Where The Hell is Boulevard?

  EPILOGUE

  May 22 (6 Months Later)

  The trial ended abruptly back on that 15th day of November in Judge Rhonda Goodman’s chambers. Of course, the formalities of excusing the jury and thanking them for their service were observed. With no further details allowed to be shared, the jury and others walked away with many unanswered questions. Most of the jury, however, figured that more had obviously come out turning the finger of ultimate guilt for the death of Javier Molina away from Eddie McDermott and his friends. They certainly had heard the testimony regarding the actual cause of death, but still had no inkling who the real perp might be.

  They all clearly recalled Buck Johnson’s initial admonition, “Don’t assume!”

  The media following the trial largely came up empty-handed, unable to plaster the headlines or TV lead lines with the hate crime of the year. Despite their pressing, no one spoke of the details revealed in Judge Goodman’s chambers that day and the story soon died.

  But it came to pass that the media’s inability to create a frenzy about something would turn out to be short lived.

  As Eddie McDermott began serving his one year in the county youth camp and the other boys having struck similar deals, Buck felt he should have at least been awarded a case of his favorite beer, Fat Tire, from the guys at the public defender’s office for exonerating their clients as to the most serious charges they faced.

  But, in reality, Buck’s only reward, over and above the well-earned fee for his services, would be that somewhat fragile notion that justice was done, and that a well-deserved trip with his buddies on their bikes to parts unknown was now on the horizon.

  The media finally got their piece of the action as the trial of José María Cardozo proceeded in March in Federal Court. A big drug cartel prosecution gave them fodder for daily updates. Furthermore, details of the Molina killing, attempted cover-up and, as much of the operation the federal government felt it needed to reveal for a conviction, was soon laid out in the Cardozo trial.

  As that trial proceeded, and even in spite of the pomp and circumstances surrounding the defense provided by Attorney Garza, Sally Ferguson secured her conviction of José María Cardozo on myriad crimes and related charges. And the public, to the extent still interested, finally learned the balance of the story of what really happened outside of Dante’s Tavern in the dusty little town of Boulevard, California that hot September afternoon.

  At least maybe now people would know the answer to the question, “Where the hell is Boulevard?”