Two possibilities: Either a grudge against anyone wearing red led to misdirected murder, or a group of wannabe crime bosses framed their gangster buddies in exchange for short time in prison.
Whatever the truth, Camille Love is still dead, fatally shot Feb. 7, 2010, on Portland Avenue in Tacoma.
Love, 20, an aspiring veterinary technician, was killed when members of the Eastside Lokote Surenos gang opened fire on her car. Her brother Josh, then 19, was wounded.
Pierce County prosecutors have charged five ELS members with murder and conspiracy charges connected to Love’s slaying. It’s one part of a larger crackdown that charged 19 gang members in connection with three homicides.
Opening arguments in the trail connected to Camille Love started Monday. The process was complicated.
One prosecutor, Greg Greer, spoke for the state, followed by four defense attorneys representing four clients: Saul Mex (the alleged shooter), Eduardo Sandoval (an alleged lookout), Time Time (another alleged lookout) and Jarrod Messer (the alleged driver).
According to Greer, the Love shooting was pure retaliation: An ELS member had been shot a few days earlier and other members blamed rival gangs tied to the Bloods, known for red colors.
The ELS leader, Juan Zuniga, ordered a response, prosecutors say. There was no specific target – any Blood would do. The gangsters had a plan to get away clean: steal a car from Federal Way, use it in the shooting, ditch it and burn it. They called the stolen vehicle the “G-ride.”
On the day of the shooting, Camille Love drove a red car. Her brother Josh wore a red coat. That was enough to get her killed and her brother shot, Greer said in his opening statement.
“Because she drove a red car and because he wore a red jacket,” he said.
The defense attorneys responded with counter-statements.
Edward Jursek, representing Messer, said his client was innocent. The state had the wrong guy. The key witness, Josh Love, had pegged someone else as the driver at first, and backed off his account after police said they had a better suspect.
Stephen Johnson, representing Sandoval, said his client was innocent. Sandoval stayed with a friend the day of the shooting, smoking dope, watching the Super Bowl and making two trips to McDonald’s.
“He did not shoot a gun,” Johnson said. “He did not drive a van. He did not plan any shooting.”
Les Tolzin, representing Time, said his client was innocent. Tolzin pointed to a conspiracy. The prosecution would lean heavily on three key witnesses: all ELS members, all charged with the murder of their leader, Juan Zuniga, last May. The three witnesses had agreed to testify in exchange for shorter sentences.
Kent Underwood, representing Mex, the alleged shooter in the Love slaying, said his client was innocent. Mex wasn’t there, Underwood said, and echoed Tolzin’s argument about the quality of prosecution witnesses.
“It may be a little dull,” Underwood said. “But it’s going to be quite important, because that is where all the evidence originates. The statements are unreliable, self-serving and are not accurate.”
The five opening statements set the stage for the big witness of the day: Josh Love. Five lawyers meant a long wait. Love yawned a little as he took the stand.
Guided by Greer, Love recalled the day of the shooting. He’d seen a white van pull up beside his sister’s car. The driver had given a dirty look. Josh gave a dirty look back.
“Our light turned green, then we started going down Portland Avenue,” Love said. “The van was still following us, creeping behind us.”
The van came up to the passenger. Josh’s window shattered. He tried to jump in the back seat, got stuck. He felt a blow near his hip.
He’d been shot twice: once in the arm, once in the side. Greer handed him a sealed brown paper package. It was evidence: the red coat he had worn that day.
Camille’s car had drifted toward the sidewalk. Josh righted it. It drifted toward oncoming traffic. He righted it again, pulled the brake, turned on the hazard lights. He didn’t realize what had happened to his sister.
Love had been a gangster of sorts when he was younger, he said, but it was mostly posing. He knew others who were deeper in the life. One came to him at candlelight vigil for Camille a few days after the shooting, and handed him a napkin with three street names written on it.
“What was the significance of that napkin?” Greer asked.
“Uh, I thought it was the names of the people that shot me and killed my sister,” Love said.
“Who thought that?”
“I thought that.”
“Did you accept that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just cause I wanted to know who did it so bad.”
Sean Robinson: 253-597-8486
sean.robinson@thenewstribune.com
