“Attorney Rodgers– I have a docket full of cases that I need to share my time with. Either you get started, or I’m going to ask that you return when you have something for the court.”
“Your honor,” I cleared my throat.
“You have the floor.”
“I’d like to file a motion to dismiss this case and release my client from custody immediately. I have reason to believe the prosecution is wasting your time, my time, taxpayers' time, and the time of every individual who has been following this case for the last ten months. Today, Attorney Rodgers is searching for a piece of paper of some kind.
“Last month, it was a key witness. Three months before that, it was footage that proved my client wasn’t even in the vicinity of the murder for which he is being accused. I’d like to point out the fact that he has not located one of the things he’s promised the courts.
“I’m not sure if the optometrist has the prescription right for the bifocals sitting on the bridge of his nose, but it’s troubling that he can’t find a single piece of evidence that suggests the guilt of my client, other than the statement my client provided himself.
“It proves nothing more than the nature of the relationship between my client and the deceased. Everything else is merely circumstantial. This isn’t a simple misdemeanor, your honor; this is murder. I can’t walk out of this courtroom and go home to my loved ones today knowing that Mr. Baster hasn’t hugged his wife in ten months because we’re waiting for the prosecution to find a witness, footage, a file, or a good reason why he chose to imprison my client for a murder he has yet to prove he committed.
“So, I’m asking that you strongly consider releasing my client today instead of giving the prosecution more time to find things that don’t exist. We’ve been here before, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that we’ll be here again, waiting for Attorney Rodgers to share tangible, believable, factual evidence with the court.”
Head nods and low grumbling in favor of my motion swept through the back of the court. Judge Canter pushed her glasses up on her face and lifted Edgar’s file slightly. Her review was brief. She lowered the paper and released a notable sigh.
“Does the prosecution haveanythingfor the court today?”
“Your honor, if we could have more ti–”
“I hereby grant the motion for the release of the defendant. Th–”
There was a familiar buzz in my ear. Though I read the lips of Judge Canter, I could hear nothing more than the loud, deafening sound of victory. I hadn’t walked into a courtroom and left without the overwhelming feeling of relief.
It didn’t matter if justice had been served. There was a court of law that every accused criminal must face. And, it must be proven beyond a shadow of doubt that their conviction was accurate. That hadn’t happened today. Neither had it happened in any other case I’d been put on the docket for. Losing wasn’t an option for me.
Neither was it for the man who’d assigned the case to me. Edgar was a small portion of a well-oiled machine that didn’t quite run well without his presence. He needed to be a free man.
Not for my sake. Not for Yolanda’s sake. But, for the Triad’s sake. The deceased, Lewis Yates, had stepped over the gun line and gotten gunned down like the dog he was. Edgar should never have seen a day in a cell. However, that was behind us now.
My breasts pressed against a solid chest. Large hands slid up and down my back. Soundlessly, Edgar displayed his appreciation. Openly. Shamelessly. Happily.
Maintaining my composure, I widened the distance between us, tearing myself away from his embrace. I slid my hands down my clothes, straightening them as I looked up at the handsome being whom I wouldn’t care if I never encountered again.
“Good day, now, Mr. Baster.”
I collected myself and my things. With my briefcase gathered in my right hand, I pushed through the doors that led me to the firepit that I had chosen as my sanctuary. The courtroom was my home.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
As quickly as I’d come, I left Clarke City Courthouse. The race to my Mercedes was one I didn’t know I was participatingin until my bottom touched the leather seat, and the breath I’d been holding was released.
“My God, that’s a fine man.” I sighed, lifting the face of the flip phone from my briefcase. “Shit!”
I placed the phone against my ear and waited for it to connect.
Bzzz.
Bzzz.
Bzzz.
