, wasn’t that dependent on you telling the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to be here?”

  “No. I want my life back. I’m scared to death.”

  “No further questions, Your Honor. Can this witness be excused?”


  Judge Orsini looked at the attorneys for the defense. “Any further questions gentlemen?” Seeing negative head shakes, Orsini excused the witness, telling Felicia she could exit the courtroom after the jury leaves.

  As soon as the jury left, Nick rushed over to Felicia and ushered her out the back hallway. He had a fear that somehow a defense counsel would call her back to the stand. Nick and Felicia felt a huge sense of relief on the way back to the airport. Felicia had done well and she didn’t have to face Luis anymore. Testifying at trial significantly reduced the risk that Luis would orchestrate another attack. However, Nick couldn’t be absolutely sure of Felicia’s safety even if Luis was convicted and locked away for decades. He was a vengeful son-of-a-bitch.

  Nick ended the day the same way he started it. He gave Felicia a big hug on the tarmac before she climbed the stairs to the jet. With both hands, Nick gripped SAC Poon’s hand and said, “Thank you. Felicia came through for all of us today, including Deputy Perkins.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Nick woke up Sunday morning, actually feeling refreshed. He felt like he hadn’t had a full eight hours sleep in years. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about Felicia’s testimony. It was a huge relief that it was over and that she had done so well. The evidence on Friday also came in well. Josh and Nick had shared the law enforcement witnesses who’d monitored additional duffle bag exchanges at the Canadian border. Homeland Security Investigator Slater enthralled the jury with the harrowing mountain pass detour to pick up the surveillance on the college kid’s pickup after a duffle bag delivery. He told the jury where the Missoula drug warehouse was located and described Agent Pepe Cantana’s muddy, ice water bath while crawling under the pickup to place a GPS tracking device.

  Nick felt so good that he decided to treat himself to an early morning run along Pacific Beach. At 7:00, he didn’t have to navigate around any sunbathers, tag football games, or kids building sand castles. Other than dodging a couple of overly energetic youth running to the water with their surfboards, he had the beach to himself. He got into a rhythm and let his mind wander. His thoughts turned to Ana and her flying in from Topeka this evening at six. The thought of her coming home and being cleared by the doctors were the real reasons why he felt so alive this morning. He was going to cook her a dinner she’d never forget. Time to pull out all the stops and channel his Italian mother. She loved to cook and had imprinted that love in her son. Nick had put it on the back shelf for a long time. It was time to dust it off.

  Nick picked up the pace on the way back to his apartment, planning the dinner. Mushroom risotto, his mother’s favorite. No store bought chicken stock for the risotto—it had to be homemade—the secret to Mama’s risotto. Nick knew that Ana was not much of a beef eater. But, a duck salad should work, and sautéed spinach. He’d top it all off with chocolate mousse. Ana had a sweet tooth for chocolate.

  Without showering, Nick got into his car and rushed to an Italian deli in Little Italy. He bought morel mushrooms, Italian arborio rice, and chicken backs, feet, and necks, as well as onions, carrots, celery, and a leek.

  Back at his apartment, he diced two parts onion, one part carrots and one part celery for the mirepoix. He wrapped peppercorns and a clove of garlic in a cheese cloth for the sachet. Parsley stems, thyme, and bay leaves were wrapped in a leek leaf for the bouquet garni. Nick put the mirepoix, sachet, and garni with the chicken bones in a pot and added water. He brought it to a boil and then lowered the gas flame to a simmer. After six to eight hours of simmering, he’d then strain the chicken stock. Nick would end up with a clear quart of chicken stock, just perfect for a couple of healthy portions of risotto.

  While the chicken stock was simmering, Nick went to the expensive organic market nearby. He hadn’t been in the market before, not wanting to spend the money. But, today was an exception. He bought two duck breasts, goat cheese, a basket of raspberries, and an orange for the duck salad. He also bought a hefty bunch of organic spinach and luscious dried cranberries for sautéed spinach. For the mousse, he bought semi-sweet chocolate, whole milk, vanilla, whipping cream, and strawberries.

  Back at the apartment, the aroma of the chicken stock lured Nick into the kitchen. He lifted the lid to the pot and and breathed in the wafting smells. He pictured his plump mother, bending over the family stove, in her faded blue apron. She had been gone for 10 years. Today was the first day he had thought of her in a while.

  Nick started working on the chocolate mousse. He placed the chocolate, a bit more than called for, in a sauce pan at low heat, stirring in milk and sugar. Once the mixture had blended, he poured it over fluffy egg whites that he had beaten in a separate bowl. He continued to stir this mixture under a low heat until it thickened some. Nick was careful not to overcook it, and placed the small saucepan in a large pot of cold water to slowly cool it. He then put the saucepan in the refrigerator.

  In a separate bowl, he whipped a half cup of whipping cream until it was stiff and added a teaspoon of pure vanilla extract, the special ingredient for delectable chocolate mousse. Nick then blended the whipped cream with the cooled chocolate custard. Next, Nick macerated half the basket of ever so sweet raspberries. He placed the macerated raspberries into two small dessert bowls and covered the raspberries with the chocolate mousse. Both of the mousse bowls went back into the fridge.

  Nick wanted everything ready to go when he took the makings of the dinner to Ana’s condo to cook it. He sliced the morel mushrooms into thick slices, realizing they would be significantly reduced in size when he later sautéed them before mixing them in with the risotto. He sliced the strawberries for the topping on the mousse. Nick planned to bring the refrigerated items with him in a cooler to the airport to pick up Ana. He would also bag up and bring along the rest of the dinner. His Mama always said, “The path to a woman’s heart is through the kitchen by a lovingly crafted, home-cooked meal.” He would see.

  Nick, anxious to see Ana, arrived at the cellphone lot near the arrival terminal a half hour before Ana’s plane was scheduled to land. Forty-five dreadfully boring minutes later, the text came through, “I have my luggage, I’ll be under the overhead pedestrian bridge.” In two minutes Nick was there, out of his truck and hugging Ana.

  “I guess you missed me big guy.”

  “You don’t know how much.” Nick caught her up on the case during the drive to Solana Beach.

  As they were nearing her condo, Ana asked, “How about some take-out? I’m hungry.”

  “Don’t worry about take-out, I have a home-cooked meal for you. Just unpack your things, take a shower, and leave it to me.”

  “That’s a very kind offer Nick. But, I don’t feel like macaroni and cheese and micro-waved chicken wings.”

  “Ahhh, how the lady disparages me. There are a few things you don’t know about me. Just wait and taste.” When Ana went to her bedroom to unpack, Nick went back to his truck and carried up the food.

  Nick was using all four burners on her stove when Ana walked in. She was wearing a silk robe, and her damp hair hung straight down. Nick couldn’t help but notice that Ana wasn’t wearing a bra under the thin sheen of silk. “What in the hell have you done to my kitchen?!”

  “Let me explain princess. Pine nuts are roasting on the back, right burner for the sautéed spinach. Olive oil lightly covers the large frying pan on the left rear burner, ready for me to sauté the spinach. I’m scoring the duck breasts in the frying pan on the front right burner to render out fat and make it crispy. The piece de resistance, that I have been stirring while you unpacked and cleaned up, is mushroom risotto, on the left front burner. About half the quart of my homemade chicken stock has been absorbed into the special arborio rice from Italy, known for its absorption properties. See that plastic container to my left, that is the remaining stock that I have to stir in.”

  “I can’t believe this. Why do you preside over an uncouth, barebones bachelor pad,
when you can cook like this?”

  “Priorities my dear, priorities, and I wanted to hold something back from you. It’s always nice to surprise.”

  “True. I’ll see if I’m really surprised after I taste your meal.”

  “Always the cynic.”

  “Being Jewish, I come by it honestly.”

  “Remember, you said that, not me. Stir the risotto while I flip the duck breasts for a minute before putting them in the oven. Also, give the pine nuts a shake so they get browned on the other side.”

  The meal was coming together. Ana did most of the risotto stirring while Nick put together the composed, duck salad. He sliced the duck breasts into eight oval pieces and laid four a piece, over a small bed of mixed greens on two plates. Nick placed a half dozen raspberries to one side of each plate and a couple of orange slices on the other side. Small chunks of goat cheese adorned another side of each plate and chopped organic tomatoes on the fourth side. A balsamic vinaigrette dressing was lightly applied over the greens.

  “Nick, why don’t you toss the salad?”

  “Each ingredient is a separate flavor to be savored and contrasted to the other tastes.”

  Ana lightly rapped Nick on the head. “Is the real Nick in there?”

  “No, Ana, it’s really my Italian mother. You don’t see much of her in me, day to day. My grumpy work demeanor comes from my British father. I also blame him for my drinking. He was part Irish.”

  “That’s more than you’ve told me about them in the two years I’ve known you.”

  “I told you I could change. At least I think I did. Maybe it was Judy I kept saying that to.”

  “Finally, back to the real you. The spoiler of intimate moments.”

  “Let me make amends by my dinner. It’s almost ready.” Nick tasted the risotto and it was at a perfect consistency, very moist, with each rice kernel bulging with liquid. However, it needed salt. Nick mixed in pinches of salt until he was satisfied. Over the next two minutes, Nick sautéed handfuls of spinach in olive oil, adding the roasted pine nuts. The spinach reduced down from an overflowing frying pan to two portions. He turned off the heat, and placed some dried cranberries and crumbles of goat cheese on the sautéed spinach. He served ample, but not overwhelming, portions of the risotto and the sautéed spinach on each of their plates. Nick had to balance his predilection for heaping portions with his mother’s admonition that smaller portions presented much better. The duck salads were served on separate plates at the same time.