Page 76 of Desert Loyalties
Cheng is already on his feet. “Your Honor, the defendant threatened this witness directly. That goes to pattern of behaviour under Rule 404(b). We’re not saying she saw the murder. We’re saying she experienced the same intimidation the defendant has used against others. It’s consistent. It shows motive and method.”
He’s trying not to sound too eager. Failing.
Judge Benton rubs the bridge of her nose.
“Let’s be very clear here,” she says. “The court is well aware that Rule 404(b) does not allow character assassination. But pattern,motive, intent; those are admissible, if supported by relevant, credible testimony.”
She looks at Christina. Then at Cheng. Then back at Serena, who’s wiping a tear that may or may not be real.
“The court will allow the testimony to stand for the limited purpose of establishing alleged pattern, not as direct evidence of the charge of murder.”
She flicks through some papers before setting them down. There’s a pause. No dramatic gavel.
“On Count One- Murder and Count Three-Conspiracy, the court finds the government has not established probable cause. The body recovered in Nye County does not match Kyle Donahue, nor has the prosecution presented sufficient evidence linking the defendant to his disappearance or death.”
I feel there’s a but coming.
“However,” Judge Benton continues, “on Count Two-Witness tampering and Count Four-Obstruction of justice, this court does find sufficient probable cause to proceed. The witness’s testimony, while contested, presents a consistent narrative of intimidation and coercion that aligns with the statutory definition.”
I don’t flinch. But my jaw’s tight enough to creak.
“Bail will remain in place,” Benton adds. “However, in light of today’s testimony, the following modifications will apply: Mr. Lloyd is to have no contact, direct or indirect, with the witness Serena Albright. That includes through third parties. He will also continue to wear a GPS ankle monitor, submit to weeklycheck-ins with Pretrial Services, and abide by his current home confinement conditions.”
“Ms. LaGuerta,” the judge says, turning to Christina, “Mr. Cheng. We will reconvene for a status conference in four weeks’ time. If there is no negotiated resolution by then, the court will set a trial date and move the case to a district judge.”
Christina stands; voice steady but urgent. “Your Honor, my client’s business and personal life are severely impacted by the prolonged uncertainty. We respectfully request that this court set a firm trial date and begin jury selection as soon as possible to avoid further harm.”
She glances at Cheng. “Mr. Cheng, is the government prepared to accommodate a faster timeline if necessary?”
Cheng clears his throat. “Your Honor, the government requires adequate time to review new evidence and prepare accordingly. While we understand the defence’s concerns, rushing could compromise the integrity of the case.”
Christina speaks again, voice firm but measured.
“With all due respect, Your Honor, my client has a right to a speedy trial under the Sixth Amendment. The ongoing delays are causing significant harm. We ask the court to prioritize this matter accordingly.”
Judge Benton leans forward, considering both arguments carefully. Then she nods thoughtfully and speaks with authority: “Understood. While the government is entitled to sufficient preparation time, the defendant’s right to a speedy trial is paramount. This court will set a firm trial date no later than eight weeks from today and will begin jury selection promptly.”
Judge Benton continues, “This matter will be assigned to a district judge for all further proceedings, including trial.”
The courtroom falls silent for a beat before the sharp sound of the gavel echoes through the room.
“Court is adjourned.”
Chapter 32
SKYE
Two out of four. Not bad.
Instead of four felonies, he's only facing two now. It’s a win, technically but no one’s popping champagne. We don’t celebrate. We just head back to the house, where Christina’s already making plans, thinking ten steps ahead like always. She wants to go over what happens next and what she needs from us to defend him.
The drive back is weirdly quiet.
Christina’s in a separate car, probably with her assistant. That leaves just me and him. I’m relieved and tense all at once, like the decision today gave me permission to breathe again but only halfway.
He’s staring out the window, then suddenly says, “We should go away.”
I glance over. “What?”
