FIFTY
Experienced criminal defense lawyers will tell you that the last person they want testifying is the defendant because if the defendant is caught in a lie-any lie, no matter how small or how irrelevant to her guilt or innocence it might be-the jury will never believe another word she says. This was a lesson A. Scott Fenney would learn that day, the fifth day of trial in The State of Texas vs. Rebecca Fenney.
'The defense calls Rebecca Fenney.'
She wore low heels and a simple green dress. She looked more like a suburban housewife than the hottest WAG on tour. But she could not hide her beauty.
'Ms. Fenney, did you kill Trey Rawlins?'
'No.'
'Did you love him?'
'Yes. Very much.'
'The night he was killed, did he take you out to dinner at Gaido's?'
'Yes.'
'Did he ask you to marry him?'
'Yes.'
'Did you accept his proposal?'
'Yes.'
'Did you and he have sex on the beach that night?'
'Yes.'
'Did you go to bed together?'
'Yes.'
'What do you next remember?'
'I woke up at three-forty-five in the morning and found him dead. I called nine-one-one. The police came.'
'Did you know Trey was having an affair with Billie Jean Puckett?'
'No.'
'Did Trey ever say he was leaving you for her or any other woman?'
'No.'
'He gave you money and jewelry?'
'Yes.'
'Before Trey's death, you lived in a beach house here in Galveston, an oceanfront condo in Malibu, and a ski lodge in Beaver Creek, you drove a Corvette, you stayed in five-star hotels, traveled first class, enjoyed spas…?'
'Yes.'
'Now you have nothing except the Corvette?'
'And the jewelry.'
'You have no money, no assets, no home, no life insurance?'
'No.'
'You had no motive to kill Trey Rawlins?'
'No.'
'And you did not kill him?'
'No, I did not.'
During a short recess, Scott noticed the D.A. and his assistant having an animated discussion in the corner of the courtroom. The D.A.'s head was down, and his assistant was pleading. The D.A. finally nodded. When he returned to his table, his eyes met Scott's but not for long. And Scott knew. It was the sex tapes: the Assistant D.A. wanted to introduce the sex tapes, and he had won the argument.
The judge gaveled the courtroom to order, and the Assistant D.A. stood to cross-examine the defendant charged with stabbing a star athlete to death. This was his big TV moment, and he wanted to make the best of it. Rebecca had been calm and collected during the direct examination because Scott had rehearsed it with her a dozen times. But there was no effective rehearsal for cross-examination by a sneaky prosecuting son of a bitch, and the Assistant D.A. was just such a prosecutor. Rebecca Fenney was nervous, but not as nervous as her lawyer.
'Ms. Fenney, let's talk about the jewelry Trey Rawlins gave you.'
The Assistant D.A. glanced at Scott and winked. And Scott knew that neither the D.A. nor his assistant had missed it. That was what they had argued about-not the sex tapes. They were going to show that Rebecca had lied-that she had paid Benito cash for the cocaine-that she had the $3 million the mob had paid Trey.
'Ms. Fenney, during the course of your relationship with Mr. Rawlins, did he give you gifts of jewelry and a Corvette?'
'Yes.'
'And cash that you used to buy more jewelry?'
'And clothes.'
'And was that Corvette in the garage of the house you shared with Mr. Rawlins on the night of his death?'
'Yes.'
'Was the jewelry in the house that night?'
'Yes.'
'Subsequent to Mr. Rawlins' death, his attorney surrendered possession of the Corvette to you?'
'Yes.'
'And all the jewelry Mr. Rawlins had given you or that you had purchased with cash he had given you over the course of your relationship?'
'Yes.'
'When?'
'When what?'
'When did Mr. Rawlins' attorney deliver possession of those items to you?'
'Well, I…'
'Does Friday June twelfth sound right for the Corvette?'
'Yes, I think that's right.'
'And Monday June fifteenth for the jewelry? Right here in this courtroom before your arraignment?'
'Yes.'
'Okay. Now, have you since sold any of that jewelry?'
'No.'
'Have you since sold the Corvette?'
'No.'
'So when you testified that you had no money, did you literally mean no money at all? As in zero? Not a single dollar?'
'Yes.'
'You have no money in a bank account, a shoe box, under your bed, or buried on the beach like Jean Lafitte's treasure? No money anywhere?'
'No.'
Scott felt sick. It was like watching a speeding freight train bearing down a compact car trying to cross the tracks too late and not being able to stop it.
'Ms. Fenney, you were aware of Trey's affairs with other women?'
'No, I was not.'
'You knew he was going to leave you for Billie Jean Puckett?'
'No. He proposed to me that night.'
