The War on La Familia

Prosecutors had an interpreter read transcripts of taped phone conversations that Perez made in jail. The teenager spoke often with his mother, discussing the evidence against him and worrying that the testimony against him was strong. In a phone call on December 21, Perez told his mother that praying didn't ease his mind anymore.

"Are you guilty?" his mother asked.

"Of course, yes," he responded.

Perez didn't take the stand, and he didn't respond to The Pitch's request for an interview. After three days of testimony, it took the jury just four hours to find Perez guilty of first-degree murder. Last week, Judge John McNally sentenced Perez to life in prison with no possibility of parole for 20 years.

During a stormy week in April, Franco sat in the same chilly courtroom facing charges of first-degree murder. Prosecutor Michael Russell argued to the jury that Franco was just as guilty of murder as Perez because he gave the order and then helped plan the shooting.

Franco was dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants. His long black hair was neatly slicked back. Unlike Perez, with his empty stare, Franco looked scared as he surveyed the courtroom with tired eyes.

Gonzalez again recounted the events leading to the shooting. This time, he seemed more anxious. His legs bounced nervously. He looked more frequently toward the defendant's table. After nearly an hour of questioning by the prosecutor, Gonzalez rubbed his face, as if on the verge of tears. Franco stared straight ahead.

William Dunn, Franco's attorney, questioned Gonzalez's story. On July 19, Gonzalez told police it was Franco who went on the dry run. In a September 6 statement, he said it was Hernandez. Dunn argued that the discrepancy should make jurors wary of Gonzalez's account.

When Cisneros took the stand, he surprised prosecutors by becoming uncooperative. Cisneros pulled out a small piece of paper and read, "With all due respect to Mr. Russell and the court, I refuse to testify on José Franco until the safety of my family can be assured."

Judge McNally told Cisneros that he had no right to refuse to testify. He wasn't being charged in the case; if he kept quiet, he'd be held in contempt. Cisneros said he understood the consequences but still refused to talk.

Dunn didn't call any witnesses. He didn't have to, he argued in his closing statements. No physical evidence connected Franco to the crime. The only person linking Franco to the shooting was Gonzalez, a guy who rolled on his lifelong friend and changed his story in police statements, Dunn said. A guy who got a sweet deal in exchange for testifying, he added.

"You cannot convict on that kind of witness," Dunn continued in closing statements. "You've got a jailhouse snitch. That's it."

As the jury filed out, Franco looked each of them in the eyes. Before lunch, the count was 9-3 in favor of conviction. The sticking point was Gonzalez's credibility, whether his story could be trusted. After lunch, one juror still wasn't convinced. At 3:30 p.m., the jury told McNally they were deadlocked. The judge declared a mistrial.

Russell assured the Guzmáns that the case would be retried. But sitting through a trial gets harder each time, Fernando says. Twice, he and Ramona had to look at photos of the house, lit up like a skeleton in the eerie glow of the police lights that night. Twice, they listened to the coroner describe Yelena's wounds and saw images from her autopsy.

Fernando says it is striking to see such young kids sitting there in the defendant's chair. But he doesn't feel any sympathy. The teenagers, he says, have never tried to show him that they were sorry.

A month after Yelena's death, Ramona found out she was pregnant. She gave birth to Fernando Jr. on January 11. The couple doesn't want him to grow up surrounded by the kind of gang violence that cut short his sister's life, so they're considering leaving Kansas City, Kansas.