Part 1

     Monday, June 5th, 2006, started out ordinarily enough. David and I had spent the night before at the house of our boss, Bradford Yaeger, so we could get an early start on our fishing trip to Assateague that morning. I could tell it was going to be a good day; for once, we had the whole day off.
     I had been working for David Hamilton for about a month. He had called me early in May offering me a job for $10 an hour. I was earning peanuts at a temp agency, so I told him I was game. He explained to me that he was the foreman for a landscaping business that was located in Federalsburg, Maryland, and that the company did work anywhere from Dover to Annapolis. Bradford, the guy who owned the company, turned out to be an old guy who strikingly reminded me of Elmer Fudd.
     David and I worked long hours in several different towns and suburbs. We would usually work six or even seven days a week. Brad had told David he was going to need the truck that morning for a fishing trip, so we decided we'd tag along and enjoy our rare day off. It would be a relief to not have to cut grass and trim hedges that day.
     We woke up that morning and were getting ready to go when Brad told us he had already checked the weather. It had been raining all night in Assateague; not very good weather for a fishing trip. We weren't too disappointed. David told Brad that we'd go finish a weeding job on a driveway in Annapolis that we'd left unfinished recently.
     As we pulled out of Brad’s driveway, David asked what I'd like to do. We could go to work in Annapolis, or we could take the day off like we'd planned. We had both been set on not working that day so we chose the latter. Brad almost always allowed David to use the company truck for personal transportation, and we would often drive up to Camden, New Jersey, after work to visit Casey, David’s girlfriend. It wasn't too hard for David to trick Brad; he was too gullible.
     How to spend the day off was the next question. We had a couple of ideas that we vetoed before David proposed that we go to Baltimore for the day. From what I understood, he'd grown up there and was going to show me around the city a bit. Although I'd passed through a few times, I'd never explored Baltimore before, so I agreed. Baltimore it was.
     David Hamilton and I had met two summers before. We were introduced by some mutual friends of ours. My friend, Craig Maffia, was housemates with David’s girlfriend, Casey. When David and I met back in ‘04, we partied a lot. Hotel parties almost every weekend. We'd gotten drunk together and smoked together. I even introduced him to Katie, a girl who had been living with me, and they hit it off.
     During our party days, I'd seen David get pretty violent when he'd had too much to drink. He'd get sloppy drunk and try to fight people at our parties, but we always calmed him down for fear of getting thrown out of the hotel. It didn't matter if they were strangers or friends; often he'd even try to pick on Craig. Once when David was plastered, he had an argument with Casey and went to Craig’s house to confront her. He threatened Craig and his dad, and slashed their furniture with a knife. Needless to say, David wasn't always very nice when he was drunk.
     In March 2005, my reckless lifestyle came to an abrupt halt when I was arrested for breaking into cars and stealing from them. I spent seven and a half months at Stevenson, a juvenile detention center, and Clarinda Academy, a program in Iowa dedicated to behavior modification. When I came home from Iowa I knew that I needed to stay away from the negative influences back in Delaware, so I moved to Ohio to live with my mom.
     Despite the move to Ohio, it didn't take me long to turn off of the straight and narrow and become involved with the wrong crowd. I was back to getting high and drinking a lot. Understandably, my mom was concerned about my incessant partying and loose behavior, and eventually decided that I could no longer live with her. I was bound for Delaware with a Greyhound ticket in hand. That was in April 2006.
     When I arrived back in Delaware, I began living with a friend of mine, Amy Paczskowski, and her two-year-old daughter, Savannah. It took less than a week around my old party friends for me to realize that this wasn't the life I wanted to live. I called my longtime friend and pastor, Jeff Dyer. He helped get me a job at the temp agency and encouraged me to return to my old church. Although I'd still drink a little from time to time, I wasn't getting drunk anymore, and I quit doing illegal drugs entirely. I was devout in my relationship with God and was happy with my life and who I was. I wasn't a saint, but I was no longer a menace.
     When David first offered me a job, I'll admit I was a bit reluctant. I remembered our history of partying too much, and I knew it was important not to waver in my new lifestyle. The atmosphere and money that I would be making was instantly alluring, but I was a little concerned with David’s possible influence. I let him know that up front and he assured me that he, too, had put that partying lifestyle behind him. He said that he didn't drink or get high at all anymore. He mentioned that he did have a Percocet prescription for his back problems, but he said that he would take regular breaks from the pills to avoid any problems with addiction that sometimes arise with pain prescriptions. I knew about back pain, and as I worked with David I could tell his complaint was legitimate, so I was not alarmed by an occasional use of legal medication. However, after a couple of weeks of working with David, it became obvious that he was dependent on the pills. He would go through his “script” days ahead of time and would then resort to buying them on the street. This was unsettling at times, but I knew that he genuinely needed them to work, and he had said that he would stop taking them from time to time, so it seemed that he had the situation under control. At times, however, it was a source of aggravation, because his connections would often give him the run-around and we'd start work a couple of hours behind schedule. I dealt with it, though, because I enjoyed my job and David and I had developed a strong bond. I later told police that David had even been “like a brother” to me.
     After working with David for a couple of weeks and having several other people help us on jobs, David hired Matt Minker to work with us. That was a relief because Matt sometimes sold Percocets, so David spent less time trying to buy pills elsewhere and we made up for some lost time on job sites. Matt was a pretty cool guy and I enjoyed working with him. He instantly became a friend and we would often hang out at his house when we weren't working. Matt and his wife were expecting a baby soon.
     But let’s get back to the story. After David and I decided we'd spend the day in Baltimore, we first headed back to Dover to take care of a few things. David had a bottle of Tanqueray that we'd received as a “tip” from one of our customers. And while neither one of us got drunk anymore, we decided to drink that day as it was a special day that we were taking for ourselves. I didn't plan on getting too drunk, if at all, and I don't believe David did either, considering he was our driver.
     On our way to Dover from Federalsburg we first stopped at the Royal Farms at Pearson’s Corner to get some snacks and cigarettes. From there we stopped at my apartment in the Brandywine Court Apartments, off of Route 8. Amy, my housemate, is originally from Baltimore, too, and we invited her to come with us. She couldn't commit to coming because she was still waiting for Savannah’s dad, Mark, to come pick up Savannah. Matt had called David to see if he could find some Percocets and David still had to stop by his house to change clothes. We told Amy that when we were done at those two stops we'd call her and see if she would be able to come with us. I grabbed a “sippy cup” from the cabinet and put a little bit of juice in it to mix with the gin. That way I could sip on it slowly and monitor how much I was drinking. We stayed at my house for a few minutes and then were on our way to David’s place.
     It was still early in the day and we probably got to David’s house before noon. We didn't stay there long. We changed our clothes; I borrowed some of David’s clothes because I needed to do laundry. David picked up Matt’s shotgun while we were there, too. He had borrowed Matt’s gun about a week earlier so we could either go shooting at a range or on Brad’s property. David had taken the shotgun out of the truck the day before when Brad had told him he'd need the truck. I'm not sure why he picked it up. I thought that maybe we would go to a shooting range while in Baltimore, or maybe he wanted to return it to Matt before we left. It wasn't loaded then, and I don't remember if he brought shells or not.
     From David’s house in the Magnolia/Camden area we drove to Matt’s place in Kent Acres. We were there for maybe a half an hour while David called some people he knew to try to get the Percocet for Matt. I'm not sure how many exactly Matt was looking for, but I think it was a large amount. After David set up a deal, all three of us piled into the work truck and went out toward Felton to meet David’s connect. We met at the Shell gas station on Route 13 in Felton, and David went to the other man’s car to make the deal.
     It took David a little longer than expected, and he returned to the truck to tell Matt that the guy wanted more money than he had originally told David. I'd seen this happen to David before; unsurprisingly, drug dealers are often less than reliable. Eventually Matt agreed to pay the extra cost and buy the pills. He wasn't particularly happy with the way the deal had gone, but Matt’s an easygoing guy and didn't make a big fuss about it. We left the Shell station and drove back to Matt’s place.
     When we made it back to Matt’s, David seemed a little peeved at the way the deal had gone down. He probably felt that if the transaction had gone smoothly that Matt would have given him a few pills for himself. David was out of pills that day, but didn't seem too worried about it because he was still sippin’ on the bottle of gin. Still, he probably would have wanted some pills for later that night or the next day. He told Matt that if he came across anything while in Baltimore that he'd buy them for him and make it up to him for the first failed transaction. Matt told him he still had $300 for Percs and would pay that for a hundred pills. This annoyed me because I was getting the impression that our Baltimore trip might turn out to be just another one of David’s drug runs. I was hoping Amy would be able to come along so that David wouldn't spend the whole time looking for drugs.
     I called Amy and she let me know that she wasn't able to make it because Mark had never showed up for Savannah. Although that was typical of Mark, and on some level I had expected it, I was disappointed that he had once again failed his daughter and prevented Amy from enjoying her free time.
     By the time we started to head out for Baltimore it was probably around3:00 in the afternoon. We pulled out of Matt’s place on Steel Road in Kent Acres and didn't even make it out of the housing development before David tried to fulfill his promise to “make it up” to Matt. He saw a man that he recognized from a former stint in the VOP center named Trevor Moncrief crossing the street and he pulled over to talk to him. He asked Trevor if he knew anyone who could find some Percs for him, and Trevor responded that he did know someone who could.
     After a brief conversation at the driver side window of the truck, Trevor got in the truck to discuss the particulars of the deal. David explained that he was looking to buy 100 pills, 10 mg, for $300. Trevor said that he could do that and that he would only have to make a quick phone call. David wanted to tell Matt that he found someone to get him pills. We were right next to Trevor’s house so while Trevor went to make his call, David went to pick up the money from Matt.
     Everything was going smoothly with the deal and Trevor seemed like a nice enough guy, although it was pretty obvious that he was a “street” guy and possibly a crack addict. We returned to the same spot we'd met Trevor and then he went to get the pills. He came back with a sandwich bag full of pills. They were the exact dose David was looking for and that seemed to please him. The only issue was that it seemed like there were significantly less than 100 pills. David asked if he could count them first before giving Trevor the money and Trevor agreed. However, David counted only 57 pills and said he could give him no more than $200 for them. Trevor responded that since they were not his pills, he couldn't agree to sell them for that price. David gave the sandwich bag back to Trevor and told him to talk to the guy from whom he'd gotten them to see if they could come to an agreement.
     Trevor left the car to return the pills to whomever they belonged. He returned a short time later with no pills and no word on any kind of agreement. David seemed a little irritated about this, but wasn't willing to give up just yet. Trevor told him that the guy from whom he'd gotten the pills had left and would be back in a couple of hours. David suspected they were lying and was determined to find the supplier.
     At that point Trevor’s friend, who's name we found out later was Raymond Ward, appeared and they left together to go to the liquor store in Rodney Village. I told David, “Just give it up, man. Let’s go to Baltimore!” I suggested that trying to deal with crackheads to buy pills from someone you don't know is not likely to be a successful venture. I also related that he didn't even know if the guy who had them would still have them when he got back, or if he'd even be willing to lower the price – if he was even willing to deal with him directly. But David would not be dissuaded.
     He decided that he would follow Trevor and Raymond over to the liquor store in Rodney Village to see if he could find the guy who had the pills. We made it to the Rodney Village Shopping Center in the truck around the same time Trevor and Raymond made it on foot. David pulled up alongside them; he was still trying to talk to them about the pills. There was a third man with them that David assumed was the supplier, but he stayed pretty mum on the talk of pills. It was clear to me that if he was the guy, he did not appear to want to deal with David, but that wasn't so clear to David himself. Or perhaps David just didn't care. Either way, I'd had enough of the run-around game for one day.
     We made it back to Kent Acres before Trevor and Raymond did and it was clear David was waiting to speak to them. It was already around 5:00, maybe as late as 5:30. I was visibly irritated at the whole thing and had resigned myself to the knowledge that Baltimore was pretty much out of the question for the day. I told David that I was going back to Matt’s house and that he could come get me when he was through wasting his time with these men. I got out of the truck and walked down the street to Matt’s.
     Matt had invited some friends over and I happily joined the modest barbecue in the back yard. It was much more fun than chasing strangers for pills; I should have stayed at Matt’s in the first place! I filled Matt in on what was happening with David and he seemed not to be worried about it. I think he honestly didn't care if David got the pills. It had already left his mind. So I hung out, drank a few Yuenglings, and enjoyed myself as much as I could.
     David popped in periodically, staying for only a couple minutes at a time. It was clear that he was still preoccupied with trying to score these pills. It was becoming clearer to me that David’s Percocet use was becoming, or had already become, an addiction outside of his control. It made me uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure what to do; David was a good friend of mine, and I wanted to be there for him, unlike so many in his life who seemed to have abandoned him.
     Around 9:00 we all sat down to watch “Date Movie”; you know, one of those spoof movies that are usually pretty crude but funny. David was still out with God-knows-who. At one point he said he drove back to his house. We were less than half an hour into the movie when David came back to Matt’s house. Trevor and Raymond were outside.
     David spoke with Matt briefly and then asked me if I would ride with him, Trevor, and Raymond to Mifflin Meadows so he could buy some pills out there. At first I told him he didn't need me and that I was going to stay at Matt’s and watch “Date Movie.” David explained that he was uncomfortable going out to Mifflin Meadows by himself for fear of being jumped. He didn't specify who he thought was going to jump him, but it sounded like he was referring to Trevor and Raymond. I didn't think there was any danger of these two jumping him and agreed to go, partly to pacify David and partly to have his back, just in case.
     We went outside to the truck and Trevor and Raymond were already in the backseat. The truck was a Toyota Tundra and it was designed such that the front doors had to be opened before the back doors could open in the opposite direction. They call these “suicide doors.” Trevor was sitting on the driver’s side and Raymond was sitting on the passenger side. David and I got in the front seat of the truck. David still seemed pretty calm. It’s funny, but it seemed like he never really lost his cool that night.
     Matt came outside to talk to Trevor and Raymond. He told them that if they got the pills with no bullsh*t, that they could do business in the future, but that if anything sketchy happened, he wouldn't do any business with them at all. They assured him that their connect had the 10 mg Percs that David was looking for and everything would go smoothly. David and Matt seemed satisfied with this. I was hoping they were telling the truth so I could get back to Matt’s before the movie was over. I was tired of David’s desperate search for pills.
     Mifflin Meadows is an apartment complex about five to ten minutes up the highway from Kent Acres. The ride there was calm and everyone got along fine. David still had the fifth of Tanqueray and we were all taking small sips, although no one seemed intoxicated. David was perhaps a little tipsy, but unless he’s really drunk it’s hard to tell with him.
     When we arrived at Mifflin Meadows we let Raymond out of the truck so he could talk to his pill connection. After talking with him briefly, he motioned for David to pull the work truck up to where they were standing. David rolled down his window and talked to the unidentified man for a couple of minutes. The guy was selling the pills for $3 a piece, but they were only 5 mg, and he did not have 100 to sell.
     Raymond assured David that he knew a few more people that lived in the apartment complex and that he would quickly ask around. He told David to drive to the other side of the parking lot and wait for him a couple of minutes. Now David was becoming visibly agitated. While Raymond was out talking to his newest connection, David was expressing his irritation to Trevor. They weren't in a heated argument, but David was venting. Trevor told him to “be cool” and that they'd try to find him some pills.
     Raymond came back after a couple of minutes with no pills. It seemed as though he wanted David to stick around for a couple of minutes so he could look around some more, but David told him that he was leaving now, so if Raymond wanted a ride it was “now or never.” Once again, I opened my door so Raymond could climb back in. Raymond told David that he knew of someone in Woodside – I think it was either a friend or family member – that sold pills and told him to drive there. Woodside is only a couple minutes up the road, so David agreed to go.
     The first stop we made in Woodside turned up no pills. When Raymond came out of the house he told David that his connect there didn't have them but that he told him someone a couple of streets up did. The tedium of this day was giving me a headache. We drove up the road and stopped at yet another house. This time Raymond found what David was looking for! 10 mg Percocets for $3 a piece. However, he had only three.
     David, who hadn't stopped drinking the Tanqueray since we got in the truck at Matt's, told him, “Whatever, just get ‘em.” Nobody had exactly $9 on them, so David pocketed the pills and we drove to the nearby Uncle Willie’s gas station to get snacks and make change. I stayed in the truck while David, Trevor, and Raymond went inside. After David made change he stepped back outside to receive a phone call, and a couple of minutes later Trevor and Raymond came out and we were ready to leave. Finally!
     After everyone settled back in the truck we were supposed to go pay for the pills, but David turned right out of the parking lot. The house in Woodside was to the left. Raymond asked where David was going, and David answered that he needed to stop at a friend’s house. He asked the two if they minded and they seemed in no hurry and told him that it was fine. I was curious about what was going on, but I was used to David making spontaneous stops.
     We started driving toward Felton and after about ten minutes we pulled into a driveway from a back road. I had never seen this house before and wasn't sure where we were. David got out of the truck and told us all to wait for him. A few seconds later I saw a Latino man that I recognized as Albert’s brother standing in the driveway. Albert was a friend of mine from middle school, but I had only seen his brother twice before and had only spoken to him once.
I knew very little of Albert’s brother. I remembered hearing that he had been a Navy SEAL. I knew that he bought weed from Matt because that was one of the two times I'd seen him before. I also knew that he had been in trouble with the law in Delaware because the other time I'd seen him, he was on his way to court. David had told me that he'd grown up in Puerto Rico and was a loose cannon. He had also related stories that Albert’s brother had told him about how he'd killed before while he was in the Navy. So when I realized where we were I had an inkling that this could turn into a bad situation. I knew David was irritated and the fact that he was talking privately to such a dangerous man concerned me.
     I felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. I didn't want to be there, but I didn't know how I could leave inconspicuously or what I could do to change the direction in which the evening seemed headed. If my instincts were correct, I couldn't safely get out of the truck and run without inciting suspicion from David and Albert’s brother. I did the only thing I could do: hope that I was being irrational and pray for the best.
     After a couple of minutes, Albert’s brother and David joined me in the truck on either side. I moved over to the middle of the front seat and Albert’s brother got in the passenger seat, while David settled back behind the wheel. At first everyone was calm and we began heading back in the direction of Kent Acres. Albert’s brother and David were having casual conversation. David called him “Jesus” (Hay-Soos). I was beginning to think that my fears had been irrational and that everything was cool. I silently assured myself that in a couple of minutes we'd be back at Matt’s, hanging out and watching TV, and this whole excursion would be over. We still had to stop in Woodside to pay Raymond’s connect, but it would be smooth sailing from there.
     After a couple of minutes of back-road driving, Jesus asked David if he could see the shotgun. The gun was sitting next to David, between him and door and underneath a towel. He handed the gun to Jesus, who looked at it, commented that it was a "nice gun" and then settled it into his lap. At that point David whispered to me, “He’s gonna do these guys.” I could feel my adrenaline start to rush as fear flooded through me and my head began to spin, but then nothing happened for a couple of minutes. Right as I started to calm down, Jesus whispered to David, “Can I do it in the truck?”   “Yeah,” David responded.
     When Trevor and Raymond saw that Jesus had the gun and that he and David were whispering, they demanded to be let out of the truck. They were panicky and Raymond said, “Let me out right here. I know someone who lives right here.” Jesus turned around in his seat and trained the gun on them. He was kneeling on the front seat with his arms propped against the back of the seat, and he began to yell at them in his thick Spanish accent.
     Jesus was yelling things like “Where’s the money?” and asking them why they “robbed his boy.” He asked them if they thought they would get away with it. He mentioned the pills and asked why they had been “jerking his boy around.” David was supplying comments on Jesus’ accusations while Jesus was yelling. My mind was reeling in shock and I couldn't believe that what was unfolding all around me was really real. I began to pray to myself and ask God to spare these men’s lives. I silently asked Him, “Don't let him shoot them.”
     At one point one of the men in the back addressed me, saying, “Tell him we didn't do nothin’, Justin.” I'm not sure which of the men said it and I couldn't even respond to the plea; it was as if it didn't even register in my confused and panicked consciousness, and I only remembered it in retrospect.
“Are they praying yet?” David asked. They responded that they had been and begged for Jesus not to shoot them. “It ain’t gonna work,” David replied, to which Jesus laughed and said,
“Pull over. I wanna see ‘em run.”
     David started to slow down and pull the truck over and I began to hope that they would be able to escape. Just as the truck began to slow, another car turned onto the road we were on and David pulled back onto the road once again. Jesus was still shouting wild accusations and Trevor asked him to pull the gun away from his face. He reached for the barrel of the weapon to move it away and Jesus struck him with it lightly on the side of his head. We drove on for maybe another five minutes with Jesus still yelling and the men still begging, when Jesus, without warning, shot Raymond, then immediately shot Trevor.
     The first shotgun blast was so loud that I could hardly hear the second shot go off. The shock of the situation set in even heavier and I looked into the backseat to make sure it was real. I thought I must be dreaming, but the horrific scene behind me confirmed my worst fear. David, holding his ear with his right hand and driving with the left, turned to Jesus and said, “I love you.” I was numb. In a daze. Sickened and disoriented, I couldn't feel or react at all. I stopped praying and just sat there absolutely bewildered.
     When the shots went off, we were driving on Route 10 west, and were less than a minute from the Mobile gas station in Sandtown, heading in the direction of Maryland. Jesus began to panic. He repeatedly demanded to be let out of the truck. David was trying to calm him down as he turned around to head back to the Willow Grove area. He told Jesus that we were only five minutes from his mom’s house, and we would drop him off there.
     Jesus was noticeably jumpy and when he heard breathing from the backseat, he responded by asking, “Which one of you is still alive?” David added his own callous two cents' worth with comments like, “Shut up” and “Why aren't you dead?” This was very traumatic to hear, but it somehow also had the effect of bringing me back to reality.
     A few minutes later we stopped a few hundred feet short of Jesus’ mom’s house and let him out. As Jesus climbed out of the truck, he advised David to get rid of the truck. He told David to burn it and added that David should not say anything about what had happened because, he said, “I know where your family lives.” This statement was directed at David because Jesus knew nothing about me. But the message was clear. Jesus was a dangerous man, someone not to be trifled with.
     Immediately after dropping Jesus off, David called Joey. His real name is Raymond Glaeser, but we all call him Joey. David knew him because his sister, Randy, was dating him. He told Joey that he would be coming over and that he had “two I've got to get rid of.” Like bringing two corpses to someone’s house was normal; like he'd done it before. The conversation was brief. David told me that Joey had helped him out in a situation like this before, and my gut wrenched with even more fear. I was getting the idea that this type of thing was nothing new to David, and that David was also much more dangerous than I could have imagined.
     David made several more comments on the way to Joey’s house; when he got off the phone with Joey, he made a couple more obscene comments to Trevor Moncrief, who was still breathing, and then he spoke to me. He told me that if anything were to happen that he would be the one taking the blame, and under no circumstances should I mention Jesus. His instructions were, “If the police come to you, tell them what happened, but tell them I did it. Jesus wasn't even here.” He told me that at first, Jesus asked if he wanted David to have me killed, too, but David told him that I was OK. He said that this made Jesus nervous and he wasn't going to do it because I was there. He also said that Jesus was a fake name that he'd asked to be called, and that I shouldn't know his real name. He would continue to reveal more throughout the night, but he told me enough already for me to know that this was planned and premeditated. I realized that the situation I was in was a very serious one and that I must play my cards right to survive.
     We arrived in Joey’s driveway about 15 minutes after dropping Jesus off. David’s sister, Randy, lived with Joey. David got out of the truck with the gun and placed it behind Joey’s house. He told me that he was going to go inside, and that I should stay outside for a minute. He went in and less than five minutes later came back outside with Joey and Randy. Randy and Joey looked in the truck; Randy gasped and began to cry. After that we all went inside. The prosecutor would later paint the picture that while I was by myself outside Joey’s house, I could have run or called the cops. I suppose that this was possible and even seems like the reasonable route to someone who wasn't in the middle of this terrible situation. Unfortunately, the thought to run had never occurred to me. My survival instincts told me that cooperation was the only way to survive the night. Even if I had run, Albert or David could tell Jesus how to find me. I had to surrender myself to whatever David would tell me to do in order to live.
     We were inside Joey’s house for about two hours. We had arrived there at roughly midnight. Several conversations were held while at the house. These include conversations between Joey and David; Joey, David, and Randy; David and Randy; me and Randy; and also me and Joey. Because of the shock and fear I was experiencing, I don't recall all of the conversations in their entirety or the order in which they took place. Also, I was not always within earshot of conversations that I was not involved in. But I do remember some important things.
     When we first entered the house, David went over to Joey’s minibar and grabbed a bottle of Lord Calvert. He had already finished the bottle of Tanqueray and was pretty drunk. Over the course of the next two hours, he would finish the bottle of Lord Calvert and a good portion of a bottle of Bacardi Limón. Knowing David’s violent past when drunk, this only added to my fear.
David spent the first 15 minutes or so talking to Joey in the kitchen or outside. Then he began talking to Randy. At one point while David and Joey were talking, I was in the computer room with Randy. I expressed my fear to her and told her that I wanted to just leave but was scared that David would possibly kill me or retaliate in some other way. I wouldn't tell her about Jesus because David’s earlier instruction to leave him out of it. She confirmed my fear and told me to cooperate with David because “David’s crazy right now, and he'll kill you, too!” She also mentioned that she'd told Joey the same thing.
     Later, David and I were in the living room and the TV was on. I can't even remember what was on. Joey was in and out of the room. When David and I were alone, he told me that he'd told Jesus to let him kill one of them and he was disappointed when he'd shot them both. He also told me that his plan was to bury the bodies out in Goldsboro, Maryland, where Joey’s mom had a lot of wooded land.
     During our discussion, David boasted about how the victims had gotten what they deserved for wasting his time. He told me that he had lied to Jesus in order to convince him to do the killing. He said he'd told Jesus that they had stolen $600 from him, and had jumped him once when they were in the VOP facility. This explained why Jesus had been asking them where the money was.
     As much as I was trying to act calm and nonchalant about the situation, David could see that it had bothered me. At one point during our conversation he asked if I was feeling badly. I responded by telling him that I wasn't feeling bad, and that I agreed with him that they'd deserved it. This was as far from the truth as I could get, but I knew it was the answer that David wanted to hear. He responded, “Good, because if anyone has a problem with any of this I have a loaded shotgun outside for you, too.” When David said this, Joey was in the room and heard it, too. I wasn't aware of that until over a year and a half later when I read an interview that Joey had had a month and a half after the incident.
     After about two hours, David decided that it was time to leave to bury the bodies of the victims. He went outside to check if Trevor was still breathing. When he came back inside, he was frustrated and announced that he was still breathing. He said that he didn't want him to be alive when he drove to Goldsboro and began to contemplate what he would do. He said that he could shoot him, but he was concerned that there were neighbors around who would hear or see it. Finally, he asked me for my butterfly knife. He knew I had it because I've always carried one.
After I gave David my knife, Joey, David, and I went outside. David asked me to bring him the gun from behind Joey’s house. I brought him the gun and he put it in the truck. After David put the gun in the truck, he opened the rear driver’s side door where Trevor was sitting. He had the knife in his hand and reached into the truck. I was standing at the far end of the truck’s bed and could not see inside the truck or David because my vision was blocked by the door.
     When I saw David reach in with the knife, I went over to Joey’s truck at the front of the driveway and got in with Joey. I told Joey I didn't want to ride in David’s truck or have anything to do with that truck. I couldn't read Joey very well. He wasn't expressing any kind of emotion. I remember asking him if David had done something like this before and his response seemed evasive. He wouldn't say if he had or hadn't or if he even knew. We didn't talk much. We both sat in the truck while David was out at his truck. The rear ends of the trucks were facing each other on opposite ends and sides of the driveway. This made it so I could see David’s truck from the passenger’s side-view mirror.
     After several minutes David approached Joey’s truck. He came to the passenger side and said that he had slit Trevor’s throat, but he was still breathing. He seemed frantic and I told him to please just hurry up. He went back to his truck and I saw him reach in again. A few more minutes passed and he returned to my window once again. This time he was more detailed.
     “This guy just won't die! He’s like f***in’ Superman! I stabbed him and slit his throat a couple times and he’s still breathing. He keeps saying, ‘David, don't do it.’” This confused and scared me. I knew that the man could not speak. I also couldn't understand why David was telling me about it. He went on saying these things for a couple minutes. When he asked what he should do, I finally said something. I was agitated and it probably showed in my voice.
     “Do what you have to do, David. I don't want to be here and you want to get it over with. Just hurry up and finish him so we can leave.” These words are not exact, but are very close as far as I can remember. Later, the prosecutors would try to make this statement seem as if I was ordering David to kill Trevor Moncrief. Given my state of mind and also David’s, and the position I was in, it should be clear that any comment I made was only for my own safety and survival.
     When David left to return to the other truck, Joey got out of his truck and walked to David’s. I thought that he had grabbed a screwdriver from a compartment in his truck, but it was a box truck, so I couldn't see if he did or not. I did see Joey go over to David’s truck and saw both Joey and David reaching in at the same time. I don't know what Joey was doing. However, if Joey was feeling anything at all like I was, anything he did or said to David was only out of safety for his own life.
     Joey returned to the truck and got back in the driver’s seat. About a minute later David returned. He said that he had stabbed Trevor in the lung and that he had stopped breathing. This was distressing and only added to the horror of the whole evening. David then asked me to ride with him to Goldsboro. I told him that I did not want to, that I wanted to ride in Joey’s truck instead. David told me that he did not want to ride alone in the truck with two bodies in the back, and again, very sternly this time, asked me to ride with him. I was very reluctant to do so, but saw no point in arguing with David and didn't feel that it was prudent to do so. Once again, I surrendered and got out of Joey’s truck into David’s. I couldn't stomach looking into the back seat and during the ride tried to occupy my mind with something else.
     The drive from Joey’s house to his mom’s house in Goldsboro is probably only a 25- or 30-minute ride. We drove out there and the whole time David was drinking the bottle of Bacardi Limón. He still seemed unconcerned about what had happened and continued to boast that the two men got what they had coming. He again expressed his frustration that he did not get to shoot one of the victims. He made some phone calls while we were riding, too. I didn't say much. I only spoke when David said something to me, in order to pacify him. I thought the only reason he wanted me to ride with him was to keep an eye on me. I feared that once we had dug the hole, he would kill me and bury me along with Trevor and Raymond.
     When we got out to Joey’s mom’s property in Goldsboro, Joey parked his truck, grabbed a couple of shovels, and got into David’s truck in the passenger side. There was a dirt trail that led deep into the woods and Joey navigated while David drove deep into the woods. After five or ten minutes of slow, curvy driving, David picked a spot to dig the hole. He parked the truck with its lights shining on the area where we were going to dig. He put on an album by DMX called Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood, an album that focused mostly on violence and murder. He turned it up so that he could hear and sing along while we dug.
     All three of us began to dig the hole. The dirt was soft and we hit surprisingly few roots. We dug with haste and in a short time the hole was too deep for all three of us to continue digging. Joey continued to dig mostly by himself, until the hole was considerably deep. While Joey dug, David would walk back and forth between the hole and the truck, occasionally starting the engine so that the battery wouldn't die. David would often rap crude lyrics directed at the victims’ dead bodies in sync with the DMX album. I mostly stayed near the truck and smoked cigarettes. Occasionally I'd walk to where Joey was digging to see how much progress he'd made or to help with the digging.
     When the hole was deep enough to satisfy David, he tried to pull Raymond from the backseat of the truck. Discovering that rigor mortis had set in, David asked me to assist him in carrying the body to the hole. I reluctantly complied. This distressed me even more, and I told David I could not help him with the other body. Trevor had not been dead as long as Raymond, and his body had not yet reached rigor mortis. David, I believe, dragged this body by himself to the hole.
     After both of the bodies had been put in the hole, all three of us began covering it back up. After the hole was full, Joey scattered the loose dirt and covered the area with twigs and other shrubbery. When David was satisfied that it looked as if the area was undisturbed, we all got back into the truck and made our way out of the woods back to Joey’s mom’s house.
     The sun was rising, and Joey had to be to work soon. Joey headed back to his house, and David decided that we would follow him. Joey got there a couple of minutes before we did. When we went inside, I saw that Joey had already gathered bloody items from the driveway and the clothes he had been wearing in a pile on the floor by the kitchen. Joey and David talked briefly and I got something to drink. Joey had to shower and leave to work, and David and I didn't stay long.
     After we left Joey’s house, David said that he was going to Matt’s. He told me that he was going to ask Matt to give me a ride home so he could take the truck back to Brad’s. He was sure that Brad would take care of the truck. I'm not sure if David had called Matt to tell him we were stopping by or to tell him what had happened. But when we got to Matt’s house it was roughly 6:00 am and he had been in bed.
     We were sitting in Matt’s living room when David told him that he'd killed the two men from the night before. Matt first looked shocked but then immediately acted like he was unfazed and had no problem with what had happened. David gave Matt his gun back and asked if he'd drive me home. Matt agreed. Then David asked Matt if he had something I could wear so that he could burn the clothes I had on. Matt got me some sweat pants and a T-shirt. David told Matt not to worry, that the cops would never know it was his gun. He said that he was going to have Brad cover for him. He also said that if he were to get caught that he'd kill himself before he gave the cops any answers.
     We didn't stay at Matt’s house long. David left for Brad’s and Matt and I left a couple of minutes later. Matt could tell that I was in shock and didn't ask many questions or talk much on the way to my apartment. When we got to my place, I went inside and put on some of my own clothes. I brought him out his clothes, thanked him for the ride, and told him I'd call him later after I got some sleep. I went inside and lay down. I was hoping that I'd wake up and it would all be a dream. After all, something that bizarre couldn't have been real.
     I wasn't asleep very long before I got a call from David. He told me that Brad was going to cover for him and re-upholster the truck. I don't think I said anything other than “OK” and “bye.” I went right back to sleep and was woken up several hours later by a phone call from Albert. When I picked up the phone Albert sounded kind of confused. He told me that David’s sister had called him and told him that the police had David and they were looking for me. Randy asked Albert to call me because she didn't have my phone number.
     Albert was wondering what was going on. I told him I couldn't talk about it now, but I'd tell him when I could. I told him that it was very serious though. I got Randy’s phone number and called her.
     When I called Randy she told me the same thing that Albert had told me. She was very upset and so was I. At the same time, I was relieved that David had been apprehended. Since I knew that there could be no repercussions from David, I told Randy that he was not the shooter. I like Randy and she seemed more upset by her brother’s actions rather than by his subsequent arrest. When she asked me who had shot the men I told her that I did not know his name for certain, but that I couldn't tell her even if I did. I told her that David had set up the murder and that he was responsible. I assumed that Randy would go to the police with this information, but I wasn't sure.
     After hanging up with Randy I was still in shock and made myself a ghost around the apartment for several hours. My roommate, Amy, later told me that I didn't speak for what seemed to her like six hours. When I was finally able to talk I called Matt’s cell phone. The tragedy was weighing heavily upon me and I sought whomever I thought was safe to talk to. I knew I could talk to Matt about it and together we could figure out what the next step would be.
Matt picked up and I told him that I needed to get out of the house and talk about what had happened. He told me that he and his wife had been arguing and that he was going to head up to the Wilmington area for a while. He told me he had to stop by his brother’s house, his mom’s house, and another friend’s house. I asked him if I could come with him and if we could stop by a laundromat while we were there. He told me he'd pick me up and that I could do my laundry at his mom’s place.
     Not long after that Matt came to pick me up. He explained that his brother had the same model Mossberg 500 and that he was going to swap his with his brother’s. He said we'd stop at his mom’s to put in a load of laundry and then proceed to his friend’s house, where we could hang out for a while. After we began driving, I started talking about what had happened the night before. I explained to Matt that I never knew any of that was going to happen. I told him that there was another person who'd shot the two men, and I told him how David had stabbed Trevor. I told him pretty much every major detail of the night.
     He was surprised to hear that David hadn't shot the two men. He asked if he knew the person who had done it. I told him that he did. I told him that the guy had been a Navy SEAL, and then Matt told me he didn't want to hear anymore. I still wasn't sure if Jesus was his real name so I didn't use it. I didn't bother asking Matt either because he seemed disturbed at this revelation. After I revealed that someone else had done the shooting, I told him how adamant David was on taking the fall. I related David’s instructions not to mention the shooter to the police as well.
     As I told Matt these things, he started to understand what had happened. When I asked him what he thought we should do, he agreed that it would not be safe to mention Jesus to the police. Matt seemed fearful of any repercussions to him or his pregnant wife. We talked about it a little more and agreed that we should go to the police the next morning and give our statements. Thus far we had not been contacted by the police and we both agreed it would be prudent to go to them first.
     Our first stop was Matt’s brother’s place. His brother had already been filled in on what had happened and subsequently told his friends that were at his house. I think they were his bandmates. We stayed at his house for a little while and I talked some about what had happened. It felt good to get off my chest a lot of what I'd seen the night before. I was still in shock but I was beginning to accept what had happened as reality.
     When we left Matt’s brother’s house we drove over to his mom’s. We weren't there long. We went down to the basement and I threw in a load of my laundry, and that was pretty much it. I can't remember if Matt even talked to anyone there. I remember calling Brad while I was there to ask him about that morning. He told me that he'd lent David his car to drive home and wasn't sure how the police caught him. Then he asked me if I could drive it out to him someday soon and he would pay me what he owed for the hours I'd worked.
     When we left Matt’s mom’s we drove to someone else’s house. I don't remember who the people were. It was starting to get dark when we got there. I think they were getting ready to start a poker game. I thought maybe that would take my mind off everything. But right after we got there my cell phone rang and it was David!
     I was a bit confused and I showed Matt the screen that read “David H. calling.” I picked it up and sure enough it was David. He explained that he was at Troop 3 in Camden and they were about to charge him and take him to Smyrna. He said that he had already admitted to the police that he'd done everything and that they wanted me to come in to make a statement. He said I wasn't in any trouble and then asked me to write him. I began to explain that I was up in Wilmington somewhere with Matt doing my laundry and that we'd come down as soon as it was dry. He told me that the police wanted to talk to Matt as well. Then we hung up.
     A few minutes later I got a call from Amy saying that a SWAT team and local and state police were crawling through our apartment looking for me. She asked me what was going on and I told her I'd explain everything as soon as I could. She sounded worried, but also pretty mad, which was understandable.
     I went back inside Matt’s friend’s house. I was only inside for a couple minutes when I received a call from Detective William Porter. He told me that, again, I was not in trouble, but he could not wait for me to finish my laundry. He said that Matt and I needed to come to Troop 3 immediately. Then he asked to speak with Matt. He and Matt spoke for a few minutes and Matt gave me my phone back. He said that we had to go back to his mom’s and grab my clothes, and then go back to his brother’s and get his gun.
     My clothes were finished washing but had not dried yet. I had to put them all back in the laundry bag with the rest of my dirty clothes. Then we were on our way to Matt’s brother’s again. We didn't waste a lot of time and were only there a couple of minutes before we were on our way back to the Dover/Camden area. I don't recall any conversations we had on our drive or if we talked at all. I know I was nervous, not knowing what to expect, and I'm sure Matt felt the same way. I talked to Amy and she told me not to come home that night. She wasn't sure if I could stay there anymore. I was worried that I might be arrested when I got to the police station. After all, they had swarmed my apartment looking for me! But I had nothing to hide and running wasn't an option.
     Matt and I arrived at Troop 3 in Camden around midnight. We both smoked a cigarette and went in together. We met up with the detectives once we were inside and they asked if Matt brought his gun. He replied that he did and that it was in his car. At that point one of the detectives got a warrant to search Matt’s car for the purpose of retrieving one Mossberg 500 shotgun. He brought the shotgun into the station and then brought Matt back into one of the interview rooms, leaving me in the lobby.
     Matt was back there for quite some time talking with the detectives. His interview, however, started at 1:08 AMand ended at 1:34 AM the morning of June 7th. They had apparently spoken off-tape for quite some time, because my interview didn't start until 2:10 AM. I, on the other hand, didn't speak with the detectives off-tape for very long before or after my statement.
Matt waited for me to finish my interview, which ended at 2:34 AM. I told the police all that had happened, starting the morning of June 5th up until when Matt had dropped me off at my apartment on the morning of June 6th. I was very detailed and only left out that Jesus had shot them. I didn't lie other than to say David had shot the men and a few small details to support that story. Randy had not yet gone to the police with the information that David had not shot the men.
     The detectives seemed sympathetic to the position I'd been in, and they let me leave. They assured me that I was not under arrest and that they had to review the case with the Attorney General’s Office, but they were pretty sure I would not be arrested. They did tell me that they would likely contact me again to talk about the case. I left them my cell phone number and was given their card.
     It was a relief finally to walk out of the police station that night a free man, but I had made a decision, by not telling them about Jesus, that would come back to haunt me. I did what I thought I had to do to protect myself, my family, and even David from Jesus. I was furious with David for the selfishness, negligence, and cowardice he displayed by putting me in the situation, but still did not want to think what Jesus would have done to him had he been caught.
     When I left the police station I called one of my best friends, Ricky Bedwell, to ask if I could stay at his place that night. Ricky lived with another one of our best friends, Craig Maffia, at Craig’s parents’ house. Craig and his dad, also named Craig, were in Pennsylvania on a job and Ricky was there alone with Craig’s mom, Perrie. Perrie agreed to let me stay as long as I needed and Matt dropped me off there.
     Over the next few days I was in a state of emotional distress. I had abrupt mood swings. Oftentimes I was OK, but anything that caused me to think about what had happened would throw me into a depressed or angry state of mind. I spent most of my time with my friends or my pastor. My mom took emergency leave from her job as a nurse in the Air Force. She flew out from Ohio to make sure I was OK. I spoke to my dad a lot and he agreed to let my stay with him for up to two weeks while I found a permanent residence.
     After the shock of it all began subsiding I started to live my regular life again. I took a job at the temp agency again for a couple of weeks. I talked to Randy once and she told me she'd figured out who'd done the killing. She told me that she had told the police but they brushed it off. She asked me to turn Jesus in but also said she understood why I couldn't. Albert also learned that it had been his brother. He made it clear that under no circumstances could I say anything to the authorities about what had happened. I assured him I wouldn't. I tried to stuff it down and forget about it. I began to live my life.
     I moved in with another one of my best friends, Ted Sayres. I had gotten my license back and was working for my dad, running his tire shop with him full time. A few weeks had passed when I received a call from Albert saying that his brother, Jesus, wanted to talk to me about what had happened. I was nervous and scared but agreed, deciding that if I turned him down he would be suspicious and come after me.
     A couple of weeks after I agreed to meet with Jesus, he and Albert met me at my house in Star Hill. I called Ted and told him that they were coming and would call him as soon as everything was done. I told him that if I didn't call him back in 45 minutes that he should call the police. Jesus, it seemed, just wanted to explain why he'd done what he'd done and make sure I wasn't going to go to the police. He told me that David had told him that the men had tried to molest David’s daughter or did molest her. He said that if David hadn't told him that he wouldn't have done it. He also told me that if I was going to “f***” him, to let him know. I assured him that I would not tell the police about him and he repeated his demand, “If you're going to f*** me, let me know.”
     During our discussion, Ted’s mom came home. That was a relief. She knew Albert already and was close with him. He introduced Jesus to her as well. They left shortly after the introductions, and I called Ted to let him know everything was cool. I was happy to still be alive!
     Several months passed and a lot of things changed. Ted and I got our own house. A three-bedroom right next to the mall. I was running the shop almost by myself. Dad would come in maybe ten hours a week. A couple of weeks after getting our house, we found a roommate named Kenny Ellis. Things were going very smoothly. I had put the murder incident behind me and loved my life again.
     In December I began dating Dannette Coppock, a girl I'd known and liked for four years. In January, Ted moved out because he'd bought a new truck and couldn't afford both car payments and rent. Dannette moved in with me. Early in January I had to appear at the Kent County Court House for a burglary charge of Ricky’s. I had been present for that incident, and I was at the courthouse to have all the charges against me dropped.
     While I was at the courthouse, David’s public defenders requested to speak with me and I agreed. They asked me about what had happened and I told them. When we were finished talking they informed me that David had named a third party, one whom he claimed shot the two men. They asked me if I knew a Jesus Aviles. I told them that I did not know anyone by that name and the interview was over.
     It disturbed me that David had mentioned Jesus. It made me feel very vulnerable not only to Jesus, but also to the police. I called Albert to tell him that David had spoken to his lawyers about his brother and that if the cops came after him it wasn't my fault. He seemed calm and told me not to change my story. He said he wasn't worried about it.
     I went to work and I told my dad (who'd opened the shop that day because of my court appearance) that David wasn't the one who shot the men. I told him what had happened and told him why I hadn't told the police. He was sympathetic, but he said that I probably shouldn't have covered for Jesus. Months earlier I had told Kenny Riley, a guy from my church, what had happened, and he couldn't offer any advice. He only told me that he didn't know what he would do in my situation.
     I thought about it for several days. I talked with Ted, Kenny, and even Dannette about it. Ted told me he didn't know what he'd do. Kenny said I should tell the police about Jesus because they probably already knew. And Dannette said that she knew I'd do the right thing. I'd wanted to tell the police about Jesus from the day it happened. I knew I would have to make a decision one day before David went to trial.
     Then, on the night of January 15th, Dannette and I went to see the movie, “Alpha Dog.” The movie was good; not exceptional, but entertaining. The thing that struck me the most about the movie was a scenario similar to mine. A boy was shot, killed, and buried. One of the characters in the movie was there and didn't want to be a part of it. It struck me in that scene how important human life is. That, mixed with Dannette’s words of “I know you'll do the right thing,” helped me to make the decision that I would go to the police the next day and tell them what really happened.
     It was undoubtedly the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I knew that there could be unforeseen consequences and I knew that they could change my life. I knew there were risks and other lives on the line, like Dannette’s and my family’s. But I knew that it was the right thing to do, the only decision I had, and this time I was going to do the right thing despite how hard it would be.
     On January 16th, 2007, I opened up my shop just like any other day. I told my dad that I planned on going to the police station that afternoon and that I needed to leave early. At about 2:00 he came in to relieve me. I had to run a few errands after I left the shop, and then I drove to Troop 3. I told the person at the desk that I needed to speak to the detective in charge of the case. A couple of minutes later a detective came to the lobby to ask why I needed to speak to the detective. I briefly explained the situation.
     A short while later Detective William Porter arrived and took me back into an interview room. I explained in a nutshell that there was a third person involved in the homicide and that I needed to talk with him about it. He put me on tape and for the second time I gave the police an account of what had happened. Only this time I told them about Jesus. It had been almost seven and a half months; some of what happened was unclear, and I was nervous. Still, I tried very hard to give him the best account based on how I remembered it. Some details may have been more accurate, while others were far off. For instance, I mistakenly told Detective Porter that when David returned to Joey’s truck window complaining that the man would not die, I replied, “David, he’s still breathing, and you just want to get it done, I don't want to be here anymore. Stab him in the lung.” It had been so long since the incident, and I had not rehearsed what I would say to Detective Porter. In fact, I had never instructed David to stab him in the lung. It was probably a mixture of nervousness combined with hearing David say that he had stabbed him in the lung that caused my confused statement
     The rest of the interview, however, went well. Detective Porter was obviously skeptical and wondered if I was making this up to save David. I told him I was not and that I believed that David was responsible. He asked if I would take a lie detector test and I said I would, but he did not give me one. When the tape was off he asked me if I believed in God. I told him I did and he responded that if I was lying I'd go to hell. I assured him I wasn't. By the time I left he seemed convinced this was the truth. I felt much better and hoped that they would apprehend Jesus quickly.
     To my chagrin, the state was slow to arrest Jesus. Over the next two months they continued to investigate the new information. Detective Porter contacted me by phone on four or five occasions and stopped by my shop two or three times. He would ask questions about the case. Get phone numbers. He once asked me to find out Albert’s address for him.
     Dannette and I became engaged on Valentine’s Day, and I continued to live my life. I was confident that all this was over but was unsettled that they hadn't picked up Jesus. At one point I told Matt that the police were looking for Jesus. I didn't want him to be surprised if the police showed up to ask him questions. I found out that Matt had been working with Jesus at that point. He even came to Matt’s to hang out after the whole incident. That made me nervous and I thought Matt might tell Jesus that he knew the police and I had been in contact.
     A couple of weeks later Ricky informed me that Albert had called him to ask where I lived. Albert told Ricky that I had possibly given up information about Jesus. He wanted my address in case he had to “run up in his house.” When Ricky told me this I asked him to call Albert and tell him he had bad information and that I hadn't said anything.
     I called Detective Porter to tell him that Jesus possibly knew he was being investigated and that he had been looking for me. This prompted him to have a meeting set up with the two prosecutors on this case, Deputy Attorney Generals R. David Favata and Marie Graham. This meeting was going to happen eventually, but probably happened sooner than it would have had I not called Detective Porter.
     I was unsure of what to expect from the meeting and it had not occurred to me that these were the prosecutors in the case. I was not at all familiar with the workings of the Superior Court. I went into this meeting thinking that I was going to offer information and answer questions necessary for the state to arrest Jesus. In fact, this was the case, but they also were having this meeting to help them decide if they were going to have me arrested as well.
     That was an unexpected development. I had become friendly with Detective Porter and he assured me that it was not his wish to arrest me. He said the decision was up to the Attorney General’s office, but that he saw no reason to have me arrested and would recommend against it.
The day of the meeting was to be March 15th. It was a weekday and I had to leave work early. My shop is only two blocks from the office and I went there in my work clothes. I showed up still greasy and rough-looking with my tattoos showing. Still, the meeting started out pleasantly enough. They asked me to give an account once again of what had occurred on June 5th and 6th of 2006. After Detective Porter read me my rights, I began to do that. It wasn't long before I was being interrupted and asked questions about what had happened.
     The mood began to change and it went from questions to accusations. Mr. Favata tried to make it appear that I had issued David an instruction to kill someone while Ms. Graham told me to admit that I knew David was going to have these men killed—two things very far from the truth. They asked why I didn't hand in Jesus earlier, but they didn't seem to listen when I answered. The conversation became an attack and an interrogation. I was caught off-guard and my thoughts became disorganized, and I began to feel as though I could not defend myself against their surprising tirade. Mr. Favata called me an unindicted co-conspirator at one point after our conversation and said that my testimony wouldn't be credible because of that. That was hard to hear because it was so far from the truth.
     After a while, they asked me to call Albert on my cell phone to see if I could have him provide some useful information that could prove to them that Jesus was the killer. Reluctantly, I cooperated. I knew that when I handed in Jesus that it would be hard, but wasn't prepared to deal with this. It was a very humbling experience.
     After a couple of hours I walked out of the Attorney General’s office a free man. I was a bit rattled and unnerved, but I was free. I thought that now I was in the clear. Despite the grueling interview with a pair that seemed to be working as devil’s advocates, I thought I was done. I must have passed their test and convinced them that I had no part in this, thank God.
The next day Albert called me to tell me that they had arrested Jesus. He had just returned from the police station. I had been friends with Albert for several years. I felt badly for him because I knew it was hard for him. I also didn't want him to think that I had anything to do with his arrest. I called my dad to ask if I could leave the shop to go talk to Albert. It was raining that day anyway, so he didn't mind too much.
     I drove out to Albert’s house in Willow Grove. He told me that Jesus had admitted to shooting one of the men when the gun misfired. He told me that if the police talked to me, I should give the same story. He obviously wasn't considering the position I'd been put in. I sat with him for a couple minutes and made sure he was OK before I left to go home.
     Dannette had the day off, so she was home when I arrived. I told her that it was finally over. That they had picked up Jesus. I figured that if they wanted me then they would have gotten me that day, too. Instead, when I called Detective Porter to ask if it was true, if they'd arrested him, he told me they had. No worries. Boy, was I relieved.
     Five days later it was March 21st. I'd brought Dannette into work with me that morning. She usually didn't start work until 11 AM, and I opened at 9 AM. She would come in with me and we'd order breakfast. Then she'd catch the bus to work. Around 9:45, Dannette and I were sitting in my office, talking, when Detective Porter walked into my office accompanied by five or six Dover PD officers. He patted me down and then let me call my dad and shut down the shop. He let me give Dannette a hug and kiss then he cuffed me and took me to Troop 3.
     I was upset, but not too worried. I thought they'd charge me with some kind of conspiracy and I'd be out on bail. After getting fingerprinted and having my picture taken, I asked what the charges were. Detective Porter responded, “Murder 1st Degree.” He told me it was not his decision, that the DAG ordered my arrest along with the arrests of Joey and Matt. I couldn't believe my ears. Porter told me again that he was on my side and that he would back me up.
He said he was taking me to S.C.I. in Georgetown. I had no bail; he informed me that I would get one at my preliminary hearing. He took me to prison in his unmarked Dodge Stratus. I was cuffed in front and put in the front seat with the door unlocked. He gave me my cell phone and cigarettes and told me to call whomever I needed to call. About 45 minutes later I was sitting in the booking and receiving section of S.C.I. Inmate number 414890.
     My preliminary hearing was scheduled for March 30th, the next Friday. I was in shock that I'd been arrested, but remained confident that at my court hearing in nine days this misunderstanding would be cleared up. I talked to my dad and the rest of my family. We didn't seek any legal representation initially as we were waiting for the outcome of the preliminary hearing.
     On the morning of the 30th I was woken up around 4:30. I ate breakfast and then walked down to the booking and receiving section of the prison. There I was cuffed and shackled. A chain was tied around my waist and then linked to the handcuffs. A black box covered the chain of the handcuffs and was clamped overtop of it and locked with a small master lock.
     I was put in a van with several other inmates and we were taken to the Kent County Courthouse. We arrived earlier than our 9 o'clock scheduled court dates and were all put in a small cage-like cell in the basement of the courthouse. After a couple of hours, an attractive female lawyer came to speak with me. Her name was Anne Hartnett Reigle and she was on contract with the State of Delaware, working with the private firm of Parkowski, Guerke and Swayze.
     We spoke briefly about my circumstances before she recommended that I waive my preliminary hearing. She was kind, professional, and very persuasive. However, I remembered that I had once been told that it is a bad idea to waive the preliminary hearing. I told her that I wanted to hear what evidence they had and why I was being arrested. I also wanted to call Detective Porter to the stand so that he could express his opinion on the case. I knew that it was within the judge’s power to throw the case out and I thought it was highly probable.
     After a couple of minutes of discussion, it became painfully obvious that Ms. Reigle would not let me proceed with this hearing. She lied about the legal procedures in order to convince me to waive the hearing. She said that if I didn't waive the hearing, I couldn't acquire police reports from the case. She told me that if I did not waive the hearing, the Judge wouldn't grant me bail. She also told me that proceeding with the hearing would only agitate Detective Porter and that we wanted to keep him on our side. Lies.
     I held my ground and told her that I would not waive the hearing. She then left to go speak with my father who was upstairs in the courtroom. She repeated the lies to my father and convinced him that this would be a good idea. She returned to the basement of the courthouse to speak with me. She told me that even my father agreed I should waive the hearing. I told her once again that I would not do it. At this point she pushed the waiver in my face, took a pen, and smacked it on top of the paper. She said that this was something I had to do. I again told her I would not and that I would like to speak with my father to consult with him. She left the room and I heard her say that she'd almost convinced me and that I needed to talk to my dad.
     The officers in charge would not allow my father to come to the basement. All of the other inmates were done with their hearings and were waiting on me. As was the judge, the prosecutor, my family and the detective. Ms. Reigle returned once again to inform me that I could not speak to my father, and she once again told me I needed to waive the hearing. She promised me that the judge would set a bail if I did. The only thing I could think about was getting home to my fiancée, and I figured I could fight the case from the street if I had to. Finally, I reluctantly agreed to waive my hearing so that I could have a bail set. I signed the waiver and was escorted upstairs a couple of minutes later.
     Ms. Reigle informed the judge that I'd agreed to waive the hearing and proceeded to ask for bail. The charge was non-capital murder and bail was allowed. She asked the judge to follow the maximum guidelines for bail, which was $83,000 secured and $2,000 unsecured. The minimum guidelines are $30,500 secured and $500 unsecured. The prosecutor, Mr. R. David Favata, asked for $1 million. The judge settled close to the middle. He gave me $500,000 on the Murder First, $50,000 on the Possession of a Deadly Weapon During the Commission of a Felony (PDWDCF), $10,000 for Conspiracy First Degree, $10,000 for Conspiracy Second Degree, and $10,000 for Tampering with Physical Evidence, totaling $580,000 secured. I instantly regretted waiving my right to a preliminary hearing. I was taken back to prison, but I was hopeful that somehow my family would have the means to post my bail.
     After the preliminary hearing incident, the seriousness and severity of the situation really set in. It soon became obvious that the bail was unapproachable where it stood. My dad decided to hire a lawyer for me. My mom said that she would not contribute to the cost of the lawyer right away because she was hoping the bail would be lowered and she would spend her money on that. Dad did his research about hiring a lawyer. It seemed that most people recommended James Ligouri. He was widely acclaimed as the best lawyer in the state.
     Sometime in April my dad contacted Mr. Ligouri and asked about representation. He agreed to take on the case and would need a retainer fee of $15,000. He said that if the case were to go to trial, the fee would only be a “drop in the bucket” in comparison. Shortly after he was paid, Mr. Ligouri came to visit me in prison. He wanted to know a bit about the incident, and I told him a lot about it. I had prepared some questions for him, in addition to a few thoughts concerning strategy and different points of the case. I had also written a letter to Mr. Favata about points of the case, and told Mr. Ligouri I wanted to send it. He took the paper of questions and very quickly went through them. He advised me not to send the letter to Favata and asked for that as well. He also took the paper on which I'd written my thoughts and strategies. He told me that he would relate to Favata what I'd written if he thought it would be helpful. I asked him about a bail hearing as well. I was informed that Favata was on vacation on another continent and that we would have to wait until he returned. He didn't want to “go behind his back” or “piss him off.” He did say that he would review bail.
     I didn't know what to think about Ligouri. It was obvious that he knew what he was doing and that he was very experienced. However, I was a bit unsettled by his mannerisms. It seemed as if his attention was not fully on the case. He spoke with haste and left as quickly as he'd arrived. I didn't have much experience with private lawyers, so I shrugged it off.
     It wasn't too long before I saw him again, maybe a little less than two months. He had, at this point, acquired my Rule 16 Discovery paperwork. A Rule 16 is pretty much a copy of transcripts, affidavit paperwork, and other documents needed to prepare a criminal court hearing. However, he did not want to give me a copy of this paperwork. He said that it was unwise to possess this while in prison because another inmate could read it and try to use it against me for their benefit. I was upset about this and it didn't make sense to me. I believed it was more necessary for me to do my homework and study this material, to equip myself for the battle of my life.
     Ligouri was able to pacify me somewhat by explaining that my dad did have a copy of the Rule 16. We reviewed some of the information he had, but overall, the visit did not accomplish much. He told me that Randy had denied agreeing with me when I expressed my fear of David on the night of the incident. This was no surprise to me; after all, she is David’s sister. He also related that Joey had heard David’s threat and would testify to that. Once again he was in a hurry to leave, and our visit was over.
     The next visit with Ligouri was probably in the month of July. By this time I had spent several hours in the law library studying criminal law and case law pertaining to my case. I understood the grounds upon which I'd been arrested, and the Accomplice Liability law that supported it. I also knew the exemptions of Accomplice Liability and why I was indeed exempt for more than one reason.
     During this visit, I was presented with a plea bargain offer from the state. Ligouri told me that they wanted me to plead guilty to one count of Manslaughter (2 to 25 years) and one count of Conspiracy Second Degree (0 to 2 years). There were no recommendations made by the state as to how much time I would get. They also wanted me to agree to testify against both of my co-defendants and have a PSI (Pre-Sentence Investigation). I told Jim that I would not take the plea. He gave me a list of his view of the pros and cons of the plea with the pro side heavily weighted against the con. I told him I would plea to immunity or perhaps a misdemeanor charge with time served. We didn't discuss the case any further and he left.
     At this time there had been no new court dates or appearances. Jim had not filed a motion for a bail reduction or any other motion that I was aware of aside from the Rule 16. I was not pleased with how things were going, but I was innocent and knew it would all work out, so I tried to be patient. I had broken up with Dannette in June and it made it much easier for me to continue waiting for a chance to prove my innocence.
     I saw Jim again in August and I was not pleased with our visit. I had again written up some questions for him, which he hastily went through. He was applying pressure about the plea deal and the risks of trial. When I mentioned that Joey had also heard David’s threat on my life and that this exempted me from prosecution, he quickly said that Joey never said that. This was contrary with what was in Joey’s statement and with what Jim had already told me. It was now obvious why he didn't want me to have the Rule 16. It was also obvious that he was not looking out for my best interest. I realized that he only wanted to plea me out and be done with me. This was a devastating revelation but I wasn't about to give up and let Jim plea me out. I was prepared to go all the way.
     My first court appearance following the preliminary hearing was in mid-September. It wasn't an official court date, just a meeting arranged by the prosecutor, Dave Favata. The meeting was between myself, my lawyer, my dad, prosecutors Favata and Graham, and Detective Porter. The purpose of this meeting was for Favata to present the plea bargain to me and try to scare me into taking it. Once we were all sat down, he repeated his plea offer. He showed me color pictures of the victim’s body for whom I'd been charged, Trevor Moncrief. Graham tried to tell me that Jesus claimed I instigated the shooting. Favata read the laws of Accomplice Liability.
     The Accomplice Liability law was the law that allowed me to be arrested. It basically states that if an accomplice aids, abets, or influences a principal offender’s actions in a crime, that they can be arrested. I was arrested under this statute because of what I said to David after I gave him my knife, when I'd told him to “do what you have to do, hurry up, just finish.” However, the Accomplice Liability law also states that if someone is acting in fear for their own life, they are exempt from accomplice liability. It also states that if the principal offender’s actions are so defined that the outcome would have been the same despite the accomplice’s actions, the law is not applicable.
     I had studied these laws and knew them well. I knew I was guilty of no crimes and that to admit guilt to one would be ludicrous. After Favata’s speech, he told me that this would be his only plea offer and that if I didn't take it he would easily convict me of First Degree Murder. He then told me that I had only thirty minutes to discuss it with my dad and my lawyer to make up my mind. He then left the room. As soon as he left I told my lawyer I was not interested, asked my dad to share his thoughts, and then left. They took me back to a cell.
     When Ligouri saw that I wasn't going to take the plea, he was upset. He told my dad that he would need $40,000, in addition to the $15,000 that he'd already been paid, $10,000 of it by the next day, and if he didn't receive it, he would be meeting “a whole new guy”. He also told my dad that he thought I was a con artist and he'd rather be representing David Hamilton. He told him that it was nearly impossible to win the case and called my father an enabler.
My dad fired him.
     Shortly after their conversation, Ligouri came down to the basement of the courthouse and met with me in an interview room. He explained that my dad had fired him because he thought he was too expensive. Then he said we would have a court date for his withdrawal from counsel. He left in a hurry, as if this was all a waste of his time.
     A few days later, on September 21st, I was roused by a correctional officer calling out “bag and baggage”— the call they use in prison for an inmate’s release. I was confused but excited. I packed my things, ate breakfast, and went down to booking and receiving with the court-call inmates. At booking and receiving, I was informed that I would be moving to Howard R. Young Correctional Institution, known informally as Gander Hill, in Wilmington. They did not allow me to take my belongings and made me sign a property release form. I was upset by all this, but there was nothing I could do to change it.
     I was brought to a courthouse in Wilmington where I stayed for a few hours until I was taken to the prison with the other inmates. The prison was overcrowded and at first I was housed in the gym on a mat on the floor. I was taken to a cell block two days later. The only bright side I could find to my change in scenery was that in this prison I could buy food!
     On October 2nd I was woken up very early for court. I assumed this was for the motion Ligouri filed to withdraw from counsel, even though I hadn't gotten a copy of it or any paperwork from him. It was indeed the hearing. I was given a copy of the motion while in front of the judge, and I read it at the hearing. I agreed that we did not want Mr. Ligouri to represent me any longer, and the judge granted the motion. He informed me that the state would appoint me a new lawyer quickly. My trial date was January 7th and we would need someone to take up the case soon. I asked him about how I could go about receiving a refund from Mr. Ligouri, but he had no answer to my query. The hearing ended.
     On October 17th there was a long article about David Hamilton on the front page of the day’s newspaper. It explained the case in very inaccurate detail, and described David’s plea bargain. He had accepted a plea deal for thirty years, twenty mandatory, for Second Degree Murder, Manslaughter, and Possession of a Firearm. The conditions of the plea deal were that he would be moved to Georgetown’s S.C.I. prison, which explained why they had moved me so abruptly, and that he testify at both my and Aviles’ trials. I thought the plea was appropriate.
I was concerned, however, that he had agreed to testify against me. He had made a deal with the state’s prosecutors, and if they knew he would be beneficial to me, that would not have been a stipulation. He also moved from D.C.C. to S.C.I., probably out of fear of retaliation from Jesus. It became obvious that David had made a deal with the devil to save his life. After all, twenty years is better than two life sentences or the death penalty, his other apparent options.
     It wasn't until late in December that I met with the lawyer the state had appointed. I'd met with a private lawyer in November, Andy Witherell, to discuss the case as well. My dad didn't want to hire a private lawyer until we saw how qualified the state’s appointed lawyer was. His name was Chris Koyste. He seemed like a good lawyer at first. He said that it took the state so long to appoint someone to my case because they couldn't find someone with enough qualifications. During our conversation I learned that he wasn't very qualified himself. He specialized in child pornography cases and had never done a murder trial. I told him that I'd let him know if we were going to use him for this case and then he left.
     I called my dad shortly after I saw Mr. Koyste and I explained to him that I didn't believe he was qualified and that I'd be more comfortable hiring Andy. He agreed and set up a meeting with Andy. Andy charged $30,000 for his representation, $10,000 of which my dad paid. Mom paid the rest because she hadn't helped with the cost of Ligouri.
     I met with Andy shortly after we hired him. My January 7th court date was postponed and set for May 12th. He brought me my Rule 16 discovery paperwork the second time I met with him. He asked me to review it, make notes, and send them to him. I was feeling much more comfortable with Andy than I had with Ligouri. He seemed to have already done more work than Ligouri had. I reviewed the statements that , David, Jesus, Matt, Joey, Matt’s wife, Alton Adams, I, and some others had made. Many of us had made more than one statement. My discovery packet contained my first two statements, but not the third. I found that David had made a fresh statement on the day he was sentenced. This was another a condition of his plea bargain. As I read it, I became infuriated. It was full of inaccuracies, half-truths, and outright malicious lies.
     I was comforted when I read the statements of everyone else; they were all truthful. Joey mentioned David’s blatant threat. He made no mention of me telling David to kill anyone as the prosecutors had claimed. Jesus described my shocked state, as did Matt. The only negative part of the whole thing remained the lies contained in David’s statements. I was sure my lawyer would clean that up at trial. I filled nine pages of notes, pointing out every inaccuracy in David’s statements, and I sent them to Andy.
     Over the next few months I met with Andy and the private investigator, Thomas Monahan, he'd hired for the case. I was always comfortable and satisfied with our visits. The private investigator seemed to be working diligently to acquire useful information. My hopes were high and I was confident of my chances in court. When Andy visited, he would update me on the case and tell me whatever plea bargain the state had offered. He wouldn't talk about specifics of the case, but he seemed as though he knew what was going on, and I knew his investigator kept him updated.
     In May I met with Dr. Stephen Mechanick. He was a psychiatrist that Andy had hired to evaluate me to determine if I was under duress at the time of the murders. We talked for more than an hour. He asked me about my past, and he asked if I could describe the murder in detail; I did so as best as I could remember. I hadn't had time to gather my thoughts because Andy hadn't told me I'd be meeting with him. Nonetheless, the interview went well. Dr. Mechanick wrote a report concluding that I was under extreme duress at the time of the incident and acted only out of fear for my life. He read a testimony from me and my codefendants, and used details from these transcripts to support this conclusion.
     On May 9th, Andy informed me that we would be starting trial that Monday, the 12th. He seemed nervous because he hadn't yet gotten the report from Mechanick, but he said we were going to begin regardless. That Monday I showed up in court and the report still hadn't been written. Andy asked for another week while we waited for the report, and a new date of May 19th was set. On May 19th I was again taken to court. The report was written and we were ready to go. Andy was much more confident now that he knew Mechanick could testify on my behalf.
The state’s prosecutors were not prepared for a report so devastating to their case. Favata seemed to really believe that I was guilty of being an accomplice to murder. They asked for another continuance so that they could have me examined by the state’s psychiatrist. I did not want to wait any longer—I had already been incarcerated for fourteen months. However, Andy said that if the state’s examiner came back with the same results that the case could be dropped altogether. I was reluctant but agreed to waive my right to a speedy trial.
     I met with the state’s psychiatrist, Robert Thompson, on July 1st. He interviewed me for nearly two hours. I told him everything that had happened that night. Dr. Thompson reviewed transcripts of statements from me, David, Matt, Joey, Albert, and Jesus, and his conclusion was almost exactly that of Dr. Mechanick’s. He would not state directly that I was under duress, though. He worked for the state and wrote the report in a way that would not be as damaging to their case, though it lent no support to their case against me. In fact, the jurors never met him!
     My new trial date was September 29th. I met with Andy on the 26th. He assured me that we would start on time and that he was confident with the case. He told me to prepare a list of possible witnesses and that Mr. Monahan would be in to get it the next day. I prepared the list. I saw Monahan on Saturday and gave him the list. It had people who could testify to David’s erratic behavior and to my mental state immediately after the murders. On Monday I was taken to court to begin trial.
     That Monday we picked the jury. I was very confident with the jury that we selected, and I had high hopes with how the trial would turn out. After we picked the jury, Dave Favata decided he wanted to speak with Andy and me. He explained that he did not want me to do life and that I would surely lose the trial. He wanted me to take a plea bargain to Manslaughter. He put before me a fifteen-year maximum and five-year minimum recommendation. Andy seemed to think I would get closer to five. I declined the plea on the basis that I was guilty of no crime. I was prepared to go to trial.