Standing by her man in court

By J. Patrick Coolican

Sunday, April 16, 2006 | 7:31 a.m.

Through all the sleazy details, the alleged sexual favors and the envelopes of cash, the bumbling strip club tycoon and the ex-stripper's tearful testimony, there she is, the most striking woman in the courtroom: Emily Herrera.

She is tall and lithesome, conservatively dressed, her beauty organic and her look prosperous, a conspicuous contrast from the cheap and plastic glamour of the strippers the government says were used to bribe her husband, former Clark County Commissioner Dario Herrera.

She would seem to be a valuable ally in her husband's defense, but what will the jury think of a woman who stuck by a man accused of corruption and licentiousness?

They will determine the future for Herrera and former Clark County Commissioner Mary Kincaid-Chauncey, both accused of accepting cash and gifts in exchange for favorable treatment for Michael Galardi, who owned Las Vegas strip clubs and is cooperating with the government. (Erin Kenny, also a former commissioner, has already pleaded guilty.)

Trial consultants say juries don't just sit in judgment of the accused, however. The jury also undoubtedly notices Emily Herrera, and she may elicit great sympathy as a woman first wronged by her husband and now by the government. That sympathy might then extend to her husband. Her continued presence also indicates she's forgiven him, and if she can, why can't you?

Her daily appearance, especially through the seediest parts of the trial, is not without risk, though, the consultants said. If jurors have formed a negative impression of Dario Herrera early on, they might believe they're seeing a devious man who couldn't control his adolescent sexual appetites and is now using his wife to manipulate the jury.

"You don't know which way the jurors are going to go," said Paul Lisnek, who heads Decision Analysis, a trial consulting firm in Chicago and Los Angeles.

"If the two of them stand as a very strong unit together, if they look good together, suddenly it's not about him against her, it's them against the world. And the image is, look at his wife. Look at his family. He'd never do it, and then, how could the government put them through this?"

Trial consultants interviewed all said they would have advised Emily Herrera to be at the trial every day, even during testimony that has at times bordered on obscene. But they concede that the tactic poses a risk.

Some jurors "might think he's all the more despicable for dragging his wife through this," said Beth Bonora, a San Francisco trial consultant who advised the U.S. Justice Department on its prosecution of the police officers who beat Rodney King.

Different jurors will react differently depending on their age, ethnicity and gender, jury consultants said.

Older jurors, Hispanics and jurors with traditional religious values would appreciate that Herrera is married and that he remains married, said Beth Foley, a trial consultant with the Chicago firm Zagnoli, McEvoy and Foley. But the trial's unseemly details could then raise the ire of those same jurors, she said.

"I think women on the jury might be saying, 'You schmuck, how did you give her up like that?' " said Dr. Jo-Ellan Dimitrius of Dimitrius & Associates, a Pasadena, Calif., trial consulting firm.

Further, they relate to her experience, Dimitrius said. "Women tend to look at their own experience and ask themselves if they've faced a situation like this, a boyfriend who's cheated on me, a husband who's cheated on me. 'I may not have been able to stop that, but I can stop this,' they might say."

All of these risks - that Herrera is seen as manipulating his wife and betraying common decency - are greatest while Emily sits for the trial's most prurient moments, of which there have been many.

Nevertheless, "I think she's got to sit through it," Foley said. "Otherwise, she appears to be in the dark, like, maybe he's lying to her. She's got to be there with the jurors, and hold her head high, and stand close to his side."

That's precisely what Emily Herrera, who declined requests for an interview, has done, leaving only after the afternoon break to take care of their children, Cruz, 5, and Ella, 2.

She is usually composed in the courtroom, though her foot sometimes nervously bobs, and there's an occasional scowl for Daniel Schiess, the assistant U.S. attorney leading the case.

Emily Herrera comes from a long line of women who have endured public scrutiny for the sake of their husband's judicial or political well-being following alleged infidelity.

Few who saw it will forget Hillary Clinton sitting next to Bill on "60 Minutes" as he acknowledged "problems" in their marriage. Later, after the Monica Lewinsky story broke, she appeared on the "Today" show to decry the "vast right-wing conspiracy" that was after her husband.

Once President Clinton acknowledged the affair with Lewinsky, however, the two were rarely seen together in public.

Most similar to Emily Herrera's situation, though, is probably that of the wife of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, Virginia Lamp Thomas, who stood by him as he was accused by Anita Hill of sexually harassing her with lewd suggestions in the workplace.

The question arises, why? Why expose yourself to the snickering, the prying eyes, the media machine, especially for a man who has publicly betrayed you?

She loves her husband and has forgiven him, said Emily Herrera's younger sister, Jinny Hinckley , who lives in Las Vegas and attends the trial once a week. "My mother says she never knew she raised such a forgiving daughter."

The Herreras say they've come to believe deeply in the Mormon faith. A church Web site notes, "Families can falter and even fail. Yet happiness in a family is often possible even when heartache comes."

The couple appears to have reconciled after a brief 2001 separation and what must have been a trying period afterward, as Herrera lost his 2002 race for Congress following a brutally negative campaign, and was then indicted. They express warmth toward each other in and around the courtroom.

Those who know her say Emily is a forceful personality, just the type to withstand the emotional onslaught of this trial.

"Any other woman in this situation couldn't do this. I couldn't do it," Hinckley said.

Emily Herrera, 32, was born to a prominent Mormon family. Her maiden name was Emily McCann, and she was the fourth of seven children. She has been on her own since she was 19, and has her own real estate development company. After she moved to Las Vegas, five of her siblings followed her as though she was the Pied Piper, Hinckley said.

"She's strong and supportive, and she doesn't lean on anyone. I'm amazed she's been able to get through this, and people say that to her all the time, that she's amazing."