To explain the sofa, among other details of the case that had been uncovered, Brown called GBI agent Kimberly Williams.

Williams pointed out from the stand that yes, the couch tested positive for blood. But no, it was not Alan’s or Terra’s DNA profile. Still, what the lab had found instead of blood was perhaps much more telling: a certain common household chemical.

On cross-examination John Wiley tried to poke holes in the fact that Jessica and Jeff gave Agent Williams and Investigator Sheron Vance different times for dropping the kids off at Jessica’s mother’s house on the night of the murders. But he got nowhere. Then he started in on the couch and how Williams had drawn conclusions—speculations—about it.

In response to Williams not answering the way Wiley had perhaps wanted, Brown asked Williams on redirect, “Mr. Wiley asked you about this [sofa] being luminoled and revealing the presence of blood. What else did that luminol reveal? Did it reveal the presence of bleach?”

“Yes, sir,” Williams answered.

“Where it had been wiped?”

“What appeared to be that, yes.”

Brown played a smart game. Trial lawyers liked to ask questions that they knew the answers to, not those they didn’t. John Wiley, it seemed, pulled things out of midair to try and trip up the witnesses. In Wiley’s defense, however, one would have to assume that his biggest problem in defending Jessica was that he had a pathological liar for a client.

Brown and Hodge next brought in their expert on ballistics, Ed Moran. Moran explained the details surrounding what was a compelling photograph of two bullets—one found in the trunk of Alan’s rental car, and the other found inside of the McCords’ garage—side by side. As one looked at the photo, it was not hard to tell with a naked, untrained eye that they had identical tool markings. And that, Moran explained, meant those projectiles had been fired from the same gun barrel. Now, how could a bullet fired from a weapon in the McCord home, and a bullet fired from the same barrel found underneath Alan’s body, have been fired by anybody else besides Jessica and Jeff McCord? Save for a setup, there was no other explanation.

After Moran left the stand, Brown recalled Hoover detective Peyton Zanzour, who answered one question to clear the record.

“Mr. Zanzour, I apologize,” Brown said, “I neglected to ask earlier. This location of Myrtlewood Drive, the house of the defendant and her husband, Jeff McCord, is that located in the Birmingham Division of Jefferson County, Alabama?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all. Thank you.”

“I don’t have any questions,” John Wiley said.

“You can step down,” Judge Vinson told Zanzour.

Brown stood. Whispered something to Hodge. Then: “May it please the court,” he said, “the state rests.”

“All right. Ladies and gentlemen,” Vinson said, “this has timed out very well for our afternoon break. And always at this point in a trial, there are things I have to take up with the attorneys. So we’ll let you have your afternoon break.”

Wiley made an immediate motion for verdict of acquittal. It was based on, he said, “The state’s failure to make out a prima facie case of capital murder, just for the insufficiency of the evidence and, in particular, for the state’s failure to prove during its case that the two bodies are these of Alan and Terra Bates.”

The reach—it was worth a shot.

“I’ll overrule your motion,” the judge said politely.

Court adjourned at 3:45 P.M.

60

On Valentine’s Day, a Friday, both sides were back in the packed courtroom by 9:00 A.M. Roger Brown and Laura Hodge knew from speaking to Judge Vinson and John Wiley in chambers the previous afternoon that this day was going to be one of the more memorable of the trial. The gallery was a bit stirred, waiting and wondering if Jessica was going to take the stand, or would she roll the dice and keep her mouth shut. Those who knew Jessica were certain that she would demand to have the last word. There was not a situation in her life where Jessica had not given her two cents, and then some. If nothing else, she was relentless when it came to letting people know how she felt and what she thought.

After the morning gavel the judge took care of a few preliminary matters. Then John Wiley stood and, with a sense of reluctance in his voice, said, “The defense calls Jessica McCord.”

She stood. Walked to the stand like a peacock. Everyone watched. Here was the star of the show, raising her right hand, preparing to tell her side of this terrible tragedy.

There was a certain smugness to Jessica she couldn’t hide. It was in the way she carried herself. How she smiled out of the corner of her mouth. The way she looked at people and seemingly said, How dare y’all not believe me.

All Jessica had said since her arrest was that she needed her day in court to explain her innocence. Then everyone would see that she’d had nothing to do with killing Alan and his lovely wife. Well, here was that chance.

Wiley walked Jessica through her family life.

The children.

Home.

Marriages.

She seemed nervous, Wiley pointed out. Though Jessica hardly showed it once she found her groove.

“I’m sorry,” she said after Wiley told her to relax.

As Jessica talked about meeting and marrying Alan, she expressed a version of the marriage that few had heard. She claimed she and Alan were “incompatible” on every level, especially in the bedroom, at church and at the political polls—seemingly three deal breakers in the fine print of a romance contract.

Then the attack on Alan’s fathering skills began. Jessica talked about how bad a father Alan was for not wanting to see his children or maintain any sort of regular visitation schedule with them. She gave the impression that after the divorce Alan was more interested in his work than his kids.

This raised eyebrows. But not in the way, perhaps, that Jessica might have wanted.

As she got comfortable, it was clear that Jessica McCord was not going to give brief, succinct answers to the questions her lawyer asked. Rather, she launched into tedious criticisms of Alan, his attorney and the way Alan had handled the custody matter from day one.

Bash the dead guy.

It got to a point where—taking into consideration all of the evidence the state had presented already—one had to wonder if Jessica was talking about the same person. The same life. Or even the same trial. For example, Jessica accused Frank Head of “not seeing” her in court on several of those occasions he had claimed she failed to show up for a custody hearing.

Many wondered if she was actually being serious when she said this. It was either that, or Frank Head must have been wearing a blindfold.

She even went so far as to blame Alan for the continued court postponements, saying he was always away on tour with the theater group.

To anyone who knew the history, Jessica’s answers were pathetic and so transparent that it was hard not to laugh out loud in open court.

“When did you first learn,” Wiley asked, “that the judge had held you in contempt of court and issued a warrant for your arrest?”

Jessica repeated the question.

“Yes,” Wiley affirmed.

“I did not learn that until I was arrested.”

So Jessica was theoretically asking everyone to believe that for over one year she’d had no idea an arrest warrant had been issued in her name. For twelve months she did not realize she was being held in contempt of court. Would a jury believe this, or resent the idea that Jessica felt she could get away with such an outright lie? After all, this same statement was coming from a woman whose husband was a cop at the time!