Chapter Thirty
The rest of Quinn’s testimony went quickly.
Randy’s lawyer had no questions for Quinn, which was surprising.
But maybe that was a good strategy. The main reason the prosecution put Quinn on the stand was to establish the chain of evidence for the hammer, confirm that Randy knew about Mom’s cubby, and put a human face on the tragedy.
Cross-examining him would’ve kept the jury focused on the grisly hammer or on the fact that Quinn and his brother were now orphans.
Sitting in the gallery now next to Holly, Quinn watches the young defense lawyer. The guy may be in over his head, like Griffin said, but Quinn thinks he’s quite good. He’s full of passion and he seems to believe his client is innocent, even if he’s the only one.
He’s called his lead witness, one of Randy’s co-workers.
“You worked with Randy Calhoon?”
“That’s right.”
“You were working a shift October 28, 1993?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you remember that?”
“Because we got word Nadine was murdered. That her body was found near the plant. I’ll never forget that.”
“You knew Ms. Riley?”
“Yes, everyone knew Nadine. She basically ran the factory.”
The lawyer skips over that, perhaps not wanting the jury to think about Quinn’s mom.
“Was Mr. Calhoon with you when you heard the news about Ms. Riley’s murder?”
“Yes. He’d been with me the whole shift, he never—”
“I’ll get to that. But first, how did Mr. Calhoon react to the news?”
“Randy was a mess.”
“You said you were with Randy the whole shift?” the lawyer asks.
“Objection, leading,” the prosecutor says with an exasperated lilt.
“I’ll rephrase. Was anyone working with you on your shift on October 28, 1993?”
“Yes.”
“Who was that?”
“Randy.” He points to Randy, who sits up straight at the defense table. “We load and unload the trucks. He was with me the entire shift—eight in the morning until six.”
The young lawyer lets that sit for a moment.
“Do you remember what time Ms. Riley was found?”
“Yes, it was in the afternoon.”
“Now, the prosecution has explained that Ms. Riley clocked out at nine thirty that morning and was found at five o’clock that same day. Were you and Mr. Calhoon working during that period?”
“Yes.”
“And during that period was Mr. Calhoon with you at all times?”
“To the best of my recollection.”
“Do you know why Ms. Riley had clocked out that morning? It’s unusual, isn’t it, to come in for a morning shift and clock out so soon?”
“I don’t know about unusual. People have doctor’s appointments, kid stuff, things like that.”
“Do you know why Ms. Riley left that morning?”
“No.”
“Did you see Ms. Riley at all that day?”
“No.”
“Would you have ordinarily seen her?”
“Not always. But she’d occasionally have business in our part of the plant. And she sometimes came to the cafeteria to have lunch with Randy.”
“Did you have lunch with Randy that day?”
“Yes.”
“And was Ms. Riley in the cafeteria that day?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Was there any time that day from the time Ms. Riley supposedly clocked out at nine thirty in the morning until she was found at five that day that my client wasn’t with you?”
“To the best of my memory, we were always together.”
The young lawyer pauses, like he’s debating his next move.
“Mr. Martinez, if Mr. Calhoon was with you the entire time, do you have any idea how his DNA got on the hammer that killed Ms. Riley?”
“I think he was framed. I think—”
The prosecutor is on his feet now. “Your Honor, may we approach?”
The stone-faced judge waves them over. Though the courtroom is small, there’s a white noise machine that makes it impossible for Quinn or anyone to hear the sidebar.
Holly has taken Quinn’s hand in hers, and it feels good.
They watch as the young lawyer appears to be giving an impassioned plea.
His crestfallen expression shows it didn’t work. The lawyers return to their tables.
“Mr. Martinez.” The young lawyer pauses, like he’s bracing himself for an all-important question: “Do you think Mr. Calhoon was framed because Ms. Riley reported criminal activity occurring at the plant and she was killed to silence her and make Mr. Calhoon the patsy?”
There’s a gasp in the courtroom. Griffin is on his feet again, but before he gets a word out, the judge bangs his gavel hard. “My chambers,” the judge bellows. “Now!”
Quinn and Holly share a glance in the gallery. Holly, a prelaw major, says, “That defense lawyer’s gonna pay for that.”