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“Four weeks ago, at a gun sale in Jacksonville.”
“Can you substantiate this sale?”
Schwartz produced two sheets of paper. “Here are a copy of the bill of sale and a copy of the federal form that Mr. Sweeney filled out and signed.”
Oxenhandler handed the papers to the clerk. “Entered in evidence. I have no further questions.” He returned to his seat.
The judge turned to Skene. “Any questions, Mr. Skene?”
“No, Your Honor,” Skene replied.
“Any further witnesses, Mr. Oxenhandler?”
“Your Honor, may counsel approach the bench?”
She nodded.
Holly watched as the two lawyers went to the bench and had a spirited conversation that went on for perhaps three minutes. Oxenhandler was calm and insistent, while Skene seemed outraged.
“Step back,” the judge said finally, and the two attorneys stood near their respective tables.
“Do you have a motion, Mr. Oxenhandler?” the judge asked.
“Move for dismissal of all charges,” the lawyer replied.
“Mr. Skene?” the judge said.
“The state does not oppose the motion, Your Honor, but reserves the right to bring these charges again at a later date.”
The judge said, “Motion granted, charges are dismissed. Mr. Sweeney, Ms. Cooper, you are free to go.”
“Your Honor,” Oxenhandler said, “will you restore Mr. Sweeney’s van and possessions?”
“So ordered,” the judge said. “Court is adjourned.”
Holly sat on the bench, unmoving, astounded. So what, if Sweeney owned a different gun? That didn’t mean he didn’t own more than one. She stood up and intercepted Skene as he walked down the aisle. “Marty, what happened?”
“I’ll call you later,” he said, looking furious. “We’ll need to talk.”
Holly moved down the aisle and left the courtroom. Hurd Wallace and Bob Hurst were standing in the hallway outside, talking animatedly. They attempted to question Skene, but he brushed them off and stalked from the building. She started toward Wallace and Hurst, but stopped when someone took her arm from behind. She turned to find Jackson Oxenhandler towering over her.
“May I speak to you for a moment in private?” he asked.
She followed him to an unpopulated corner of the hallway. “What happened in there?”
“I explained to the judge that a search of records showed that the thirty-two Smith and Wesson revolver is registered to Amanda Smith Wallace, who is the ex-wife of Hurd Wallace.”
Holly’s mouth dropped open.
“Your mouth is open,” Oxenhandler said.
Holly closed it, but she was unable to say anything.
“I disclosed this at the bench, rather than in open court, to avoid publicly embarrassing the department. I trust you’ll take the appropriate steps.”
Holly nodded.
Oxenhandler smiled a little. “I’ll call you for dinner,” he said, then walked away.
