'You stabbed that watermelon with this knife?'
'Yes.'
'Which would explain why your fingerprints are aligned in a stabbing grip rather than a cutting grip?'
'Yes.'
'Ms. Fenney, you're on trial for murder because you stabbed a watermelon?'
'Apparently.'
'And what did you do with this knife after you cut the watermelon?'
'I put it in the sink.'
'Where the killer could have found it?'
'Yes.'
'No further questions.'
The Assistant D.A. stood. 'Ms. Fenney, you used the murder weapon to cut a watermelon that night?'
'Yes.'
'But you still could have used the same knife to kill Trey Rawlins?'
'I didn't.'
'Why did you not recall before now that you had cut that watermelon with the murder weapon that night?'
'Because I was drunk and stoned on cocaine. I really don't remember much from that night.'
The defense rested, and the judge called a thirty-minute recess. Bobby leaned over and said, 'We win.'
'Not until the jury says we win.'
'Come on, Scotty, there's no way they come back from that.'
They came back. When court reconvened after the recess, the Assistant D.A. walked over to the defense table with stack of papers in his hands and a smile on his face.
'You just sent your wife to prison.'
'What are these?'
'The Facebook subpoena response. Messages between Trey and Billie Jean-and a motive for your wife to murder Trey. Thanks, Scott. We would've never thought to subpoena Billie Jean's Facebook account.'
The D.A. seemed almost regretful. He let his assistant recall Billie Jean Puckett to the stand on rebuttal. She authenticated her Facebook account.
'And did you communicate with Trey through your Facebook page?'
'Unh-huh.'
'Why?'
'He knew Rebecca read his emails, snooped into his stuff.'
'He wanted to keep his plans with you secret from Rebecca?'
'He was waiting for the right time to tell her.'
'Miss Puckett, would you please read Trey's message dated Wednesday, June third of this year-the day before he was murdered?'
'Okay.' She read: ' 'Hi, baby. God, I miss you. Drive down tomorrow. I'll get rid of Rebecca, give her some money, send her shopping in Houston. Call me when you get in, I'll be at the golf course practicing. We'll meet at the house. I can't wait to touch you, be with you all the time. I'm going to tell Rebecca tomorrow night that it's over. I promise.' '
'Trey Rawlins wrote that message to you?'
'Yes.'
'Based upon that message, do you think he really asked Rebecca Fenney to marry him the very next night?'
'No. He was going to marry me.'
'Thank you, Miss Puckett.'
Bobby tapped Scott's arm and pointed at a text from Karen on the laptop: 'Shit! Scott, make her look like a love-struck teenager-because she was!' Scott stood to cross-examine Billie Jean Puckett.
'Miss Puckett, had Trey been promising you that he'd break up with Rebecca?'
She nodded. 'For a few weeks, since we first got together.'
'You had only been with Trey for a few weeks?'
'Yes.'
'And he said he loved you?'
'Yes.'
'And promised to leave Rebecca for you?'
'Yes.'
'But he hadn't?'
'Not yet.'
'But he was going to?'
'Yes, he was.'
'You're sure?'
'He wouldn't lie to me.'
'I see you also posted nude photos of yourself. Why?'
'Trey asked me to. I'd do anything for him. I loved him.'
'Billie Jean, Trey was a liar, a drug addict, and gambler. He threw golf tournaments. He owed money to his drug dealer and to the mob. He lied to Rebecca. Why wouldn't he lie to you?'
'Because he loved me.'
'If he loved you, would he have had sex with Rebecca on the beach that same night, after he had sex with you three times that same afternoon?'
'No.'
'He did.'
'No!'
'Billie Jean, he used you.'
'He loved me.'
'I'm sure he did.'
They had explained Rebecca's prints on the murder weapon. But just as the Assistant D.A. had explained, the fact that she had used the knife to cut a watermelon that night didn't preclude her also using the same knife to kill Trey. It came down to her credibility. Trey's message and Billie Jean's testimony had hurt Rebecca's case. But Rebecca's own testimony had hurt her case even more: 'I traded sex.'
The jurors wouldn't forget that.
When in doubt, juries convict. Every lawyer knows that, and most defendants learn that. Scott knew it for sure when he looked at the jurors, and they averted their eyes. As if from a train wreck.
When Scott turned back, he saw Melvyn Burke sitting next to Terri Rawlins in the front row behind the prosecution table. Melvyn had attended every day of the trial. He had once been where Scott now was, wondering if a jury would acquit or convict an innocent person. He too had been looking in the jurors' eyes, and now his eyes turned to Scott. He had seen what Scott had seen, and he too knew the jury would vote to convict Rebecca Fenney. They regarded each other for a long moment. Then Melvyn took a noticeable breath and stood. Terri grabbed his arm and cried, 'No! She killed him!'
The commotion caught the judge's attention.
'Mr. Burke, is there a problem?'
He pulled away from Terri's grasp and walked forward.
'Your Honor, I need a minute of the court's time. Outside the jury's presence.'
'This is highly unusual, Mr. Burke.'
But Melvyn Burke had practiced law on the Island longer than the judge had been alive. He commanded respect. So the judge excused the jury and motioned Melvyn forward. The prosecution and defense teams followed.
'What is it, Melvyn?'
'This.'
