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A Time to Stand

Page 31

by Robert Whitlow


  Adisa smiled and shook her head. Her sister could effortlessly transition from the divine to the ridiculous in a matter of seconds.

  “Thanks,” Adisa said, giving Shanika another quick hug.

  “And keep me in the loop,” Shanika added. “I don’t want to have to beat news out of you.”

  “Or pull my hair.”

  “Exactly.”

  When Adisa arrived at the law office, she saw Luke’s truck parked in front of the building.

  THIRTY

  UNABLE TO SLEEP as he thought about being in court the following morning, Luke got up at 5:00 a.m. and sat in the kitchen drinking coffee until Jane, bleary-eyed, joined him. They sat together in silence.

  “Don’t give up hope,” Jane said after a big yawn. “The sermon yesterday about Daniel in the lions’ den was exactly what I needed to hear.”

  The minister’s message hit Luke squarely between the eyes, but he hadn’t been able to absorb it as easily as Jane did. He hoped an angel would show up to rescue him, but his faith wavered.

  When Luke arrived at the law office, the front door was still locked and he rang the bell. A few seconds later, a man he didn’t recognize opened the door with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “I’m Officer Luke Nelson,” Luke began.

  “Sure, come inside. I’m Mike Williams, one of the other lawyers in the firm. You can sit in the conference room until Theo arrives. Your arraignment is this morning, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Luke followed the lawyer to the room where he and Jane had met with Mr. Grayson and Ms. Johnson.

  “Would you like some water?” Williams asked. “No one has brewed a pot of coffee.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “I’m glad Theo convinced Adisa to join the firm. She’s a very talented young attorney.”

  “She seems to be.”

  “They’ll be with you shortly.”

  Williams closed the door and left him alone. Luke divided his time between nervously looking at his phone, getting up to roam around the conference room, returning to his phone, and staring at the portraits of the firm patriarchs on the wall. Per instructions from Mr. Grayson, Luke was wearing a pair of gray slacks, a white shirt, and a tie with a blazer. He’d nicked himself badly in the neck while shaving, and though the blood no longer flowed, he sported an inflamed, irritated patch of skin that felt like it was the size of an interstate billboard. He stepped down the hallway to the restroom and checked himself in the mirror. As he looked into his eyes, he didn’t see a man who would maliciously shoot an unarmed teenager of any color. Instead, he saw a man who’d made a reasonable, professional choice under difficult circumstances. Steeled with resolve, he returned to the conference room. Finally, there was a light tap on the door and Adisa Johnson entered.

  “How long have you been here?” the female lawyer asked.

  “Oh, maybe an hour,” Luke replied.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” Adisa nodded. “I understand, but as you know, the arraignment today is going to be routine. You’re not going to have to say anything except ‘Not guilty.’ Mr. Grayson will be here shortly, but he wanted me to outline what we’ve done about locating expert witnesses for the case.”

  Luke tried to follow Adisa’s explanation. He understood the reasoning for each expert, but the multiple names she tossed into the mix became confusing.

  “Dr. Briscoe is what kind of expert?” Luke asked. “Forensic evidence?”

  “No, police conduct. She trains those who train officers.”

  “And she believes I did the right thing?”

  “Don’t jump ahead. She didn’t render an opinion. We’ll have to pay for that, but she didn’t cut me off when I mentioned the basic facts.”

  “How much will that cost?”

  “There are stages of expense. It begins with a charge to conduct a file review, followed by consultation, preparation of a written report, and finally testimony in court. I’ve put together a rough estimate of what you’re looking at, but remember, this could change a lot based on what the best available people cost.”

  Adisa slid a sheet of paper across the table to Luke, whose eyes widened when he saw the bottom-line figure. The door to the conference room opened, and Theo Grayson entered with two cups of coffee in his hands.

  “Good morning,” he said. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late.”

  Grayson placed one of the cups in front of Luke. “You prefer it black, don’t you?” the lawyer asked.

  “Yes, sir. Thanks.”

  Luke took a sip of coffee. It was the same expensive blend he’d sampled the first time he met the older lawyer.

  “Adisa filled me in on what happened at your house over the weekend,” Grayson said. “I’m very sorry your family was endangered and thankful they’re okay.”

  “It’s been rough,” Luke replied. “But Jane has been a trouper.”

  “I’ve been going over with Luke where we are in identifying expert witnesses,” Adisa said, pointing to the piece of paper she’d just given him.

  “And that’s enough for a down payment on a nice house,” the officer said, placing the coffee on a coaster.

  “Let me take a look,” Grayson said as he sat down beside Adisa and read what she’d prepared.

  “That’s accurate,” Grayson said when he finished. “Maybe even a bit on the conservative side.”

  “Conservative or liberal, there’s no way I can ask my mother-in-law to come up with that kind of money,” Luke answered. “We’ll have to go with who we can find locally. One of my instructors at the community college was a retired sheriff from Banks County. I haven’t called him since this happened, but I believe he’d be willing to testify for me. He taught one of my criminal justice classes.”

  “He might be a fine witness,” Grayson said. “But Adisa and I want people who won’t wilt under pressure. Please talk it over with Jane. She seemed confident that your mother-in-law would step up and help. We’re not asking that she pay us, only that she let us find the best tools out there to build a solid defense.”

  Luke knew that if Jane were sitting beside him, she would volunteer her mother’s bank account. “I haven’t discussed any specific dollar amount with her,” he said slowly.

  “Which is why I prepared this for you,” Adisa answered. “Show it to Jane. Talk it over with your mother-in-law, and let us know what she’s willing to do. We only want to spend money if we believe it’s going to make a difference.”

  “And we’re under pressure from Judge Andrews to identify who we may call as witnesses,” Grayson said. “We don’t have to let him know specific people this morning. That would be unreasonable, but we need to tell him we’re diligently moving forward in the process.”

  “Okay,” Luke replied with a shrug. “But if this turns out to be a huge waste of money—”

  “It will be money spent by someone who cares about you,” Grayson said. “But that’s not the issue this morning. You’ve attended criminal arraignments in the past, but it’s different when you’re the person in the spotlight.”

  “There’s one other thing I need to mention,” Adisa added. “It has to do with Deshaun Hamlin’s medical status.”

  “What is it?” Grayson asked quickly. “Is he worse?”

  “No, better. He opened his eyes and asked for a drink of water.”

  Hearing the news sent a shock wave through Luke. Although he’d tried to imagine how he would feel if the black teenager either died or improved, nothing had prepared him for what he felt in that instant. Massive relief was quickly replaced by intense fear. He saw Adisa watching his face.

  “What are you thinking, Luke?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he began. “I mean, I’m glad he’s coming out of the coma, but I’m worried about what he might say and how it’s going to impact me.”

  “That’s the way it hit me when I heard the news yesterday morning in church,” Adisa responded. “It also means another type of expert may be nec
essary, someone who can run what’s called neuropsychological testing on Deshaun.”

  “He’ll have to improve for that to reveal much beyond what the treating doctors can tell us,” Grayson said.

  “True,” Adisa said. “But it needs to be brought up with the judge.”

  “And you’re sure this is true about his improvement?” Grayson asked. “I’d hate to make a representation to the court that turned out to be false.”

  “It came from the mouth of his pastor with the grandmother sitting in the sanctuary.”

  “Okay,” Grayson said.

  “There’s one other thing,” Adisa said, clearing her throat.

  She told them about her encounter with Sharon Rogers from the Atlanta newspaper.

  “She said she was going to be at the courthouse,” Adisa said. “And we all know a lot of people in Campbellton subscribe to the AJC or read it online.”

  “Point her out and leave her to me,” Grayson said and then spoke to Luke. “All you need to do this morning is say, ‘Not guilty.’ And say it like you mean it. People will be watching and listening.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Adisa and I need to get a few things together before we step across the street. Would you like to wait in here?”

  “Yes,” Luke said. “The fewer people I see, the better.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t say something to him about the beef jerky?” Grayson asked as soon as he and Adisa were alone in the hallway.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I know it was on the list of items found in Deshaun’s pockets on the night of the shooting, but I hate bringing up matters in court when I don’t have a basis to do so. It smacks of bad faith.”

  “And Maxwell didn’t tell me anything beyond it being ‘bad jerky.’”

  Grayson paused for a moment. “Let’s throw it out there and argue that the package may contain some form of contraband,” he said with a shrug. “The worst thing that can happen is getting chewed out by the judge. It won’t be the first or the last time that happens. Prepare a motion for the State to produce it and a proposed order. I’ll head over there with Luke.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Adisa returned to her office and quickly typed the motion and order herself. Inside the courthouse, she stopped by the clerk’s office to obtain stamped copies for delivery to Jasper Baldwin and the judge.

  When she entered through the rear of the courtroom, Adisa was shocked by the number of people packed into the right-hand side of the large room. Almost all of those present were black. Then she realized what she should have anticipated. People had come out in force to observe every second of Luke’s case. Standing against the wall, she tried to identify anyone she knew by studying the backs of their heads. It was tough to do, but she thought she saw Reggie seated toward the front. She was troubled that he hadn’t mentioned anything after church but immediately pushed the thought to the side. He had as much right to be there as she did.

  Not looking to the right, Adisa walked down the aisle. As she passed, she heard murmuring but couldn’t make out what was said. Grayson and Luke were sitting on the other side of the wooden railing that separated the spectators from the lawyers and their clients. Jasper Baldwin and a young woman who Adisa assumed was a paralegal or an assistant district attorney sat at one table. Judge Andrews had not yet taken his place on the bench.

  Adisa quickly spotted Jamie Standard from the local newspaper. Sitting beside her was Sharon Rogers from the AJC. The Atlanta reporter made brief eye contact with Adisa before looking away. Adisa inwardly steeled herself for the personal interaction she knew would take place between them at some point during the morning. This time she resolved not to lose her cool.

  “All rise!” the bailiff called out.

  Everyone in the courtroom stood as Judge Andrews entered from a small door to the side of the raised bench.

  “The Superior Court of Nash County is now in session,” the bailiff continued. “Honorable Malcomb Andrews presiding.”

  “Be seated,” the judge said.

  THIRTY-ONE

  ADISA SLIPPED THROUGH the opening in the railing and joined Grayson and Luke. From her place at the front of the courtroom, she began to identify some of the members of the black community who’d come out in such impressive numbers. Reggie was in the front row with Thelma Armistead beside him.

  “Mr. Baldwin,” the judge said, turning toward the DA. “Call your first case on the calendar.”

  Adisa leaned over to Grayson. “Where are we on the calendar?” she whispered.

  “Last case.”

  “Last!” Adisa was so jumpy she had trouble keeping her voice low. “Why?”

  “Any number of reasons,” Grayson replied, keeping his eyes on Judge Andrews. “I’m guessing the judge wants to thin out the crowd, but I don’t think that’s going to work. Do you recognize anyone?”

  “Yes. The woman in the dark-green dress is Deshaun’s grandmother. The man beside her is the pastor of her church. There are others I know, but I don’t want to attract attention by staring at them.”

  “I understand. Why don’t you scoot your chair at an angle so you’re facing the bench?”

  Adisa did as Grayson suggested, but the move felt unnatural. She knew her every twitch was being scrutinized. She’d never felt so exposed and vulnerable. She coughed lightly into her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke shifting nervously in his chair. Multiple deputy sheriffs were present to provide extra law enforcement.

  Judge Andrews, Jasper Baldwin, and the assistant DA moved efficiently through the calendar. The defense lawyers rose, called their clients forward, and conducted their business in the open area in front of the bench. It was a hodgepodge of arraignments, revocation of bond motions, bench warrant requests for defendants who’d failed to show up in court, and sentencing for those pleading guilty. Several people came forward and entered guilty pleas on drug-related charges. Apparently, the manufacture and sale of crystal meth was an active criminal enterprise in Nash County. The devastated appearance of the women defendants and the cruelty of their addiction made Adisa forget her own sense of vulnerability for a few moments. The women all received probated sentences that included a treatment plan except for one repeat offender/dealer who was given a five-year jail sentence.

  “I busted her one time,” Luke said, leaning over to Adisa. “She tried to cut one of the other officers with a kitchen knife but didn’t remember it the following morning.”

  As the calendar progressed, the number of defense lawyers in the courtroom thinned. Adisa’s anticipation increased.

  “State v. Mooney,” the judge announced. “Motion to suppress.”

  Mooney was a landlord charged with possession of stolen goods stored in an apartment he owned. His attorney contended the individual who opened the door and allowed the police to enter didn’t have the right to be in the apartment and thus lacked authority to consent to a search. Five witnesses testified. As the testimony dragged on, Adisa saw both reporters leave the courtroom, and the crowd with Reggie began to thin out as people who’d taken time off from work had to leave.

  When the final witness in State v. Mooney left the stand, the lawyers gave their brief closing arguments to the judge. Judge Andrews repositioned his glasses and stared at Jasper Baldwin for several seconds. The DA seemed nervous. Based on what she remembered about Fourth Amendment law, Adisa suspected Judge Andrews would grant the motion and exclude the evidence.

  “Motion denied,” the judge said. “Mr. Baldwin, prepare an order. I also strongly urge the lawyers to consult and discuss whether the defendant wants to proceed to trial or change his plea.”

  The defense lawyer and Baldwin quickly huddled.

  “What’s going on?” Adisa asked Grayson.

  “The judge knows he was on shaky ground in denying the motion and now wants the DA to offer the defendant a sweet deal to plead guilty.”

  Adisa wasn’t used to such a high
level of manipulation by judges. Theo Grayson was right about differences in rural and urban justice.

  The lawyers separated.

  “My client wishes to change his plea to guilty,” the defense lawyer said.

  “And the State has a recommendation for sentence, Your Honor,” Baldwin replied.

  It took another five minutes to wrap up the case.

  “Court will be in recess for fifteen minutes,” the judge said.

  “All rise!” the bailiff called out.

  Everyone stood as the judge left the courtroom.

  “I’m heading to the men’s room,” Grayson said, turning to Adisa.

  Luke and Grayson left Adisa alone. She watched them walk up the aisle to the rear of the courtroom. The aggressive looks people gave them as they passed made Adisa shudder. She couldn’t run that gauntlet. Reggie left the group around Sister Armistead and came over to the railing.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “I’m not sure about that,” Adisa replied, shaking her head. “And are you sure you should be seen talking to me?”

  Reggie glanced over his shoulder. Several people were watching them.

  “I’ll tell people I was trying to convince you to repent,” Reggie replied.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “It’s the best I can do. I’m resigned to the fact that we’re on different sides of the case, and I’ll have to accept the criticism that comes because I’m blind when it comes to you.”

  Adisa quickly caught her breath. Beneath his reply was the phrase “Love is blind.” But now wasn’t the time to allow herself to dwell on Reggie’s subliminal message.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “We’ll talk later, but not here.”

  Adisa saw the two newspaper reporters returning to the front of the courtroom.

  “I’ll call you,” Reggie replied, moving away.

  Adisa approached the bailiff. “Is there a private ladies’ restroom?” she asked.

 

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