“As I said earlier, yes.”
“And theft multiple times?”
“Yes.”
He approached the witness and glared at him. “And you aren’t on trial today, are you?”
He cocked his head. “No.”
“You killed Dr. Waters with a gun. Shot him three times in the head. And yet you aren’t sitting over there where my sister is.”
“She paid me to kill her husband.”
“So you say, Mr. Pike. But isn’t it true, sir, that the reason you aren’t sitting over there beside my sister is that you cut a deal with the prosecution?”
“I wouldn’t call it that. I signed a proffer agreement where I agreed to tell the truth.”
“And you also gave them your signed confession in exchange for that proffer agreement, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your Honor, at this time I’d like to publish to the jury the proffer agreement executed between the state and Waylon Pike, which has been marked as State’s Exhibit 2.”
Pausing so that each juror could have a moment with the document, Jason finally cleared his throat. “You understand that if the prosecution is happy with your testimony today, then you may get a more favorable plea offer from them, don’t you?”
“All I agreed to do was tell the truth.”
“That’s not my question, Mr. Pike. My question is that you hope your testimony today leads to a better plea offer, right?”
Pike glanced at the prosecution table. “Yes, sir.”
Jason took his time walking to the jury railing before turning back to the witness. “And you’re currently being charged with capital murder, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And so, today, if you say the ‘right’ things”—Jason used his fingers to make quotation marks upon uttering the word right—“you could save your life, couldn’t you?”
“All I’m supposed to do is tell the truth.”
Jason retrieved the criminal background document from the evidence table and held it out in front of him, looking at the jury. “And it’s your testimony that you’ve done that.”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
Jason smirked and looked at Pike. Then he shook his head. “No further questions.”
There was a short recess after Waylon Pike left the stand. Jason walked out of the courtroom and into the bathroom. He went into a stall, locked the door, and took a deep breath. Then, making sure to not make a sound, he flexed like he might be Arnold Schwarzenegger. Then he beat his chest a couple of times with his fist and shadowboxed the interior of the stall. Finally, he exited the enclosure and walked to the sink. He splashed water on his face several times and looked at himself in the mirror. It was the first cross-examination he’d ever conducted in court, and he was tingling with excitement and fear.
He thought he’d done well but knew he couldn’t be sure. As he came out of the restroom, he tried to calm his breathing. He saw Izzy, who’d watched from the back of the courtroom. She sidled up next to him and whispered into his ear.
“That was fantastic, Jason Rich.”
He exhaled with relief as she squeezed his arm. “Thank you.”
“Now what?”
Jason took in another breath of air. “We brace ourselves.”
65
Knox Rogers had warned Jason that the first day of trial for a defendant, whether it was a criminal or a medical malpractice defendant, was always the worst. “You just have to sit there and take it. And like Professor McMurtrie used to tell us at Alabama, ‘Don’t ever let them see you sweat.’”
Jason had Professor Thomas McMurtrie’s Evidence handbook on his shelf at the Birmingham office, and he’d brought it with him for this trial. He knew the great man, a legend in the state, had actually returned to the courtroom and hit a huge verdict after teaching for forty years. He’d also defended a couple high profile murder cases in his seventies before passing of cancer.
Jason concentrated on his breathing and remembered something his father liked to say. “A trial is a marathon, not a sprint.”
He touched his sister’s hand and whispered in her ear, “Hang in there.”
The state’s second witness was county coroner Dr. Clem Carton, who testified that the cause of Braxton Waters’s death was three bullet wounds to his head. He further testified that the wounds were consistent with those caused by a 9 mm pistol. Finally, he opined that the time of Waters’s death was between 9:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m.