Page 4 of Nova

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Promise

The courtroom falls silent as the only eyewitness in the Velasco case makes his way to the stand. My client, Leon Velasco, is on trial for the murder of Eddie Melba, a sixty-three-year-old man who was the owner of a gas station where he was shot to death while working the graveyard shift. Ever since a guy named Kostas disappeared from New Orleans months ago, Leon Velasco has taken over running drugs in the city. It appears whenever one dealer is taken down, another one quickly takes their place. Although, rumor is, Velasco is the top boss. Whatever that means. All I know is the cycle never stops, which brings us to today. Mr. Melba was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when a stray bullet pierced through the window of his convenient store, striking him in the chest. Eddie Melba was dead before he made it to the hospital. He leaves behind a wife of thirty-five years and a son. Both of them are in the courtroom today. I can't bring myself to look over my shoulder to where they are seated. Because the truth is, I'm no better than the man sitting to my left, the one currently sending death glares to the young man on the stand. Robby Hunter is a twenty-two-year-old who spends his life on the streets. The young man spent his teen years in and out of juvie and has been arrested half a dozen times in the last two years, all drug-related charges. These things are what I'm going to use against him today. I will use his past and his criminal record to discredit him on the stand. As much as I hate to do so, it is my job. I'm a defense attorney. I spend countless hours helping men like Leon Velasco. The rats of society, the scum of the criminal underground. With each case I win, I find myself questioning my choice to keep doing what it is I do.

"Miss Bailey," the judge calls my name, bringing me out of my wandering thoughts.

"Do you wish to cross-examine the witness?"

I stand from my chair, smooth out my skirt, and put my usual game face on. The cold one I have adopted since becoming a lawyer. "Yes, your honor."

My face stays expressionless as I approach the stand where Robby Hunter's eyes shift from the judge to me and then over my left shoulder to where my client sits. I note the way his pupils constrict and his bloodshot eyes. Mr. Hunter has a history of heroin abuse, and it is clear he's on something now. "How are you today, Mr. Hunter?"

"Fine." Mr. Hunter fidgets in his seat.

"Are you okay? Would you like a glass of water before we begin?"

"No."

"Alright, then. I'll begin by asking you where you were on the night of June sixth, at approximately one o'clock in the morning?"

"Um…was that the night the old dude was shot?" Mr. Hunter asks, his voice shaking.

"Yes, Mr. Hunter. The night in question is when Mr. Melba was shot and killed."

"I uh… I was sitting under the bridge across the street from Mr. Melba's gas station."

"What were you doing under the bridge at one o'clock in the morning, Mr. Hunter?"

"Objection, your honor. Relevance?" the state's attorney jumps in.

"Withdrawn, your honor." I turn my attention back to the witness. "Can you tell the court what you saw that night, Mr. Hunter?"

"I saw that man over there," he points to Leon Velasco, "pull up and park in the empty parking lot next to the gas station. Another car pulled up, and two men got out, then Velasco climbed from his car."

"Then what happened?"

"They looked to be talking and were there for a few minutes before I heard gunshots."

"What did you do when you heard the gunshots, Mr. Hunter?"

"I ran and ducked behind the bridge pillar."

"If you were hiding, how did you see my client allegedly fire a weapon?"

"When I heard tires squealing, I peeked and saw Leon Velasco shooting a gun at the car that was driving away."

"And you're positive it was Mr. Velasco you saw in the parking lot that night? How many yards would you say the bridge is from the empty lot?"

"I don't know."

"Well let me enlighten you then, Mr. Hunter. It is twenty yards. Not only were you sixty feet away, but it was the middle of the night. Are you positive it was my client you saw that night when you were twenty yards away in the dark hiding behind a pillar?"

"Look. I saw what I saw, lady."

I ignore Robby Hunter's frustrated remark and keep going. "Is it also true you were under the bridge that night to buy drugs? And were you, in fact, high at the time of the incident, Mr. Hunter?"

"Objection, your honor!" The state's attorney flies out of her seat.

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