Page 84 of Desert Loyalties
Knuckles grins. “I can crack walnuts with ‘em.” He shrugs. “Seemed to stick.”
Cheng, “Have you ever been convicted of a crime?”
Knuckles, “Yeah. I was a dumbass as a kid. Got three strikes. One stuck.”
Cheng, “Felony conviction, then?”
Knuckles, “Yes, sir.”
Cheng, “Have you ever seen Mr. Lloyd threaten Mr. Donahue?”
Knuckles, “No. I mean, none of us even knew Locke- uh, Mr. Donahue, was the rat. How could Drake threaten him if he didn’t know?”
Cheng, looking like a priss, complains to the teacher,“Your Honor, move to strike everything after ‘no’ as non-responsive.”
Judge Keller,“Sustained. Mr. Hernandez, just answer the question asked.”
Cheng, “Has Mr. Lloyd ever threatened you?”
Knuckles: “No. I mean, apart from telling me to stop forgetting to flush. He never did.”
Pause.
Knuckles, “I did flush, it was just a really big log.”
A few snickers echo from the gallery. Judge Keller’s gavel taps, once.
Judge Keller looks like she’s holding back a smile “Let’s keep this dignified.”
Cheng’s face is a mask of discomfort.
“No further questions.”
Christina stands, at her seat, “Mr. Hernandez, did you or anyone in the club know Mr. Donahue was talking to the police?”
Knuckles, “Absolutely not.”
Christina, “In your experience, would Mr. Lloyd have threatened someone like Mr. Donahue, on club business, without informing anyone else in the club?”
Prick raises his hand again“Objection. Speculative.”
Christina, “Goes to pattern of conduct, Your Honor.”
Judge Keller,“Overruled. Answer if you can.”
Knuckles, “No. That’s not how it works. Drake don’t move without the table knowing.”
Christina, “No further questions.”
Knuckles gives her a respectful nod, then shuffles his way off the stand, looking like a walking contradiction: pink shirt, calloused hands, and unshakable loyalty.
One after another, the witnesses paint the same picture, no threats, no secret moves, no surprises. Knuckles says it, Ice says it, then Mason’s cousin, Rico. It’s the same story every time.
After the third round, Judge Keller’s patience thins.
She looks up from her bench, gaze sharp as a razor.
“Counsel,” she says, voice calm but firm, “this testimony is becoming repetitive and cumulative. Unless there’s new material to add, I’m going to ask you to move on.”
