Texas' Rio Grande Valley produced the state's vegetables and melons. They stopped, and Scott pointed at a big watermelon.
"Three big slices."
The old man leaned down behind his makeshift counter and lifted a huge green watermelon. He placed it on the white wax paper that covered the counter. He turned then came back with a large knife. He gripped the knife with the blade pointing downward, raised it about two feet above the belly of the melon, then stabbed the defenseless watermelon in its gut all the way to the hilt of the knife. He then dragged the knife down lengthwise, slicing the melon. He removed the knife, flipped the melon around, and repeated the procedure down the other side. The melon fell open into equal halves, exposing the red pulp… just like the watermelon they had seen in the refrigerator at Rebecca's house on their tour of the crime scene.
FIFTY-TWO
The judge had decided to finish the trial that Saturday-the cable network would be in Chicago on Monday, and she wanted a verdict live on national TV, much like the networks want a winner on Sundays at golf tournaments. So at nine the next morning, the sixth day of trial, Scott stood and said, "State your name, please."
"Raul Rodriguez."
The Assistant D.A. stood. "Objection. This witness was not on the list."
But before the judge could rule, the D.A. said, "State withdraws our objection."
Scott turned back to the witness. "Mr. Rodriguez, have you ever met me?"
"No, I have not. But I did see you, yesterday."
"Where?"
"At my produce stand on the seawall."
"And what did I do?"
"You bought three slices of watermelon."
"Well, Mr. Rodriguez, my name is Scott Fenney and I'd like to buy another slice of watermelon."
Mr. Rodriguez smiled. "I will be at my stand when I leave here."
"I need it now."
"But I do not have a watermelon."
"I do."
The doors opened, and Carlos pushed in a rolling cart on which was riding a large green watermelon. He placed the cart in front of the witness stand.
"Mr. Rodriguez, would you please step down and cut a slice out of this watermelon for me?"
"I would need a knife."
"I've got one right here for you."
Which knife just happened to be identical to the murder weapon, a fact not lost on the jury. Mr. Rodriguez stepped down from the stand and over to the cart. He took the knife, held it with the blade pointing down, and then stabbed the watermelon. He sliced it in half, then cut a slice out and handed it to Scott.
"Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez."
The D.A. had no questions for the witness. Scott recalled Rebecca to the stand and played the video Bobby had made of the kitchen and the refrigerator on their visit to the crime scene. He stopped the video with the image frozen on the watermelon.
"Ms. Fenney, this watermelon was in your refrigerator at your house on the day that Trey Rawlins was killed, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"When did you buy that watermelon?"
"I didn't. Trey did. It was there when I returned from Houston."
"Did you cut this watermelon?"
"Yes, I did."
"When did you cut it?"
"After we came back from Gaido's."
"And how did you cut it?"
"The same way that Mr. Rodriguez did."
"Why?"
"Because that's how you cut a big watermelon. Every Texan knows that."
The jurors did; they were nodding. Bobby nudged Scott and gestured at his laptop. Karen had emailed a "Yes!" Scott stepped over and picked up the murder weapon.
"You used this knife that same night to cut the watermelon that was in your refrigerator?"
"Yes, I did."
"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?"