At 10 a.m. Friday the jury communicated for the first time from behind closed doors.

     Eight and half hours later the jury had sent out six notes, but still no verdict. They asked for everything from extra highlighters to court transcripts of specific testimony. They requested a closer look at the defense's cross-examination of Danny Rocha, the government's star witness and Blackthorne's former golfing partner.

     Apparently they specifically wanted a better understanding of the lies Danny Rocha admitted to telling as recently as a year ago. Juror Johnie Blea, a San Antonio letter carrier, asked the question.

      Then they wanted the three videos that were copies of local news coverage of Sheila Bellush's one-time arrest on child abuse charges, one detailing her move to Florida and one that was a compilation of the two that Allen Blackthorne made to send to Bellush's Sarasota neighbors and her husbands boss in an effort to discredit the family.

     Forty-five-year old Blackthorne faces federal murder charges in connection with the 1997 killing of Bellush, his ex-wife.

     The jury went one step further when it sent out a note saying, "We would like a statement made by Virginia, the secretary (Blackthorne's former secretary), about the address on the videotapes who did the address belong to as said by the secretary." They misspelled the word "address." Judge Ed Prado had to decide how to answer. He joked with attorneys, "I should say rely on your memory or your question makes no sense." A collective laugh rippled through the courtroom. Prado advised them to rely on their memories.

      If the jury tells the judge they are in conflict he can give them transcripts or clearer answers, but until that time he can merely tell them to count on their own recollection of the nearly three weeks of testimony.

      Those of us in the crowd brave enough to speculate what this latest question meant decided the jury wanted to know if Rocha walked into the office and the Bellush family's Sarasota address was sitting on top of the tapes so he could have seen it and therefore orchestrated "the hit" without help from Blackthorne.

      I think that seems like a stretch for the jury to assume, but it was a sign that they were working hard to understand all the nuances of the case.

     Defense attorneys, who left the day before looking down, rebounded with a slight spring in their step. It did seem like a good sign for Blackthorne. But Maureen Blackthorne quickly pointed out, "I'm not getting my hopes up."

     The third floor of San Antonio's federal courthouse slowly filled with anxious spectators, media and family members waiting for closure. Prado waved the rule barring cell phone usage inside the courthouse and the normally quiet hallway suddenly burst to life with the sound of ringing phones.

     Finally Bellush's mother, Gene Smith, decided she couldn't take it anymore. She had sat in a wooden chair for nearly eight hours hoping this latest legal journey would soon come to an end. She looked at me as she pressed the elevator button and with tears in her eyes she announced "it finally got to me, I have to go home."

     Jurors took the weekend off. They resume deliberations on Monday but don't face any pressure to finish before the fourth of July because Judge Prado gave them that day off too. The wait may be far from over.