And Never See Her Again (26 page)

To convict Franks of aggravated kidnapping, jurors had to find that he abducted Opal with the intent to terrorize her, inflict bodily injury, or violate or abuse her sexually.

To prove Franks abducted her, jurors would have to find that he held her in a place where she was not likely to be found. Because Opal was younger than fourteen, prosecutors only had to prove that Franks took her somewhere, not that she was forced or restrained.

If Franks was convicted of aggravated kidnapping, Judge Gill, not the jury, would assess his punishment. Because Richard Franks had a prior conviction for child sexual assault, he faced an automatic life sentence.

Spectators and members of both the Franks and Sanderford families nervously paced the courtroom and adjacent hall, anxiously looking toward the door that led to the jury room at the rear of the jury box. They also listened for the brash buzzer the jury foreman would press to indicate the twelve men and women had reached a decision.

One hour led to two, and there was still no word from the jury. Tensions mounted. When the buzzer finally sounded, indicating the jury was summoning the bailiff, all eyes darted toward the door to the jury room. But the jury hadn't reached a decision. Instead, they sent a note to judge Gill indicating they were in disagreement over the testimony of five-yearold Spencer Williams.

The twelve-member panel filed back into the courtroom, taking their seats, where they had listened to testimony during the four-day trial.

State district judge Robert Gill held the court reporter's transcribed notes and read Spencer Williams's testimony. Young Spencer had testified that a man abducted his friend Opal from outside her grandmother's Saginaw home. He had explained that Opal screamed as she was being placed inside a man's car on March 26, 1999, while playing with him and her two-year-old cousin, Austin. Spencer had told the jury that the car taking Opal away was dark in color with a star on the back.

Jurors, having heard the testimony they requested, returned to the jury room to deliberate further. As the day dragged on with no verdict, the strain of waiting caused friction between members of the Franks family and some of the witnesses who had testified during the trial. Shouting erupted and television cameras moved in to catch the confrontation on tape.

Feeling television cameras had invaded the family's privacy, Harold Hemphill, Franks's half brother, raised his right hand toward the spying cameras, his middle finger extended as his remaining fingers clenched into a defiant fist. Cameras recorded the obscene gesture, further antagonizing Hemphill. Rodney Franks later denied the allegation that he, too, had "shot the bird" at the press, arguing that someone had misconstrued his actions when he innocently had scratched his head.

Even if Rodney Franks's explanation was true, Leon Haley asked Rodney Franks and Harold Hemphill to leave the courthouse.

Outside, on the steps of the Tarrant CountyJustice Center, Hemphill and Rodney Franks continued to expound on the injustice of their brother's arrest and trial. Inside, the mood, although tense, was more composed as the families of Ricky Franks and Opal Jennings waited. The Franks family hoped to take Ricky home; the Sanderford family knew that whatever the verdict, they might never see Opal again.

After they'd deliberated almost seven hours, judge Gill excused the jury panel for the night, asking them to return at eight-thirty the following morning to continue discussions. The jury hadn't indicated they were hopelessly deadlocked, giving rise to the hope that they would be able to agree on a verdict eventually.

The defense saw the delay as a positive indication that their client would be exonerated. "I think it's a pretty good sign that they haven't come to a decision yet," Ed Jones told the crowd of reporters waiting for the long-expected verdict. "The longer they take, it means they are really looking carefully at the evidence."

Prosecutors declined to comment on the amount of time being spent by the jury on deciding Franks's guilt or innocence, but Greg Miller was leery. He knew that, historically, the longer a jury took to reach a verdict, the less likely a conviction. Perhaps the best he could hope for was a hung jury. Miller didn't sleep much that night, and he rose early to drive from his home in neighboring Arlington to downtown Fort Worth and, once again, sit and wait for the jury's decision.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, perhaps the frustration at no longer having control over his case, but Miller looked fatigued. His normally clear green eyes were veiled with concern. When the buzzer sounded and a bailiff called Miller at his office to inform him that the jury was coming in, Miller simply straightened his tie and headed to Judge Gill's courtroom. The outcome of the trial was no longer in his hands. Miller, like the others who waited to hear the jury's decision, would have to accept their verdict.

As the twelve men and women filed into the jury box, their faces reflected the twelve long hours they had spent over two days in deliberations. There was no hint what their final decision would be.

In a strong, authoritative voice, judge Gill spoke into the mike affixed to his bench. "The jury reports they are deadlocked on the guilt or innocence of Richard Lee Franks. I'm declaring a mistrial and will set a new trial date."

Leon Haley, Ed Jones, and Patrick Davis suppressed smiles at hearing the news. Ricky Franks turned to his family, his face expressing more confusion than relief. Even if Franks didn't realize what Judge Gill meant by mistrial, his attorneys knew it was a victory. They were encouraged that the jury had considered all the evidence and hadn't been swayed by the emotions surrounding six-year-old Opal Jennings's disappearance. But above all, they were pleased that Ricky Franks hadn't been found guilty.

Across the aisle Greg Miller, Robert Foran, and Lisa Callahan stood expressionless. Anyone that knew the three determined prosecutors knew that the mistrial was taken as a defeat. They had prepared well, and although there was no physical evidence to present to the jury, Miller remained resolute that he pursued the case against the right man.

"Ricky Franks took Opal Jennings. We'll try to do a better job the next time," Miller vowed.

Ricky Franks's mother clinched her hands and closed her eyes when she heard Judge Gill's words. Franks's wife, Judy, beamed.

Audrey Sanderford's tight lips, furrowed brow, and rigid posture gave away the anger she felt inside. She wasn't surprised the trial ended in a hung jury. She wouldn't have been amazed if Franks had even been found not guilty of the charges. Audrey had never accused Richard Franks of kidnapping her granddaughter.

"This has always been the state's case," Audrey later told reporters. "This was never my case. My opinion has no consequence in this."

Audrey's harsh words reflected the animosity she had developed for Greg Miller over the course of trial preparation. Audrey believed the focus of everyone connected with the case should be on finding Opal, not on convicting someone for her kidnapping.

"We need to get out there and work for Opal. We need to get back to the business of finding my child," Audrey stated.

As spectators exchanged opinions on the jury's inability to produce a verdict, and lawyers for both sides gathered their books and briefcases, Ricky Franks looked toward his family with an expression of dazed uncertainty.

Did Franks think he would be going home, as Ed Jones had asked the jury to let him do? Did he realize he would be confined to the Tarrant County Jail for an as-yet-undetermined amount of time awaiting a new trial?

His attorneys made no request to reduce the $1,000,000 bail set when Franks was first arrested.

When the bailiffs approached Franks, each taking an arm to lead him back through the underground passageway that led from the courthouse to the jail, he had a momentary flash of anger before he displayed what appeared to be a sense of understanding and acceptance.

Ricky Franks finally understood he wouldn't be going home that day.

The Richard Franks jury panel waited patiently inside the jury room. Greg Miller wanted to speak to them personally, as he did with every case-win, lose, or draw. He began by thanking them for their service and their efforts in trying diligently to come to a verdict. He then discovered the jury had twice been deadlocked, with six voting guilt and six favoring acquittal. The jury's final vote was split seven to five in favor of conviction.

"I'd like to ask you about my case. What didn't I do to persuade you Ricky Franks kidnapped Opal Jennings? What more could I have done?" Miller asked.

A middle-aged woman spoke up. "Look at the picture," she said, picking up a photo of Franks's car.

"What?" Miller asked, glancing down at the photo.

"Look at it the way a four-year-old would look at it," the juror stated.

Miller stared at the 8-by-10-inch glossy color photo of Richard Franks's Mercury Cougar. His forehead wrinkled as he attempted to understand what the woman was saying.

"The boy said there was a star on the back. You-all kept talking about the emblem on the trunk deck, look at the photo as if you were only about three feet tall. Do you know what you see?"

Miller continued to stare at the picture in which the rear of the Cougar was depicted.

"There's a star on the license plate. A four-year-old would see the star on the plate and remember it," she said.

The identification of the car had been a problem for the jurors. It was no wonder Spencer hadn't recognized any of the Dodge automobiles at CarMax, he hadn't been talking about an emblem at all, but the star that appears on the license plates of most Texas vehicles.

Miller swore he wouldn't let the identification of the car stonewall the next trial. He would cover it thoroughly, leaving no doubt in the next jury's mind.

September 18, 2000, was the date judge Robert Gill set for the retrial of Richard Lee Franks, 21/z months after Franks's mistrial. Greg Miller vowed to present a stronger case.

"It will be a different trial," Miller announced with confidence. 'We'll put on all of the witnesses that we would have used for rebuttal last time. We'll do a few things differently this time. Hindsight's a wonderful thing when you're a trial lawyer."

It was somewhat of a surprise that Leon Haley, Ed Jones, and Patrick Davis remained on the case to try it a second time. Most veteran court watchers thought the hung jury to be a victory for the defense and wondered why would the three lawyers risk taking on a case they could possibly lose.

On September 18, 2000, sixty-five prospective jurors sat in Judge Gill's courtroom ready to be questioned by both the defense and prosecution. From the sixty-five, twelve would try, as had their predecessors, to determine Richard Lee Franks's guilt or innocence.

The defense planned to focus on the police interrogation in which Franks had admitted he had had contact with Opal Jennings. They intended to concentrate on their client's mental state at the time of the interrogation and his diminished mental capacity. Haley felt that if the jury kept an open mind and gave Franks a fair trial, they would find him not guilty.

Greg Miller and his team were anxious to get on with the second trial. It had been an exhausting 2' months preparing for their second courtroom faceoff. Miller had endured the constant questioning of Audrey Sanderford, the persistent scrutiny of the press, and harassment from one of Franks's relatives. He wanted the Ricky Franks case disposed of and a conviction secured.

Miller also had been living with the image of Opal Jennings in his head for more than a year-her luminous eyes, the way her mouth turned up at the corners when she smiled, the innocence reflected in her young face. Miller believed without reservation that Ricky Franks had kidnapped Opal, and he felt certain that Franks had killed her. It would be a no-holdsbarred prosecution, even if it became the battle of the psychologists, one where the defendant's IQ would be evaluated by professionals brought in by both the defense and the prosecution. Miller pledged that every witness would be ready, every witness would be called. He knew that in the end Franks's mental capacity would be determined by the twelve-member jury.

Miller threw himself into the second trial with even more dedication than the first, promising himself that if the trial again ended in a hung jury, he would not be the one to lead the prosecution on a third attempt to convict Richard Lee Franks.

Audrey Sanderford made her way into Judge Gill's Tarrant County courtroom, where she would once again hear testimony concerning Opal's disappearance. She looked frail. Her face was drawn, her posture slumped. A pink corsage was attached to the left side of her black-and-white jacket, a gift from friends who wanted to bolster her spirits for the difficult time ahead. Audrey's hair held a fresh rinse of dark brown color, but her efforts at looking her best had done little to mask the stress she was under.

Robert Sanderford followed shortly behind Audrey. It was obvious as they took their places on the wooden pewlike benches reserved for the family that they were no longer together. Audrey sat a couple of rows behind the front railing, while Robert took a place near the back of the room. They didn't speak.

Leola Sanderford, her dark bangs curled and her long hair reaching below her shoulders, took a seat next to Teresa. Leola's aunt had been her rock through the ordeal of her daughter's abduction, Franks's arrest, and the first kidnapping trial. She stayed close to Teresa, absorbing her strength.

For thirteen months Richard Franks had been in custody in the Tarrant County Jail. With his bond set at $1,000.000, Franks's family had no way of securing his release, and even if they had, following his mistrial three months earlier, Franks's defense team hadn't asked for a bond reduction. Their client was protected in his present location, tucked away from the prosecution, the press, and even his own family. It had not been determined from whom the harassment received by Assistant District Attorney Greg Miller had originated, but speculation was high that members of Franks's family had initiated them. It was better if Franks's contact was limited.