Friday Afternoon
By the time Alan Perez took the stand, the jurors had already heard “Riverbend” so many times it might as well have been a character.
Eleanor needed to change the way they saw it.
Perez was in his late forties, hairline creeping back, a neat ring of keys clipped to his belt. He wore a button-down with the Riverbend HOA logo stitched over the pocket and the expression of a man who would very much rather be anywhere else.
“Mr. Perez,” Eleanor said, “what is your position with the Riverbend Homeowners’ Association?”
“Grounds and maintenance manager,” he said. “I handle common areas—walking trail, playgrounds, that kind of thing.”
“How long have you had that role?”
“Six years.”
“And before that?”
He shifted slightly.
“I was on the maintenance crew,” he said. “Hired on when the first houses started goin’ up. That was… ’09? ’10?”
“So you’ve been working at Riverbend in one capacity or another since shortly after the subdivision began,” Eleanor said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stepped a little closer to the rail.
“Can you describe the walking trail for the jury?”
Perez nodded.
“It runs along the greenway,” he said. “Starts up by the main entrance, curves behind the houses, then cuts down toward the dog park. Paved the whole way. Like a bike path.”
“Is it open to the public?”
“Yes, ma’am. HOA maintains it, but anybody can use it. Folks walk their dogs, kids ride bikes. We get runners from town, too, ’cause it hooks into the bigger trail system.”
“Over the years you’ve worked there,” Eleanor said, “about how many people would you estimate use that trail in a given week?”
“Hundreds,” he said. “Nice days, you see folks on it all the time. Mornin’ walkers, after-work joggers. Weekend it’s busier.”
Eleanor nodded.
“From your perspective as the person in charge of maintaining that greenway,” she said, “do you have any way to tell this jury who, specifically, left that paved path and went into the tree line over the past eight years?”
“No, ma’am,” Perez said. “There’s no cameras out there, no sign-in. Anyone usin’ the path could’ve stepped off into those trees.”
“Does anyone patrol that trail?”
“Sheriff’s deputies drive through the neighborhood,” he said. “But the trail itself? No, ma’am. We just keep it mowed and clear.”
“Have you ever had to clear trash or items from the wooded area between the trail and the back fences of the houses?”
“Sure,” he said. “Kids throw drink cans, folks drop water bottles. We’ve pulled out old lawn chairs, a busted cooler, even a bike once.”
“Anything to keep people out?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “It’s just woods. Folks cut through where they want. Some of the dog walkers let their dogs run in there.”
