Chapter 19

"Just a few minutes." Jess inhaled a breath and blew it out. "I love the smell of the sea. It beats the stale air of my office any day. It's been ages since we came out here. I was glad you suggested it. I was just watching a pod of dolphins."

"You said you needed to talk. What's up?"

"Hez says he's an addict. He spotted some telltale signs."

Jess stared out over the water before she shrugged. "I find that hard to believe."

Why was she acting so defensive about this? Was it because she felt responsible for hiring Peter? "If Hez finds out who is behind all this, it will be over. The more help you can give him, the faster that will happen."

Did she even want to wriggle out? Whenever she was around Hez, she felt the same old pull, even though she fought against it. The inexorable tide dragging her into the old patterns was nearly impossible to resist. When she'd married Hez, neither of them had any idea of the challenges and heartache they would face, but wasn't that the way it was with any marriage? Even losing Ella hadn't killed her love for Hez. It was only when he chose booze over her that Savannah had begun to consider what life without him would look like.

Lost in thought, she missed her sister's comment when she stopped at her car. "I'm sorry?"

"Not really. Can't you swing by the office and email it to Hez before you leave? And why such a last-minute trip?"

"Out of Pensacola or Mobile?"

"Either will work."

"I'll be glad to do it."

As her sister drove off, Savannah's phone dinged with a message with the code. She got in her car and ran the window down to enjoy the breeze while she pulled up the airline website. The existing flight was out of Mobile into London for next Thursday, so it was off by a week. It wasn't like Jess to make a mistake. Savannah was able to reschedule it for six tomorrow morning.

***

"All rise," the bailiff intoned. "The United States District Court for the Southern District of Alabama is now in session, the Honorable Daphne Montpelier presiding."

Metal clinked as Hernando and his guard rose from the bench behind Hez. A creak came from the prosecution table as Hale stood.

Hale pushed himself to his feet again. "Donald Hale for the United States."

Hez stood. "Hezekiah Webster for Mr.Morales."

Hale looked back into the gallery. "The government calls Special Agent Harold Jenkins."

Hale picked up a manila folder and notepad, then strode to the lectern. "Agent Jenkins, how long have you been with the FBI?"

"Ten years, the last eight in the Mobile office."

"Please tell the court how you came to be involved in the investigation that led to the arrest of Mr.Morales."

Hale pulled a document out of the folder. "May I approach the witness?"

The judge nodded. "You may."

Hale handed the document to Agent Jenkins, then returned to the lectern. "Is this the tip you mentioned?"

"Did the task force in fact intercept a boat headed for that location at approximately 1:00 a.m. on September third?"

Jenkins nodded. "Yes. We intercepted Mr.Morales's boat."

"He was operating his boat without lights, which is illegal at night. He also tried to evade the Coast Guard vessel that performed the intercept. Finally, he resides in Biloxi, which is over forty miles away by water and longer if you're driving."

"Were drugs found in his boat when he was apprehended?"

"No, but personnel on the Coast Guard vessel saw him throw something overboard while they were pursuing him."

Hez rose. "Objection, lack of foundation."

"Yes, I think there's a fair probability that he committed the charged crimes."

Hale shot an annoyed look at Hez. "I won't waste the court's time by cataloging every drug case Agent Jenkins has handled. Pass the witness." He picked up his papers and returned to his seat.

Jenkins shrugged. "Probably somewhere on the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico."

"You've had divers looking for them, correct?"

"Yes."

"And in two weeks of looking, you haven't found the drugs Mr.Morales allegedly threw overboard, correct?"

"Well, yes—but we're still looking."

"That's a shallow area with good visibility and well-known currents, correct?"

"I don't know. I'm not a diver."

Hez decided to take a gamble and ask a question he didn't know the answer to. "And what did you find in your search?"

"No drugs?"

"No."

"Why hasn't the task force been able to find the drugs in two weeks of searching?"

Jenkins opened and closed his mouth twice before answering. "I don't know."

"I'd like you to look at exhibit one, the tip received by the task force. It simply refers to a ‘delivery'—or entrega in Spanish. It doesn't contain any actual reference to drugs, correct?"

"Not an explicit reference, no."

"And no drugs were found when Mr.Morales and his boat were searched—not even trace amounts, correct?"

"Correct."

"The only thing in his boat was fishing gear, correct?"

"Yes, but there were no fish and he didn't have a license."

Jenkins's eyes widened. "I... I can't speculate on that. He would've come a long way just to fish."

"Is illegal night fishing unusual in that area?"

"I have no idea."

"Switching gears, drug smuggling in the Gulf of Mexico is controlled by the Mexican cartels, correct?"

"In general, yes."

"And when individuals associated with different cartels are incarcerated, they're separated to prevent violence, correct?"

Jenkins eyed Hez warily. "I can't comment on Bureau of Prisons policies."

Hez turned to the judge. "Your Honor, I have a witness who can testify to this policy, but I believe it is well known to both the court and the prosecution, so hopefully a stipulation will be possible."

Judge Montpelier nodded. "Hopefully. And if not, I've handled enough of these cases that I can take judicial notice of it."

Hale stood. "The government so stipulates."

"Thank you." Hez turned back to the judge. "Pass the witness."

Judge Montpelier looked at Hale. "Any redirect?"

"Yes."

"No further questions. The government rests."

"You may step down, Agent Jenkins," the judge said. "Mr.Webster, please call your first witness."

Hez reached back to the table to get his binder of witness notes. "Thank you, Your Honor. The defense calls Alfred Smith."

"Mr. Smith, what is your occupation?"

"I'm a shrimper."

"Do you know the waters off Pelican State Park?"

The old man bobbed his head. "Know 'em better than my own bathtub."

"Is the fishing good?"

"Some of the best fishing in the South," the old man said with a touch of pride.

"Good enough to make someone drive from Biloxi?"

Smith nodded. "Absolutely. Fact is, I've seen boats all the way from Miami."

"Do they always have licenses?"

"Is it fair to say that unlicensed night fishing is a problem?"

"Yep. Parasites. Worse than ticks on a hound dog."

"How deep is the water there?"

Smith shrugged one shoulder. "Varies depending on the tides and where you are, but not more than thirty feet."

"Are the currents strong or unpredictable?"

"Not particularly."

"Have you ever gone diving there?"

"How's the visibility?"

"Good enough for spearfishing. Lot better than Mobile Bay."

"Is it easy to see objects on the bottom?"

Smith nodded. "Sandy bottom, not a lot of weeds."

"Would it be hard to find an object dropped from a boat in that area?"

"Did it take you two weeks?"

"More like twenty minutes. It was easy money."

"Impressive. Would you consider working for the U.S. government?"

Smith laughed and the judge smiled. Hale sat stone-faced.

"Pass the witness."

Hale replaced Hez at the lectern. "Mr.Smith, do you have any experience with drug smuggling?"

"No, sir."

"Pass the witness."

Hez stood. "No redirect, Your Honor. The defense rests."

"All right," the judge said. "I'll hear closing arguments now. Mr.Hale?"

Hale drew himself up to his full height, looming over the courtroom. "Thank you, Your Honor. As the court is well aware, the government need only show that there is a substantial chance that Mr. Morales committed criminal acts. That is enough to establish probable cause for his arrest and detention. The evidence presented today clearly meets that standard." He held up a thick forefinger. "First, the drug interdiction task force got a tip indicating that a smuggler would make a delivery at a particular time and place." Another finger. "Second, Mr. Morales's appearance at the time and place from the tip." And another finger. "Third, Mr. Morales's behavior was entirely consistent with smuggling. He had no lights on his boat, he fled when he saw the Coast Guard, and he threw something overboard. That is more than enough. Further, we don't need to rule out other possibilities. The defense's evidence establishes, at most, that it's also possible that the defendant might have been fishing. But that's irrelevant. The question before the court is whether there's a substantial chance that the defendant was smuggling drugs. It does not matter that there may also be a substantial chance he was doing something else."

Judge Montpelier nodded. "Thank you, Mr.Hale. Mr.Webster?"

"Thank you." The judge turned to Hale. "Any rebuttal?"

He shook his head. "No, Your Honor. The evidence speaks for itself."