The road to D.E.L.T.A. Rescue wound up a California mountainside, past sun-scorched brush and brittle dirt, through desolation where things—dogs, cats, people—could disappear without a trace.
The sanctuary sat at the peak, a sprawling 115-acre haven for creatures no one wanted, where their keeper, 75-year old Leo Grillo, ruled like a benevolent king over a kingdom of the discarded.
It was supposed to be about the animals. It had always been.
Duarte
What Grillo knew about her was the lie she told: she had been a lettuce picker, moving through fields in Southern California. But that was not true.
What he did not know was that Duarte crossed the border with her husband, Raul Lopez, and their son, Raul Jr., illegally.
She had no Social Security number, no tax records, no history of employment.
She gave D.E.L.T.A. a fake social security number and said she was a lettuce picker, hands raw from the harvest.
Leo Grillo said, “give her a break.”
She started at D.E.L.T.A. in June 2017, earning $15 an hour to care for rescued cats in the cattery.
The compound stretched wide under the California sun. Rows of dog yards with pools and adobe houses, metal fencing, dust kicking up underfoot. A thousand animals or more, housed, fed, cared for.
The workers moved through their routines—feeding, scrubbing, checking water bowls, locking gates. It was a job. For some, a duty. For Adriana Duarte, it had been both and something more.
Stealing
At first, it was just a bag or two.
A little extra cat food tossed in her truck. No one noticed.
If they did, Adriana Duarte had an answer. “I’m taking it to the other cattery.”
But there was dog food too. Premium brands. Enough to feed hundreds of animals at the sanctuary. The truck got a little fuller each time.
Cat food. Dog food. Paper goods. Cleaning supplies. Janitorial stock. Blankets for the dogs that they folded into the mattresses of the dog beds inside their houses to keep them warm.
Item after item, loaded up and driven away.
At home, her husband, Raul Lopez, noticed, told her it was not a good idea, but let her continue. The money was too good. It was more than she had ever made before, and far more than the $350 per week he made – cash under the table.
Over two and a half years, more than $350,000 worth of supplies disappeared, sold at swap meets, and reportedly to illegal Mexican breeders who raise pitbulls to fight and kill each other.
Pregnancy
There were 35 workers at D.E.L.T.A., most of them Mexican Americans. Duarte managed the cattery’s supply orders.
That’s when she found Jorge Avalos. He worked with the rescue horses and lived in a trailer near the stables.
He had a place to relax. A place to hide. Her time cards showed Duarte was working in the cattery when she was actually in the trailer with Avalos.
By 2019, forensic reports show her stealing had reached $10,000 a month.
Then an unfortunate event occurred. She got pregnant. Not with her husband but with Jorge Avalos in the trailer.
D.E.L.T.A. had a policy against pregnant employees working in catteries. Toxoplasmosis could cause miscarriage or birth defects.
Duarte’s thefts would end if D.E.L.T.A. found out. She had to hide her pregnancy.
But around the eighth month the whispers started. Was Duarte pregnant? Grillo was asked by a supervisor if he heard the rumor that she was pregnant.
Grillo needed to know to protect her and her unborn baby. But how do you ask?
“You don’t want to tell an obese woman that she looks pregnant,” he later explained.
He sent someone else. Duarte denied it.
She Leaves
She had planned to work as long as she could, keep her job, keep the routine. But on January 31, something felt off. She left work, went straight to the emergency room. The doctors told her her blood pressure was high. Too high. Dangerous for the baby.
She texted her supervisor. Said she wouldn’t be in the next day.
Discovery
Rosabel Carillo took over the cattery. She ordered a week’s worth of inventory. It was less than what Duarte had ordered in a single day. That’s when the numbers stopped adding up.
Admits Pregnancy
Then, on February 2, Duarte messaged Grillo. Four days after she was gone, she sent Grillo an email.
“Mr. Leo, excuse me for not doing things right. I am having my baby. I said nothing because I did not want to disturb him… I just want to go back and keep working the same way, sir. I don’t want days off.”
Grillo read the email.
She had hidden her pregnancy. Lied about it.
She had been lifting cases of cat and dog food. Loading supplies. Vanishing in her truck.
In response, he didn’t confront her. Didn’t mention the missing food. Didn’t mention the truckloads of stolen supplies.
Instead, he wrote, “You’re pregnant. You can’t work with cats.”
A few words, nothing more.
“If we have an opening, we will let you know.”
February 4, 2020
Two days later, she gave birth to a daughter by C-section.
She wrote another email to Grillo.
“Sir, I’m ready to start working, everything is fine with me, my baby is already born.”
From not pregnant to pregnant in a hospital to a baby born via C-section and ready to work the next day. But a C-section recovery takes weeks to recover.
He was being set up.
On February 5, his response was firm.
“Sorry Adriana, but we replaced you already.”
Then another:
“I know about babies and new mothers. You are not acting like one.”
And another:
“The fact that you lied to us discredits anything else you say. I do not tolerate lying in this organization. Mistakes, maybe. But never lies.”
Final sentence. No room for doubt.
“No, you cannot work here ever again.”
Cucked Husband
Raul Lopez would not reinstate her either. He did not visit his wife in the hospital. Neither was his last name put on the birth certificate of the baby.
Instead, he went looking for Avalos and found him at the grocery store.
Avalos stood in the line buying beer. He saw Lopez. A glance. A pause. Then Avalos ran.
Lopez followed.
Avalos reached his truck. Slammed the door.
Lopez was behind him. Speeding. Avalos veered off the road. A cloud of dust. He jumped out. The brush was thick. He dove in and hid in the bushes.
Avalos didn’t go back for his things. By dawn, he was gone.
Mexico was safer.
Lonely
Duarte—left alone. Her lover, vanished. Her husband, furious.
The job? Over. The theft money—cut off.
She had an infant in her arms but as she admitted later, she could not bond with her. Look at the trouble the baby had caused.
But she seemed to recover.
After her firing, she cleaned houses. No real push for full-time work. No urgency to find another job.
Sure, she could think about the food she stole from D.E.L.T.A., the stacks of supplies she skimmed off the top, the extra cash in her pocket. It was gone now. No more side deals. No more easy money.
She had built something for herself at that job—a scheme, an operation, a way to make more than the fifteen bucks an hour D.E.L.T.A. paid her.
She had been careful. It had helped. Paid for things her salary never could. And now nothing.
Yes, she cried when she thought of her son, the one she had helped put through college. The other, who had wanted a car to get to work. They had counted on stolen money.
A month after the firing, she filled out a routine mental health screening. No signs of depression, no trouble sleeping. A year later, a different questionnaire suggested mild symptoms.
The Lawsuit
Duarte got in her truck and drove ninety minutes to Studio City. She had a name in mind. Someone ruthless. Someone who could make a case out of anything.
Jacob A. Nalbandyan.
A lawyer with a reputation for suing without being overly scrupulous about the truth.
He met her in his office, listened, nodded. By the time she left, the lawsuit was in motion.
The complaint was filed January 12, 2021, for wage and overtime claims and wrongful termination; and disability discrimination based on pregnancy.
She wasn’t just suing for her job—she was suing for millions.
Insurance
D.E.L.T.A.’s defense was handled by its insurer, The Nonprofits Insurance Alliance of California (NIAC).
NIAC brought in Lawyers L. Rangel and Yolanda E. Lopez of ClouseSpaniac—hired to defend.
The coverage had limits. Wage and hour claims? Covered. Emotional distress? Covered. But punitive damages? Not their problem.
NIAC’s role was clear: defend, but not too much.
NIAC took control. Paid for the lawyers, dictated the defense.
But from the start, it made its position clear: Punitive damages? Not covered. Wage violations? Not covered. Restitution? Not covered.
Still, it steered the case. Not to protect D.E.L.T.A.. To protect itself.
The Deposition
Leo Grillo’s deposition was taken a year later.
During the deposition, in the midst of questioning by Duarte’s aggressive counsel, Grillo described Duarte as a “lettuce picker” and that she had stolen from D.E.L.T.A.
The deposition continued. The attorney pressed.
Grillo leaned in to explain how Duarte was lying. How could she have a baby by C-section one day and go to work the next day.
“You’re a woman,” he told Duarte’s lawyer. “How many days are you laid up or weeks with a C-section with a scar and a thing and infection?”
The attorney started to respond. “Well, just because I’m a woman, sir, I have no idea—”
Grillo cut in. “Oh, my God. Check it out. You must have friends—”
Grillo was trying to express she was not fluent in the English language. He called her an “illiterate woman who can’t speak English, who was a lettuce picker.”
Grillo said, “The woman was a lettuce picker who was doing her work. That was in my view. She was a lettuce picker, like she said.”
Grillo, “She said she’s a lettuce picker, and we find out she’s not.”
The camera was rolling
They asked about her. The woman who lied, stole, padded her hours while sleeping around. Now, she wanted millions.
Grillo didn’t hesitate.
“If you’re asking me about the bimbo, no, she wasn’t in until the afternoon.”
It was on tape. A single line, clipped and stored. Ready to be played.
By the time of Grillo’s deposition, it had been two years since Duarte had left the sanctuary.
An Offer
D.E.L.T.A.’s lawyers warned NIAC—settle the case. Avoid a high-stakes trial. NIAC ignored them. Instead, it let the case spiral.
During and after the deposition Duarte’s attorney made a demand of $1 million to settle the case.
NIAC authorized $736,000.
The offer was never communicated to D.E.L.T.A.
Behind the scenes, NIAC was building a paper trail. D.E.L.T.A. was accused of failing to cooperate. Blocking jury consultants. Limiting communication. The goal? Prove noncompliance.
If D.E.L.T.A. lost big, NIAC could walk away.
The insurer’s lawyers denied a conflict of interest. But the reality was clear. The defense team hadn’t protected D.E.L.T.A.. It had protected NIAC’s balance sheet.
Judge’s Exclusions
The case was assigned to Judge Kristin S. Escalante.
Almost immediately, she set limits on what the jury could know.
Her rulings ensured the jury would hear select portions of Leo Grillo’s deposition—without the context.
What Comes In:
- His exchange with opposing counsel about C-sections: “You’re a woman. How many days are you laid up or weeks with a C-section with a scar and a thing and infection? … Oh, my God. Check it out. You must have friends.”
- A reference to the plaintiff’s background as a “lettuce picker.”
What’s Kept Out:
- Any mention of the plaintiff’s immigration status.
- Her history of worker’s compensation claims against a former factory employers, not a lettuce farm.
- That D.E.L.T.A. is a nonprofit reliant on donations.
- Any reference to settlement negotiations.
- Any suggestion that the plaintiff’s lawsuit fit a pattern.
- Grillo could not explain the bimbo comment. Could not clarify what led to his suspicions of theft. The judge allowed the jury to hear his words—but barred him from defending them.
The lawsuit centers, the judge decided, on the deposition testimony of Grillo, which Judge Esclante described to the court as “racist.”
The jury wouldn’t hear that Duarte was in the country illegally, had lied about being a U.S. citizen, and used a fake Social Security number to get the job.
Her alleged theft of sanctuary supplies? Blocked.
Her affair with Avalos? Blocked.
The child’s paternity? Blocked.
That she spent alleged overtime hours sneaking off with Avalos and other men? Blocked.
Cannot discuss Duarte’s recently uncovered prior false worker’s comp claims because it might make the jury think this lawsuit is part of a pattern.
D.E.L.T.A. cannot mention the cross-complaint alleging her stealing.
Cannot tell the jury D.E.L.T.A. is a nonprofit that runs on donations.
Cannot present evidence of 45 years of fair treatment of their Hispanic employees.
What the Plaintiff’s Lawyers Can Say
Plaintiff’s attorneys get to cherry-pick. They can strip context, twist meaning, and frame Grillo however they want.
The jury will hear:
A fragmented discussion about pregnancy and C-sections—out of context, made to sound cruel.
A comment about “lettuce pickers,” even though that was how the plaintiff’s work history was described to Leo.
Edited video clips designed to paint Leo as the villain.
D.E.L.T.A. is fighting for survival, but cannot tell the jury what’s at stake.
The Trial
The action came on for trial on October 1, 2024, in Department 24 of the Superior Court of California, County of Los Angeles.
Inside the courtroom of Judge Kristin Escalante, far from the howls and whimpers of the animals he saved, Grillo was on trial not in name, but in spirit.
The atmosphere was like a lynching.
The judge had made her pretrial rulings. D.E.L.T.A. was not to be called a charity. Not to be described as a nonprofit.
Leo Grillo had spent years among animals. The kind that came broken and frightened, waiting to be cared for, fed, left in peace. His world was one of iron gates and quiet routines, long days spent rescuing alone in the wilderness, ensuring creatures nobody else wanted would be saved from starvation and injury and live out their lives in safety.
The judge wasn’t interested in the decades he worked, the policies, the reasons, the organization he built. She wanted to ensure the jury did not see D.E.L.T.A. as a refuge but a place that had cast out a woman at the worst possible time, that had punished her for bringing a child into the world.
The jury—mostly Hispanic, as expected in downtown Los Angeles, sat watching.
The Video Clips
Jacob Nalbandyan had a weapon. Short videos, cut out of order, stripped of context.
During his six-hour deposition, Grillo called Duarte a “bimbo.” Said she was “obese.” A “lettuce picker.”
The judge allowed videos of Grillo’s deposition to be played.
A deposition, two years old, taken long after the termination, had played on repeat. It was used to persuade jurors that it was his state of mind at the time of the firing, but it was not, it was his state of mind after a woman who lied, stole from him and was now suing his sanctuary that he spent his life building for millions of dollars. That was his state of mind during the deposition.
The footage, cut and arranged, presented not a case, but a character—Grillo.
The jury saw it again and again until it was no longer evidence, but a narrative.
Grillo was no longer a man defending himself, but a villain on loop.
It was never about what he said, but how many times the jury heard it—played on a 47 inch high definition TV screen.
The video should have been a side note. Instead, it was the trial. Every glare, every smirk, every word, played and replayed until it wasn’t testimony. It was character assassination.
The jury watched as Leo Grillo on the giant screen—his words frozen in time, cut down to a handful of bitter seconds.
They saw it over fifty times.
Twenty-four times on the day he testified.
They did not see the 1500 animals he had saved or the sanctuary he built from nothing. They did not hear of the missing supplies, the stolen food, the nights Duarte spent in the hayloft. The blankets that disappeared.
They saw a white man call a Hispanic woman “obese” and a “lettuce picker.”
The jury – eight Mexican Americans, one Asian, one Black, two Whites—ten of whom were women—watched him over and over.
That was the trial. No context. No defense. No truth.
Just the videos. Fifty times.
They did not hear that Duarte’s depression wasn’t because of a $15 per hour job of lost wages or a love of cats but for what she had stolen from the cats.
The jury did not hear about her husband’s rage. Or the lover in the trailer.
The tapes played, again and again, and by the time Grillo took the stand, Grillo was no longer a man but a relic from another time.
And just to ensure that the jury did not confuse the live Grillo testifying with the Grillo on the videos, on the day he took the stand, Nalbandyan, with the judge’s permission, played the videos of Grillo from the deposition twenty-four times.
Duarte Testifies
While Grillo only appeared on video, Duarte, draped in black, was there every day for the trial.
She came with her four-year old daughter, dressed in rags.
One time Nalbandyan carried her in front of the jury.
One juror was so moved, she brought the child a gift.
He held her shoulders, whispered to her words of comfort. One time he openly wept with his client.
The jury watched.
He turned to them. “Ten million dollars for every tear,” he said.
Duarte was called.
Nalbandyan asked how she felt when she got the email from Grillo saying she could not come back.
“Like a failure,” she said through an interpreter. “Everything crumbled. The plans, my dreams.”
She “closed herself up in a capsule”—her words. Sealed away from her baby girl, her husband, her children.
She left the hospital on February 6, 2020. The job was gone.
Yes, she cried in the hospital. Cried at home. She couldn’t sleep.
She felt guilty that she couldn’t give her kids what she promised. Couldn’t help her son with college. Couldn’t help her other son get a car for work.
The Cuckold Testifies
Then they called her husband, the man who almost killed her lover and drove him from the United States.
Raul Lopez was an illegal alien but the defense was not allowed to mention that.
They were not allowed to discuss his anger at being cucked by a dishonest wife or how much money she stole from D.E.L.T.A..
He described how when she worked at D.E.L.T.A. she came home, kissed him, hugged him, asked how his day was. (No mention that the kiss had the taste of her lover’s lips.)
She decorated the house, made it pretty.
Yes, he admitted he wasn’t there when Elizabeth was born. He “regrets that.”
But she called him from the hospital. Crying. “They fired me.” That’s what she said.
When she came home, she was damaged. She looked like she had been stepped on. She locked herself in the bedroom. She didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. “She missed the cats.”
For four months, she barely spoke to him. Before, she had been loving (too loving if the truth were told). Now, she isn’t “even a shadow of what she used to be.”
Dr. Reading the Know All
Nalbandyan called the expert. Dr. Anthony Reading, a clinical psychologist. He had examined Duarte only once on January 9, 2024—to determine if a psychiatric disorder had ever been present.
Did losing the job break her? That was the question. He decided it had.
He leaned on her own account, plus a note from a hospital social worker who said she cried when she was fired.
He said she loved the work. It was more than a job. It was an identity. She wanted to stay. She wanted to make money.
The stealing was never mentioned, possibly because Dr. Reading did not know.
She had expected to keep working and stealing and loving the job and her lover.
Dr. Reading concluded that losing the job caused her psychological collapse. It was “a pivotal event in her life”—the kind that leaves permanent scars.
The Defense Expert
The defense tried to rebut the idea that Dr. Reading could tell from a single meeting four years after the fact, that losing a $15 per hour job could cause such a calamity.
Dr. Marcel Ponton, the defense’s expert, had also interviewed Duarte once—but a year earlier.
She told him about her job at D.E.L.T.A., about the pain it caused her.
Ponton wasn’t just listening. He was testing.
The MMPI-2 measured depression, anxiety, emotional distress. It also measured deception. Her scores told him what he suspected. “Almost 100 percent certainty of exaggeration,” he said. If the symptoms she described were true, she would be paranoid schizophrenic. But she wasn’t.
No delusions. No hallucinations.
But when he asked about past trauma—nothing. No history of PTSD. No abuse. Nothing to explain the symptoms she was claiming.
He gave her the Beck Depression Inventory. She scored a 20—mild to moderate depression. Not the devastation she described in court.
Then came the records. A March 2020 screening, a month after she was fired. That test showed no sadness, no anger, no trouble sleeping. But that was before the lawsuit.
His conclusion? She was faking.
Closing
Now it was time to make the closing arguments.
Nalbandyan turned to the jury and said, “Grillo is a racist. A sexist.”
He told them Grillo disrespected Martin Luther King Jr., that he was a man who minimized greatness.
“Vicious people cannot resist hurting others,” Nalbandyan said, comparing Grillo to a scorpion.
The jury sat silent. Nalbandyan reached for Christopher Reeve, the paralyzed actor.
“Grillo would say he was faking it, just like he says Duarte was faking.”
Then the videos played again.
The jury heard Grillo’s words:
“Bimbo.” “Obese” “Lettuce picker” and saw Duarte in black weeping.
The defense had an argument too, albeit an incompetent one: She struggled, but not enough to justify the jackpot verdict. No long career lost – just two and half years at a $15-an-hour job. No proof she couldn’t work again. No plans to get help, and even if she did, her own expert said a few months of therapy would be enough.
The Jury Decides
The jury had been asked to assess lost wages, which was based on measurable determinations, and also suffering, distress, loss of dignity, a figure that required no receipts, no calculations – just a feeling.
The jury had their instructions.
If D.E.L.T.A. Rescue had fired Adriana Duarte Valentines for stealing, that was legal.
If they fired her because she was pregnant, that wasn’t.
D.E.L.T.A. Rescue said she didn’t tell them she was pregnant.
She worked with the cats, knowing the risk.
When a friend asked if she was pregnant, she said no.
To them, that was not enough to fire her.
It was not the employer’s decision.
Not their child to raise.
A woman, pregnant or not, had the right to decide her own risks, her own body, her own future.
If Adriana Duarte wanted to work around cat litter, if she wanted to lift heavy bags of food, if the amount she stole justified putting her unborn child at risk – that was her decision.
The jury decided:
Lost wages $16,002.
$180,950 for economic damages for not having a job.
As for pain and suffering: $5.5 million.
A total of $5.7 million.
Then there was the punishment.
$1 million in punitive damages.
A number designed to send a message. D.E.L.T.A. was not just guilty. It was malicious.
The jury’s award? It would take her over a hundred years to earn that much.
A verdict fueled by emotion, by prejudice, by something deeper and older than the law.
The verdict was not about the case – but about Grillo.
Motions
D.E.L.T.A. moved to overturn the verdict. One motion asked the judge to throw it out entirely. Another sought to cut the damages.
D.E.L.T.A.’s lawyers blamed the deposition tapes – played over and over – showing Grillo calling Duarte illiterate, a lettuce picker, linking her to crime.
Judge Escalante had made her views clear before trial. Grillo was a racist.
The defense wanted the whole case tossed.
The judge didn’t buy it.
Grillo fired Duarte while she was in the hospital. A few days before she gave birth. That fact alone, the judge ruled, was enough to call it pregnancy discrimination.
D.E.L.T.A. accused the judge of judicial misconduct.
She had warned Duarte’s lawyers – no theatrics, no using the child to sway the jury. But in court, Duarte’s lead attorney held the girl, hugged her. He wiped away tears. The jury saw it all.
D.E.L.T.A.’s lawyers objected. Said it was inappropriate, manipulative, prejudicial. The judge let it happen anyway.
Judge Falters But Decides
Judge Escalante never addressed the deposition statements that inflamed the jury. Instead, she spent pages justifying the verdict – leaning on what she admitted was weak testimony from Duarte’s psych expert. She focused on Leo Grillo’s conduct, calling his suspicions about Duarte’s theft “deceitful.” But she never put in writing what was clear in court: she believed he was a racist. She kept that out of the record, away from the appellate court and the State Bar.
Her ruling benefited NIAC. The carrier didn’t cover punitive damages—only non-economic damages. By reducing one and leaving the other intact, she shielded NIAC from a bad faith claim. She downplayed the role of the deposition, giving NIAC cover for refusing to settle.
And then, the final twist—her order wasn’t publicly available. Most rulings could be accessed and purchased. This one? Only mailed to attorneys of record.
Judge Escalante’s ruling shielded NIAC. By lowering non-economic damages while keeping punitive damages, she handed the insurer a legal out. NIAC could argue it had no duty to pay beyond policy limits.
Judge Escalante’s ruling was 34 pages – notable for what it left out.
Nowhere did it address Grillo’s deposition videos. Nowhere did it touch on accusations of bias. Nowhere did it acknowledge the theatrics of Nalbandyan, parading the child in front of the jury.
Escalante reduced the non-economic damages, from $5.5 million to $1.7 million, a number pulled from the air. The punitive damages stood untouched.
The rulings functioned as a shield—protecting Judge Escalante’s handling of the case.
The judge had cut the damages, but only the ones that mattered to the insurance company, NIAC.
The punitive award, that fell squarely on D.E.L.T.A. remained untouched.
The ruling allowed NIAC to slip through the cracks.
D.E.L.T.A.’s insurance provider had played a game – stalling, denying, evading responsibility.
Judge Escalante needed something to reinforce the decision.
She did not state the reason for her ill will. She didn’t want it written in ink.
She didn’t want that exposed. Not to the appellate court. Not to the State Bar. Not for public record.
Instead, she buried it beneath legalese and procedural justifications, hoping no one would notice the spaces where the truth should have been.
If NIAC had acted in bad faith, if it had refused a reasonable settlement offer, it could be responsible for the full verdict, beyond policy limits.
Escalante’s ruling gave them cover.
With non-economic damages cut, NIAC’s liability shrank.
The judge’s ruling gave them an out – a shield against a bad faith claim. They had let the trial happen.
By downplaying Grillo’s deposition video, she handed NIAC an excuse.
A way to argue they weren’t at fault for refusing to settle.
Duarte could take the cut – drop her non-economic damages. Walk away with $3 million.
Final
On February 19, Nalbandyan accepted the trial court’s remittitur.
D.E.L.T.A. plans to appeal by the March 21 deadline.
For 45 years, Leo Grillo had saved thousands of abandoned animals. He built a sanctuary atop a California mountain, caring for the creatures no one else wanted.
D.E.L.T.A. Rescue still stands, above Los Angeles, where forgotten animals live out their lives in quiet safety. But Grillo is no longer just their caretaker – he is a cautionary tale.
He built a kingdom of mercy, and the law came for him anyway. A judge with an agenda. A jury that never saw him as a man. An insurance company that ran when it mattered.
And a cruel and dishonest woman, an illegal immigrant, who came to this country to take and not give, who became a criminal, an opportunist, a woman who came with nothing—and left with everything.
Although she has not got it yet. And the appellate court, or maybe ICE of the DOJ may yet decide to bring justice so elusive in Judge Escalante’s courtroom to come down like a bolt from the blue or an avalanche pacifying none.
