Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

of these strangers who was interested in your movements, past or present, could just go to your Facebook page and see the posts on your wall, am I right?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “For example, someone could go to that page right now and scroll through your updates and see that back in September of last year you hung out in the garage at WestLand, waiting for Mitchell Bondurant, correct?”
    “Yes, they could.”
    I pulled my phone out of my pocket and, using the lectern as a blind, brought it up and put it down on the work surface. While leafing through the printout of names with one hand, I used the other to open the text I had just received. The message was from Bullocks.
    3rd page, right column, 5th from bottom—Don Driscoll. We have a Donald Driscoll as former ALOFT in IT. We’re working it.
    Bingo. Now I had something I could hit out of the park.
    “Your Honor, I would like to show the witness this document. It is a printout of the names of people who have friended Lisa Trammel on Facebook.”
    Freeman, seeing her victorious morning in jeopardy, objected but the judge overruled without argument from me, saying Freeman had opened this door herself. I gave my client the list and returned to the lectern.
    “Can you please go to the third page of the printout and read the name that is fifth up from the bottom in the right-side column?”
    Freeman objected again, stating that the list was unverified. The judge advised her to challenge it on re-cross if she thought I was introducing a bogus exhibit. I told Lisa she could read the name.
    “Don Driscoll.”
    “Thank you. Now is that name familiar to you?”
    “Not really, no.”
    “But he is one of your Facebook friends.”
    “I know but like I said, I don’t know everybody who friends me. There are too many.”
    “Well, do you recall if Don Driscoll ever contacted you directly and identified himself as working for a company called ALOFT?”
    Freeman objected and asked for a sidebar. We were called to the bench.
    “Judge, what’s going on here? Counsel can’t just throw names around. I want an offer of proof that he isn’t just throwing darts at the list and picking out a name.”
    Perry nodded thoughtfully.
    “I agree, Mr. Haller.”
    My phone was still on the lectern. If I had gotten any updates from Bullocks they weren’t going to help me now.
    “Judge, we could go into chambers and get my investigator on the phone, if you wish. But I would ask the court for some leeway here. The prosecution opened up this Facebook issue just this morning and I am trying to respond. We can hold things up for an offer of proof or we can wait until the defense calls Don Driscoll to the stand and Ms. Freeman can have at him and see if I am mischaracterizing who he is.”
    “You are going to call him?”
    “I don’t think I have any choice in light of the state’s decision to pursue my client’s old Facebook posts.”
    “Very well, we’ll wait for Mr. Driscoll to testify. Don’t disappoint me, Mr. Haller, and come into court and say you changed your mind. I won’t be happy if that happens.”
    “Yes, Your Honor.”
    We returned to our places and I asked Lisa the question again.
    “Did Don Driscoll ever contact you on Facebook or anywhere else and say he worked for ALOFT?”
    “No, he didn’t.”
    “Are you familiar with ALOFT?”
    “Yes. That is the name of the foreclosure mill that banks like WestLand use to file all the paperwork on their foreclosures.”
    “Was this company involved in the foreclosure of your home?”
    “Yes, totally.”
    “Is ALOFT an acronym? Do you know what it stands for?”
    “A. Louis Opparizio Financial Technologies. That’s the name of the company.”
    “Now, what would it mean to you if this person Donald Driscoll, who was one of your friends on Facebook, was employed by ALOFT?”
    “It would mean that somebody from ALOFT was getting all my posts.”
    “So, essentially, this person Driscoll would know where you’ve been and where you’re going, correct?”
    “That’s correct.”
    “He would have been privy to your posts from last September that said you had found Mr. Bondurant’s parking spot at the bank and that you were going to wait for him, correct?”
    “Yes, correct.”
    “Thank you, Lisa. I have nothing further.”
    On my way back to my seat I had to steal a glance at Freeman. She was no longer beaming. She was staring straight ahead. I then looked out into the gallery for Maggie, but she was