Page 35 of Desert Loyalties

MANDRAKE

Yesterday was good, at least, that’s what Christina said. She claimed even Judge Keller looked like she was over it, the whole mess of a case starting to smell like what it was: thin air and bad guesses.

We’ve been at the courthouse since eight. It’s past nine now, and we’re all watching Serena get sworn in. She’s dressed like a substitute teacher again, blouse buttoned up to the throat, skirt to the knees, like the guilt might crawl out of her skin if she doesn’t press it down hard enough.

Same song, second verse. How do you know Mr. Lloyd? How did you know Mr. Donahue?

Cheng adds a new one this time, trying to be slick: Did you sleep with Mr. Donahue?

She nods, eyes wide like an innocent when she’s anything but.

Cheng almost strolls back to his table when it happens.

The courtroom doors swing open. A suit rushes in, breathless. He says something to Cheng who says, “Your Honor, may I approach?”

He’s holding a flash drive. Judge Keller raises one eyebrow, barely moving, then nods. He heads straight to the bench. Christina’s right behind him. They lean in. Low voices. Tight whispers.

From where I’m sitting, I can’t hear anything, but I don’t need to.

Cheng’s got a smirk like he just pulled a rabbit out of his ass. Christina looks pissed.

Then Keller straightens in her seat. “We’ll take a five-minute recess,” she says, voice cool as granite.

She doesn’t leave the bench, just takes off her glasses and leans back slightly while the court deputy calls the recess. The room stirs, murmurs buzzing like flies.

Christina’s back at my side a moment later, kneeling beside my chair, Skye comes to stand beside her.

“They’re saying they finally got access to Donahue’s cloud account. On it was the same video he sent to the police, but this one’s different. It’s dated. Time-stamped.”

I clench my jaw. “Didn’t you get that video tossed?”

She nods, tight and frustrated. “Yeah. The one the cops had didn’t contain metadata. That’s how I got it suppressed. Argued it could’ve been altered, no chain of custody, no timestamp, no verification. But this? This version shows it’s legit. Clean chain. And the judge just ruled it admissible.”

“So, what now?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Now,” she says, straightening, “they’re calling Munez back to the stand to testify about it. Today.” She glances back at the bench, then back to me. “But don’t worry. I’m ready.”

A few beats later, Judge Keller leans forward again, adjusting her robe. “Court is back in session.”

Just like that, the air gets heavier. And the fight continues.

Skye squeezes my shoulder before slipping back quietly. Christina leans in, voice low. “I’m prepared. Or I’d have asked for a continuance.”

Then she’s gone, heels sharp on polished tile as she returns to the podium.

Serena is sitting stiffly on the witness stand, Christina doesn’t ease in. “Ms. Albright, why were you asked to leave the Horsemen compound?”

Serena blinks, slow and deliberate. “Because his girlfriend didn’t like me.” She nods slightly toward where Skye is sitting.

Christina raises an eyebrow but doesn’t bite. “Wasn’t it because you refused to complete the chores assigned to you, which were a condition of your room and board at the Horsemen property?”

Serena shifts in her seat. “She gave me the worst tasks just because I used to fuck Mandrake.”

A murmur ripples through the gallery.

Judge Keller leans forward, sharply. “Ms. Albright. Watch your language in this courtroom.”

Serena flushes, the cracks widening. Her schoolteacher mask slips just a little. “It was just unfair.”

Christina nods, measured. “Did you resent the fact that Mr. Lloyd stopped being intimate with you after Mrs. Lloyd moved into the clubhouse?”

Serena stiffens. “No. It didn’t bother me.” Then, something twists in her expression, bitterness, raw and jagged. Her gaze finds mine, sharp as glass. “Wait, Mrs. Lloyd? I sucked your dick for a year, and you married her?”

The courtroom stutters into stunned silence.

Judge Keller’s gavel strikes once, hard. “That’s enough, Ms. Albright.” Her voice could cut steel.

Christina doesn’t flinch. “No further questions.”

And just like that, Serena’s credibility burns away under the weight of her own mouth.

Agent Munez is sworn in again. Christina watches him with arms crossed, her posture casual but her eyes locked on every twitch. Judge Keller gives a nod, and Cheng doesn’t waste a second.

“Your Honor, at this time, the government requests permission to play Exhibit 27, a recovered video file from the cloud account registered to Kyle Donahue, a.k.a. Locke.”

Keller nods once. “Proceed.”

They roll the screen forward and dim the lights. The court deputy clicks a remote, and the monitor flashes to life.

There he is.

Locke.

Sitting on the edge of his bed. The walls behind him look familiar, plain, beige, the same room I remember crashing in once or twice. His face though… Jesus.

His eyes are bloodshot. He’s gaunt, sickly and haunted. Watching him now, it’s obvious, he was using again. He was spiralling. And somehow, none of us saw it. Or maybe we just didn’t want to.

He clears his throat in the video and speaks in a shaky voice.

“My name is Kyle Donahue. I’m known at the Horsemen club as Locke. Three years ago, my wife, Josie, overdosed on drugs inside the Horsemen compound. My Josie… she was good. She was the only good thing in this world.”

He looks away from the camera, sniffling.

“She would’ve never taken drugs. Someone she trusted… someone I trusted… got her hooked. I believe it was Mandrake, also known as Drake Lloyd. He did this.”

My hands curl into fists on the defence table. Across the courtroom, I can feel eyes on me, even if I won’t meet them.

“Ever since her death, he’s looked at me differently. So much so that he forced me to go to rehab, because he felt guilty. I believe I’m in danger. And if I’m not heard from in the next two days, believe that I am dead. And believe that Mandrake did it.”

The screen goes black.

The courtroom stays that way, silent. No shuffle of paper, no cough, not even a breath. Hell, I’m stunned, and I already know the guy’s dead.

Even I feel bad for the rat in that moment. Not because he blamed me. Not because of what he said. But because the pain in his voice didn’t sound like a lie.

It sounded like a man who’d already given up.