Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas (15 page)
Read Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas Online
Authors: Colleen Collins
Joanne took the wheel, asking the judge to please take into account that new evidence reflects directly on Dita’s innocence, and that the core of justice is fundamentally about the search for truth. Otherwise, this would be an unfair trial that steps all over Dita’s rights to present her side of the story.
The judge overruled the DA’s objection and allowed the new evidence. Maybe Joanne should have pleaded more passionately last time, or maybe her words struck the right cord with the judge this time. Whatever the reason, she trumped the DA Burnette this time around.
Harley took the stand.
“You’re an ATF special agent, is that correct?” Joanne asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“To be licensed as a federal agent, you must meet rigorous demands, is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She mentioned a few of those demands, adding, “As well as being over six foot, correct?”
Harley smiles. “If that were true, I would never have qualified as I’m exactly six foot tall”
She asked a few questions ATF equipment, including cell phones. “What brands of cell phones have you used in the last four years?”
“What does that have to do with my expert testimony?”
“This helps validate your role as an ATF special agent. Please answer the question.”
After he mentioned the brands, she headed back to the defense table and picked up the blown-up photo. Her back to Harley, she looked at the picture, but can’t make out all the letters. She forced herself to recall Mike’s voice as he read the name of the gun dealer who sent this.
Turning around, she held up the photo for Harley.
“This is a picture of your T-mobile cell phone screen you just told the court you used three and a half years ago. The text message on this screen is from a man who calls himself Big T, who wanted to buy more guns from you. Big T sent this message to you, correct?”
Harley smirked. “Impossible. Anyway, I can can’t clearly see the photo details from here.”
“Miss Galvin,” Judge Fields said. “Could you please bring the picture closer so the witness can read the text message.”
Joanne moved closer.
“Sorry,” Harley said, leaning forward, squinting. “Still can’t see it well.”
She crossed up to the witness box, stopped and held up the photo.
In a flash of movement, Harley lunged box.
Feeling his grip around her neck, she fights to breathe, his red, furious face inches from her. Falling to the floor, she’s vaguely aware of people screaming. Mike appeared, yelling. Slams his fist into Harley’s face.
Her world went black.
R
osemary Galvin
, dressed in a peach chiffon dress, gently placed a gardenia in Joanne’s softly curled chignon. “The white against your red hair is lovely,” she murmured.
Joanne inhaled the sweet scent. “Smells divine, too.”
Rosemary Galvin stepped back, blinking back tears. “My precious daughter on her wedding day.”
Shannon, in a shimmery pink maid of honor dress, plucked a tissue from a nearby box. “No tears, Mom! It’ll ruin your makeup!”
Rosemary laughed softly as she accepted the tissue. “By the time today is over, I imagine I’ll be makeup-less! Tears of joy are part of being the happy mother of the bride.”
The three of them were in the bridal dressing chamber at the Las Vegas Elvis Chapel. On the outside of the door were the words “For Elvis’s Ladies” scrolled around a picture of The King in a white jumpsuit and cape, bowing on one knee. Over the speakers, Elvis sang the heart-wrenching “Wonder of You.” Because their first kiss occurred while this song was playing, Joanne and Mike picked this chapel.
Joanne walked over to a full-length mirror and checked out the gardenia, then the rest of her. Her mom, sister, and Gloria had helped her wedding dress. The satin bodice was decorated with pearls. The rest of the dress was layered chiffon that fell softly over her baby bump. Her and Mike’s baby bump.
Minutes later her dad, wearing a tan suit, blue shirt and a champagne-colored tie, walked her down the green-carpeted aisle to a small stage with white Ionic columns. Mike and his best man Rex, both dressed in tuxes, stood to the side of Judge Fields, who would be officiating the ceremony. Maggie, as ring bearer, stood nearby, a satin bag holding two wedding rings hanging from her neck.
Over the speakers, Elvis started singing, “I Want You, I Need You, I Love You.” Mike silently lip-sync’d, “I want you, I need you, I love you,” causing her to smile and wish she’d remembered to bring a tissue for her own happy tears.
It has been busy since the trial. Harley, in jail without bond, is awaiting his trial for interstate trafficking in prohibited firearms, first-degree murder, assault, theft and several more charges—or as Mike said, “Enough felonies to put him away until the next millennium.”
Although ATF management hadn’t been happy to learn that Mike continued to conduct off-duty investigations in Vegas, they had commended him for excellence in the case development and prosecution against Harley. A month ago Mike relocated to the ATF Las Vegas office to open its new office of Ethics and Management.
When Judge Fields asked Mike to recite the vows he had written for Joanne, she couldn’t hold back a few tears. After Mike finished, the judge asked Joanne to please recite hers.
“I vow to love you, Mike Day, forever.” She smiled up into his face.
The judge waited. And waited. “Anything else?” he finally asked, giving her an
is-that-all-you’re-going-to-say?
look.
Joanne smiled even bigger, doubting all the words in the world could express her joy.
F
irst and foremost
, a big thank you to my criminal-lawyer husband, Shaun, who critiqued every chapter, often several times, to ensure I got the legal aspects right. When the going got tough, he hung up a Broncos jersey and said, “Just like Peyton Manning and Brock Osweiler, you can get this book over the goal line to The End!”
A special thank you to my editor, Wanda Ottewell, who encouraged and guided me with insights and ideas.
And more thanks to Judy DeVries for her proofreading expertise.
Last, gotta hand it to my cats who hang with me as I write, especially Denny Crane, who
must
watch the screen as I type…
Denny Crane, critique partner
C
olleen Collins has worked
as a bad waitress, an improv comedienne, telecommunications manager, technical editor and private investigator, all of which play into her stories. She has written nearly 30 romance and mystery novels, as well as four nonfiction books.
To read more about Colleen’s books and upcoming releases:
T
he Ungrateful Dead
(A Humorous Colorado Mystery Book 1)
The Zen Man (A Humorous Colorado Mystery Book 2)
A Lawyer’s Primer for Writers: From Crimes to Courtrooms (co-authored with Shaun Kaufman)
Secrets of a Real-Life Female Private Eye
More of Colleen’s romance and mystery novels are listed here:
Colleen’s Amazon Page
