Page 131 of The Proving Ground

“And what was that project?”

“The answer to your question would reveal proprietary information, which I am not allowed to do publicly unless given permission by Tidalwaiv.”

He said it in a clearly rehearsed way that I was sure the jurors picked up on.

“We wouldn’t want you to give up company secrets, Mr. Whittaker,” I said. “Let’s move on. When were you laterally transferred from Project Clair to this secret project you’re on now?”

“It’s not a secret project within the company,” Whittaker responded.

“Got it. Just secret from the public. Can you—”

Mitchell Mason objected to the commentary I was supposedly injecting into my questions. Judge Ruhlin advised me to make sure the sentences I directed to the witness had question marks at the end.

“Will do, Your Honor,” I said. “Mr. Whittaker, could you answer the question? When were you laterally moved from Project Clair to your current position at Tidalwaiv?”

“It would have been almost two years ago,” Whittaker said.

“Can you be more precise than that?”

“Uh, I began 2024 in the new position.”

“That would be about four months after the killing of Rebecca Randolph, correct?”

“If you say so. I don’t know the date of that, because it had nothing to do with my transfer to the new project.”

“Well, let’s see. If you started last year in the new position, then were you told of the transfer before, say, December 2023?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember. Like I said, one thing didn’t have anything to do with the other.”

“Then let me ask you this, since you say you are being honest. When did—”

Mitchell Mason was quickly up on his feet and objecting to the sarcastic tone I had employed in my unfinished question.

“Mr. Haller, you have been warned,” Ruhlin said. “Be civil and on point with your questions. No innuendo needed.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “My apologies if I got carried away.”

I glanced at the jury to make sure they were still paying attention before going back at Whittaker. If Mitchell Mason was upset with my sarcasm now, he was going to go ballistic with where I went next.

“Mr. Whittaker, were you aware that in December 2023, a month before your lateral transfer took place, a lawsuit was filed against Tidalwaiv claiming gross negligence and product liability in the death of Rebecca Randolph?”

“No, I was not!”

Whittaker said it a little too loudly, a little too sharply, and a little too self-righteously for it to be taken as anything but a rehearsed answer. It was what I had hoped for.

“Then, when did you learn about this lawsuit?” I asked.

“Um, I don’t remember exactly,” Whittaker said.

“So you remember quite well that your transfer had nothing to do with the lawsuit, but you don’t remember when you first learned of the lawsuit—do I have that right?”

Mitchell objected again, claiming that I was badgering the witness, but Ruhlin shot it down quickly and told the witness to answer.

“I just don’t remember exact dates,” Whittaker said. “Why are the dates such a big deal?”

“Mr. Whittaker, the way it works is I ask you the questions,” I responded.

“Right. Then ask a question.”