Samantha’s testimony and the amazing video footage turned the trial on its head.
Russell played the video on the big projection screen while Samantha was on the witness stand. He paused the video intermittently to ask her questions to help clarify details of what was happening.
I watched with a minimal grin on my face while the moments before I’d gotten off my bike for the first time unwound on the screen. I did my best not to look smug in front of the jury. It was damn hard.
The video had close ups on Grossman’s face as he shouted at Samantha and tried to pry her car window down. He looked like a raging lunatic. The jury watched in stark, wide-eyed amazement as Grossman frothed at the mouth in the video and turned beet red while he called Samantha a bitch, a slut, a whore, and a pinhead. One of the female jurors giggled in disbelief when Grossman kicked the door of Samantha’s VW.
The knock out punch, both literally and figuratively, came when Grossman lunged at me in the video. I had been standing calmly in front of him. Everyone in the courtroom could clearly see that Grossman had tried to tackle me before I’d side stepped out of his way and punched him.
I glanced over and saw Deputy District Attorney George Schlosser running a hand through his hair. He looked defeated, like he’d just been punched.
When Russell finished asking Samantha questions and sat down, Schlosser was finishing a quiet discussion with his assistants. After a moment, they all nodded at each other.
Schlosser stood up and said, “Your honor, due to the unforeseen developments regarding the evidence in this case, the state has decided to drop all charges against the defendant.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Schlosser? I don’t want to come back and do this again,” the judge said.
“Yes, your honor,” Schlosser said.
“Let the record show that in the matter of the State of California vs. Christos Manos, case number SD-2013-K-071183A,” the judge intoned, “the State has dropped all charges. She banged her gavel. “Case dismissed. Mr. Manos, you are free to go.”
For a second, I couldn’t believe my ears.
The huge smile that spread across Russell’s face proved that I hadn’t been hallucinating. “Congratulations, son,” he said while shaking my hand and squeezing my shoulder vigorously, “let’s agree never to do this again. Feel me?”
“Agreed,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.
He pointed at me with a jabbing finger. “I mean it, son. No more bullshit. You’ve got better things to do than waste my time in a courtroom.”
“You know me too well,” I smiled. “I promise, no more courtroom bullshit.”
With any luck, I’d be able to live up to my promise.
SAMANTHA
I practically jumped over the witness stand trying to get to Christos when the judge dismissed the case.
Christos came out from behind the defense table and I leapt into his arms.
“We did it!” I squealed.
He spun me around once and set me down. “No, you did it, agápi mou. You won this case single handed.” He glanced at his lawyer and said, “I mean, Russell helped, but you, Samantha, stole the show. Samantha, meet my attorney, Russell Merriweather. He’s an old friend of the family.”
I shook Russell’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”
“Christos is right, Ms. Smith,” Russell smiled. “You should send him a bill.”
I grinned. “Nah, I’ll figure out a way to make him pay for it with services rendered.”
Christos chuckled. “Gladly.”
Brianna Johnson walked around the defense table and frowned at Christos. “Christos, how could you forget to mention to Russell and I that your girlfriend was at the crime scene?”
Christos shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.
“You could’ve saved yourself a whole lot of time and trouble had you told us sooner,” Brianna admonished.
Christos cracked out a dimpled grin. “I was trying to save Samantha a whole lot of time and trouble.” He rubbed his hand against my shoulder. “She has better things to do.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Russell was right, Christos. You are crazy!” I looked at Brianna for agreement.
She gave me a sisterly smile and shook her head, “Men! I swear, if it wasn’t for us women, they wouldn’t be able to tie their own shoes!”
“I know, right?” I smiled.
“Hey,” Christos quipped, “I’m standing right here.”
“Good. Then maybe what we’re saying might sink in.” Brianna winked at me. “Despite his thick head, Christos is a good young man. But don’t you let him weasel out of doing a few chores to make up for all the trouble he’s put you through.”
“I won’t,” I smiled.
Spiridon walked up a moment later with someone who could only be Christos’ dad. They both exchanged big hugs with Christos.
“The Manos men,” Russell said proudly, smiling at all three of them, “all up in this here thing.”
“Samantha,” Christos said, “I want you to meet my dad, Nikolos Manos.”
I shook Nikolos’ hand. He looked like a slightly older version of Christos. He was as dashing as his son and had the same priceless blue eyes. Seeing the three of them together, it was obvious that Christos was going to be painfully gorgeous at every stage of life. I know people said that George Clooney got better looking as he got older, but Nikolos and Spiridon put poor George to shame.
“I’ve heard all about you,” Nikolos smiled. “My father tells me that you’re a good young woman, and a talented artist too. Maybe you could teach my son a thing or two about painting. He needs all the help he can get,” he winked.
Spiridon smiled at me. “Yes. Samoula has moved into the house to be Christos’ private painting tutor. Isn’t that right, koritsáki mou?” He patted me affectionately on the shoulder.
I was so overwhelmed by all of it, the relief that Christos’ trial was over and the sense of having a family that I absolutely adored, that I couldn’t speak. I smiled and nodded my reply as tears blurred my vision. I did my best to hold them in as the group of us walked out of the courtroom together.
Now that it was over, I secretly hoped that would be the last time I ever set foot in a courtroom. Between Taylor Lamberth, Damian Wolfram, and Christos, I’d had enough trials to last a lifetime.
CHRISTOS
I inhaled a deep breath of mellow afternoon air as we stood in front of the Hall of Justice in the San Diego sun.
I was free.
It still hadn’t quite sunk in. Part of me had been fully prepared to be led out of the courtroom in handcuffs and trucked off to prison after my trial. The foggy claws of that fear still nicked at the back of my neck. Not to worry. They’d fade. I was in the clear. I was with my family and friends, and I was free.
“Who wants to celebrate?” I smiled. “I was thinking drinks and dinner at the Yard House up the street? I’m buying.”
“You’ve spent enough money on me already,” Russell smiled. “We can all head over there and I’ll pick up the tab.”
“Christos Manos?” some random guy walked up and asked abruptly. He had come from the direction of the Hall of Justice and wore an expensive suit and held a briefcase. Was he a court clerk or something?
I narrowed my eyes. “Who wants to know?”
“Are you Christos Manos?” the guy asked again.
Now that I’d had a chance to look at him, he didn’t seem threatening. But he held a thick white business envelope in his hand. “Yeah, I’m him. What do you want?”
The guy raised his arm and jabbed the envelope at me. “You’ve been served.”
I shook my head and took the envelope from him. He immediately walked away.