Page 82 of Desert Loyalties
Judge Keller speaks again. “As this matter has been moved from magistrate to district court following the defence’s request for a speedy trial, we will proceed directly. No further continuances will be entertained unless absolutely necessary.”
She peers over her glasses. “Understood, counsel?”
Cheng gives a stiff nod. Christina mirrors it, smoother.
The judge turns to me for the first time. “Mr. Lloyd, you’ve been advised of the charges against you- Count Two,Witness Tampering. Count Four, Obstruction of Justice. Do you understand what you’re charged with?”
My voice sounds low and steady, almost too steady, even to me. “Yes, Your Honor.”
She leans back, steepling her fingers. “Then let’s begin.”
Cheng stands and strides to the podium, paper in hand, eyes on me like I already belong behind bars.
“Your Honor, the government will show that Mr. Lloyd deliberately interfered with a federal witness tied to an ongoing criminal investigation, and obstructed justice by—”
I tune out a little after that. Not because I’m not listening, but because I’ve heard this song before. Different courtroom, different hearing, same dance. The difference this time? It matters.
Christina scribbles a note on a yellow legal pad and slides it toward me without looking: Let him talk. Let me work.
I flick my eyes toward her. She doesn’t glance back. Just waits, composed and lethal in her quiet way.
I lean back in my chair, keeping my breathing even. Judge Keller watches everything, the way Cheng moves, the way I blink. She’s the kind who builds her ruling out of silences and micro-expressions. A bench trial means no jury. No twelve people to sway. Just her.
Just one person I have to convince I’m not the monster they’ve painted me to be.
And maybe I am. But even monsters deserve a defence.
Christina rises, adjusts her notes, and looks directly at Judge Keller.
“Your Honor, today the government asks this court to convict my client, Mr. Drake Lloyd, on serious charges, witness tampering and obstruction of justice, despite a glaring absence of evidence. There is no physical evidence linking Mr. Lloyd to any wrongdoing. No witness who can directly testify to the alleged acts. The prosecution’s case rests largely on hearsay and speculation.
You will hear from one witness, an ex-girlfriend, who claims Mr. Lloyd threatened her. But even her testimony lacks corroboration. There are no independent witnesses to support her account. And the government offers nothing more concrete.
This isn’t just a case. It’s a witch hunt. When the authorities first investigated, they tried to charge Mr. Lloyd with murder, without a body. They want you to believe that a man named Mr. Donahue is dead. Yet, as far as anyone knows, Mr. Donahue could be out there, alive and well, hiding from the investigation.
Mr. Lloyd is a married man, a business owner, a member of the community who runs several legitimate enterprises. His involvement in a peaceful club, which the prosecution seems eager to emphasize, is irrelevant to these charges and should not be used to cloud this court’s judgment.
The government must meet its burden beyond a reasonable doubt. Based on what you will hear or more accurately, what you willnothear, the evidence simply isn’t there. And for that reason, we ask the court to find Mr. Lloyd not guilty of all charges.”
Judge Keller looks up from her notes, her tone measured but firm. “Thank you, counsel. The court will now hear the government’s case.”
She glances toward Prosecutor Cheng. “Mr. Cheng, you may call your first witness.”
Cheng nods and rises smoothly. He steps toward the well and turns to the courtroom. “The United States calls Agent Munez to the stand.”
The same DEA agent, Munez, takes the stand. He looks different this time; sharper, better prepared. No more fumbling answers or hesitant stares. Cheng wastes no time, running through the same questions as before, with a few extra details thrown in, as if polishing a rough stone.
When Cheng finishes, Christina stands and steps forward. She begins her cross-examination like she’s been waiting for this moment. After asking a few questions as last time, this time she does for the kill.
“SA Munez,” she says smoothly, “were you aware that Mr. Donahue’s wife overdosed?”
Munez nods. “Yes, ma’am. That’s why he was cooperating with us, trying to help find the drug dealer in the Horsemen.”
Christina leans in slightly, voice measured. “Did you ever consider the possibility that it was Mr. Donahue himself from whom his wife got the drugs?”
Munez frowns. “No. Why would he come to us if he was involved?”
She lets that hang for a beat, then continues. “Could it have been guilt? Mr. Donahue was cheating on his wife, according to the statement of a Ms Albright. Could it be that his wife took the drugs belonging to her husband to punish him?”
