A Time to Stand

by Robert Whitlow

Grayson shook his head. “No. Even when we have something good to pass along, I’m not going to establish a precedent of trying our case in the press. It will come out in a couple of days when Baldwin files his responses under the criminal discovery statute.”

  Adisa returned to her office, pulled up the subpoena for Deshaun’s medical records, and made the necessary changes. Printing it off, she drove to the hospital. On the way, she remembered the missed call from Reggie.

  “Sorry. I was about to walk into the courthouse when you called,” she said when the minister answered.

  “That’s okay, but I wanted to let you know that I’m definitely in the middle of a fiery controversy here at the church. I’m not so naive to believe everyone likes me, but when a mistake like this happens, the matches and kindling come out. The deacons are interviewing people to gauge their reactions before scheduling a meeting with me.”

  “That sounds like an open invitation to gossip and slander!”

  “It all depends on who’s talking and how it’s characterized. Some folks label it leadership accountability.”

  Adisa felt sick to her stomach. “I wish there was something I could do,” she said.

  “Pray. And I’m still going to take time to talk to your aunt and Simone. Anything going on with you that you can tell me about?”

  Even if she could, Adisa didn’t want to tell Reggie the latest sad news about Deshaun. But thoughts of the young man prompted a different question.

  “Just keeping my head down and working,” she replied. “How is Deshaun? Has he said anything else?”

  “I’m on my way to the hospital now to meet Sister Armistead in the lobby,” Reggie said. “From what I’ve heard, she still supports me, but I’m about to find out pretty quickly for myself.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  STILL ON THE phone with Reggie, Adisa turned into the hospital parking lot and saw the minister park his car in the area reserved for clergy.

  “Don’t nick that white Lexus,” she said. “Who does that belong to?”

  “Where are you?” Reggie asked.

  “A couple of rows over, but I’ll sit in the car so we won’t be seen together.”

  Adisa watched as Reggie, his phone to his ear, looked in her direction. He waved when he saw her. She waved back. They ended the call. Reggie passed through the sliding glass doors. Adisa waited for a couple of minutes before following him. The records department was at the rear of the first floor. She handed the subpoena to a bored-looking young man whose expression didn’t change as he read it.

  “When was the patient discharged from the hospital?” he asked.

  “He’s still here,” Adisa replied.

  “Then you won’t receive a complete set of records,” the young man replied.

  “I understand, but I want what’s available now.”

  “The copy service comes in at ten o’clock at night. It will be quicker if they burn a disc.”

  “A disc is fine.” Adisa hadn’t removed the request for the bullet from the subpoena, and she’d added a demand for actual blood samples.

  “What about blood samples taken from the patient?” she asked. “Are they still at the lab?”

  “We’ll have to check with the pathology department about those,” the man replied. “They’re usually discarded after a week to ten days unless there’s a reason to keep them. If preserved, they’re frozen, and we don’t allow them to leave the hospital.”

  “You will if the judge orders you to,” Adisa replied evenly. “And what about the bullet removed from the patient’s brain during surgery? The subpoena covers that, too.”

  The young man’s eyes opened wider. “I didn’t see that,” he replied.

  “That’s why I brought it up. Can you find out if it was saved and who has custody of it?”

  “Let me talk to my supervisor,” the young man said.

  He left Adisa standing alone at the counter for over ten minutes. When he returned, an older black woman was with him. She was holding the subpoena in her right hand.

  “Ms. Johnson?” the woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And what is your role in this case?”

  “I’m one of the lawyers representing the police officer who shot the patient.”

  The woman eyed Adisa for a moment and then cleared her throat. “All physical property of the patient and anything removed during surgery was handed over to the police department. All we have are medical records.”

  “And blood samples. Were they discarded or frozen?”

  “Given the circumstances of the patient’s admission, they may have been retained.”

  “I hope so,” Adisa answered. “How soon can I expect to hear from you? Also, who would be the person to verify that the records are complete to date?”

  “Within forty-eight hours, maybe sooner. We’ll send you a link to a portal where you can access them. Any of the three supervisors in our department can verify what you receive.” The woman opened a drawer beneath the counter and handed a card to Adisa. “But Josh Kilian usually handles court-related inquiries.”

  “Thanks.”

  Adisa took the card, but instead of immediately leaving the hospital, she went to the second floor to see the nursing staff who’d taken care of Aunt Josie. It was great to be able to share positive news about her aunt’s continued improvement. Returning to the elevator, Adisa very much wanted to check on Deshaun, but after the drama at the courthouse, she knew she couldn’t.

  Luke was sitting in the parking lot of the shooting range when he received the call from Theo Grayson about the presence of black tar heroin in the package of beef jerky. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Can I tell Jane? She’s been praying that anything hidden in darkness will be uncovered.”

  “Only if you’re sure she won’t repeat it to anyone, and I mean anyone,” the lawyer replied.

  “I understand, but thanks for telling me immediately. I’ve been persecuted ever since this happened, and even if no one else believed me, I knew there was something wrong with Hamlin. I felt threatened, and now there’s a reason why that makes sense.”

  “We don’t know that he had any drugs in his system.”

  In the rush of news, Luke had jumped to the conclusion that Hamlin was under the influence of an illegal drug.

  “But even if his blood was clean, there’s no good reason for someone to carry around a bag containing black tar heroin,” Luke replied.

  “Correct, and the more we can make the case about what Deshaun was doing wrong, the easier it is to create justification for how you responded.”

  “Right, right,” Luke said. “I’m sure they tested his blood at the hospital.”

  “Adisa is serving a subpoena to obtain the records, and we’ll let you know as soon as we receive the results. We may test the material in the package ourselves.”

  “Why? Won’t that be a waste of money?”

  “Anything we do that doesn’t provide information we can use in your defense will be considered a waste of money in hindsight. But I’m not completely comfortable relying on what the police department and the DA’s office tell me.”

  As a police officer, Luke knew Grayson’s comment would have offended him prior to the shooting on Nixon Street. Now he understood the lawyer’s concern.

  “Okay. Do what you think is best. How are you going to publicize the presence of drugs on Hamlin at the time of the shooting?”

  “We’re still working through that. It may be best for the DA’s office to break the news.”

  Luke paused. “Is that a decision you’ll make or will Ms. Johnson have a say in it?”

  Grayson was silent for a moment. “I’ll make the final decision, but the reason I wanted Adisa on the case was to provide her unique perspective, as both a former prosecutor and a black person. Are you having second thoughts about her involvement after seeing what came out in the newspaper about Adisa and Reverend Reynolds?”


  “Wouldn’t you? Reynolds is one of the ringleaders of the people who want to see me locked up. How do we know Ms. Johnson isn’t secretly trying to weaken my defense?”

  “If she wanted to do that, why would she bring up the tip she received about the package of beef jerky? If she wanted to hurt you, she would have kept her mouth shut, and we might not have ever found out about it. Adisa is on your team.”

  “Okay, okay,” Luke said. “But I’m still counting on you to keep a close eye on her.”

  The call ended. Luke stared at the gun on the seat beside him. For the first time in weeks, he had something new in his arsenal—hope.

  Back in her office, Adisa gave Grayson an update in person following her trip to the hospital to serve the subpoena.

  “The notice for the records may turn up in your computer since the firm name was on the subpoena,” she told the older lawyer. “The password to access the information will follow separately.”

  “Good.”

  “And I left in the request for the surgically removed bullet and added a demand for blood samples that can be tested independently.”

  “Excellent,” Grayson replied. “We’re building momentum. Where do we stand with experts to do the testing?”

  “Good for everything except a blood expert, but that should be easy to find. There’s a doctor I worked with in Cobb County who would be a good choice.”

  Grayson checked his watch. “It’s not too late to call Baldwin and find out if he has the surgically removed bullet.”

  Grayson scooted his chair closer to Adisa’s desk while she placed the call and identified herself.

  “Just a minute, and I’ll see if Mr. Baldwin is available,” the receptionist said.

  “Should I record this phone call?” the DA began as soon as he came on the line.

  “Excuse me?” Adisa said.

  “So you can’t misstate what we discuss at a later time.”

  “Jasper, I’m here, too,” Grayson said before Adisa could respond. “We have a question that may not be included in your discovery material. Do you know who has the bullet removed from Deshaun Hamlin’s brain?”

  “It was delivered to the police department by Dr. Steiner and is now in an evidence locker there.”

  “Have you seen it?”

  “No, but there’s nothing exculpatory about it. It reveals the mechanism of trauma to the victim, and I don’t think you can seriously argue it won’t be admissible. Dr. Steiner is going to testify that she gave Hamlin less than a twenty-five percent chance of survival. Are you going to try to trot out a doctor who’s going to testify a bullet to the brain was a slight flesh wound?”

  “No,” Grayson said. “But we may ask someone to take a look at both the surgically removed bullet and the one that hit Deshaun Hamlin in the chest.”

  “I won’t oppose that so long as it takes place in a properly controlled environment.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, one other thing,” the DA said. “Are you and Ms. Johnson the only people in the room?”

  “Yes,” Grayson replied, raising his eyebrows.

  “I have a proposal for your client to consider. Are you interested in hearing it?”

  Adisa’s eyes widened. Grayson looked at her. She nodded her head.

  “Go ahead,” the older lawyer said.

  “It looks like Hamlin is going to make it. What he’s lost in terms of cognitive and physical ability is unknown, but based on my conversation with Dr. Steiner, it’s not likely that Officer Nelson is going to face a murder charge.”

  Adisa’s mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips.

  “I’m not in a position to make a formal plea offer,” Baldwin continued. “But I’m willing to run up a flag of truce and see which way the wind is blowing. This case is about to take a lot of time and resources on both sides, and it would make sense to resolve it. You saw what happened the other day at the courthouse. The more this case is kept in the public eye, the greater the likelihood another act of violence will occur. If we can do something sooner rather than later, it will move the community toward healing instead of vengeance. Should I continue?”

  “Yes,” Grayson replied. “Go ahead.”

  “First, there’s no room for a lesser included offense. Nelson is delusional if he thinks he was justified in shooting the victim, regardless of what was in a bag of beef jerky. Any deal is going to involve an aggravated assault charge.”

  Adisa’s jaw tightened. The truce flag might not make it off the ground.

  “I also believe a plea of no contest or nolo contendere under the First Offender Act would be a reasonable approach. That way, Nelson can avoid admitting guilt to save face, and once he completes his sentence and probation, his record will be wiped clean. If he’s convicted, you know the judge is going to give him at least ten years to serve in prison, and he could go all the way up to twenty years behind bars.”

  “That’s not happening,” Grayson countered.

  “And I won’t argue the point,” Baldwin replied smoothly. “But you can’t promise him anything less than a decade in the penitentiary if a jury finds him guilty. Am I right? Ms. Johnson knows how these cases were handled in Cobb County.”

  Adisa didn’t say anything. Judge Andrews could certainly do what the DA suggested.

  “I’ll take silence as an admission,” Baldwin said.

  “No jail time,” Grayson replied.

  “That might work for me, but it won’t for the community. Nelson has to serve at least a year or there will be a riot. He can be assigned to a new facility where inmates serve as firefighters for rural areas of the state. He doesn’t have fireman training, but there are plenty of transferable skills, especially in the emergency medical field, that would enable him to fit right in. Then twelve months later he’s back at home with his wife and little girl. After knocking out five years on probation he can walk down the street with no felony conviction on his record.”

  “Any fine?” Grayson asked.

  “No, and you should refund some of the retainer he paid you.”

  “That wouldn’t be a problem,” Grayson replied with another glance at Adisa.

  “The flag is up the pole,” the DA said. “And I’ll leave it there until the end of next week.”

  “Okay,” Grayson said. “Adisa, do you have any questions?”

  She shook her head.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Grayson said.

  Adisa pressed the button to end the call.

  “What do you think?” Grayson asked her.

  “That Luke ought to consider the offer, but I don’t think he will.”

  “We have to tell him.”

  “I know. Should I set up a meeting?”

  “No,” Grayson replied quickly. “Let me do it.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  AN HOUR LATER, Adisa pulled into Aunt Josie’s driveway and immediately noticed that Simone’s car was gone.

  “Aunt Josie!” she called out.

  “I’m in the guest bedroom,” the older woman responded in a weak voice.

  Adisa rushed in to see her. “What are you doing in here?” Adisa asked. “And where is Simone?”

  “I’ve been taking a nap,” Aunt Josie replied with a yawn. “When the surrounding scenery changes as little as it does for me, I decided that even if my eyes were closed, it would be nice to fall asleep and wake up someplace other than on the couch or in my bedroom. So I sent Simone out to run an errand for me at the grocery store while I rested. She made me promise not to do anything dangerous while she was gone.”

  “Okay,” Adisa replied with relief.

  “And you missed Reggie,” Aunt Josie continued. “He came by to see me.”

  Adisa sat at the foot of the bed. “How did it go?”

  “A man in love will say foolish things,” the older woman replied, shaking her head.

  “A man in love?”

  “Come on, child. I may be old and recovering from a stroke, but I have enough bra
in cells left to read Reggie like a children’s picture book. He talked to me for quite a while. It let me see his heart, and I’ve decided that’s his best feature.”

  “He’s amazing,” Adisa responded with a smile. “What did he say that was foolish?”

  “That he has everything in its proper place related to you and the shooting. He’s underestimating how people are going to react. Sadly, folks look for a reason to tear down those in positions of leadership like you and Reggie. The feelings you have for each other cause the world to change shape and look different than it did before you met. It’s not fair to judge Reggie harshly for following his heart instead of his head and sense of duty to the black community. He saw that you needed him the other day at the courthouse and didn’t hesitate to jump in and protect you. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’d have been disappointed if he did anything else.”

  “He made me feel special.”

  “And I’m happy about it. Did you tell him?”

  “I hinted at it,” Adisa said and then paused for a moment. “But I need to let him know in plain English. Sometimes I feel like we’re communicating at a level deeper than words.”

  “Hallelujah for that,” Aunt Josie said as a big smile creased her face.

  “Did he talk to Simone, too?”

  “They stepped outside for a few minutes, but I don’t know what was said.”

  “Do you think she’ll support him at the church? He’s catching a lot of flack.”

  “I’m not sure. All she mentioned to me was that she was going to keep her mouth shut if the topic of you and Reggie came up. A lot of times that’s the best thing we can do. I wrote her a little note and put it inside the envelope with her check.”

  “What did you say in the note?”

  “Can’t I have a tiny little bit of secrecy all to myself?”

  “Yes, but only if you do your evening physical therapy. I want to see how your manual dexterity in your right hand is progressing.”

  Adisa turned on her computer at the law office and scrolled down her in-box. The third item was from Campbellton Memorial Hospital with the subject line “Deshaun Hamlin.” As she read the medical records, Adisa pictured in her mind’s eye the chaotic scene that lay behind the dry medical verbiage: “nonresponsive, sixteen-year-old, African American male with gunshot wounds to upper-right quadrant of chest and right cranium near the ear canal.” Page after page documented the ebbs and flows of Deshaun’s fight for life.