Prologue #5
While she wasn’t my client, she was part of the reason I studied Edgar’s case around the clock, keeping longer hours than I cared to admit. The hollowness in her eyes was familiar. I was her.
The loneliness lingered in our bones.
The hollowness was evident in our eyes.
The ache was woven between our words.
“Docket #4208432422, your honor.”
I stepped forward, pushing my way through the small set of doors that served as a boundary between the spectators and the members of the judicial system I’d sworn into many years ago.
The court’s proceedings were underway. Words were tossed back and forth from those on the opposite side of the law until, finally, the court was in session.
“Attorney Range Childers, your honor, here on behalf of my client, Edgar Baster.”
As the words fell from my lips, Edgar was ushered to my side.
He rubbed his right wrist and then slowly moved on to the left one.
The diamonds of his timepiece glistened, though they were hardly on display underneath the black tailored suit jacket and white button-down to match.
The cuffs that once bound him were now on the waist of the officer escorting him.
I held my breath, awaiting his arrival. Before he reached me, his scent twirled around my nostrils. I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling the unique notes of his cologne. When I reopened them, he was right there, standing next to me with his shoulder against mine.
The attraction was apparent. His to me. Mine to him.
However, its innocence kept us at bay and from ever crossing lines we couldn’t retrace later.
Edgar was a married man. I wanted nothing to do with him outside of my professional life.
Still, he possessed the qualities of a well-rounded man.
One I’d consider the perfect candidate for my life’s course.
Silently, I prayed that Yolanda would be put through the mattress and then through the floorboard tonight. She’d spent months away from her husband. They both needed whatever was coming to them upon his release.
“Attorney Jake Rodgers, your honor.”
The uncertainty in Jake’s voice lured my eyes in his direction.
My nostrils widened with confidence. He shuffled through a stack of unkempt papers on the table, frantically searching for nothing at all.
His untamed hair and size-too-big suit led me to believe he was in the same condition as he was the last time we’d met in this very courtroom.
“Attorney Rodgers–”
“One second, your honor. I am– I am trying to locate th–”
“The defense, do you have any remarks as we wait for the prosecution to locate whatever they’re in search of?”
“Your honor, I’ll wait.”
I set my briefcase on the table and unclamped it. Inside, neatly arranged papers greeted me. I displayed my orderly nature intentionally, understanding that it was a character flaw of the man responsible for prosecuting my client.
Thirty seconds.
I lowered my gaze to Edgar’s hands. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, prepared to have a seat. I placed my right hand over his just as he began to descend.
Ninety seconds.
“Stand. We won’t be here long enough for you to get comfortable.”
Obliging, he rebuttoned his jacket and smoothed the invisible wrinkles with his palms.
One hundred and twenty seconds.
I turned toward the prosecution, a smirk pulling my lips rightward. The wait wasn’t necessary. What I’d come to say was on the tip of my tongue. However, the dramatic silence was for the betterment of my argument. It supported my claims. It proved my point. And, it worked in my favor.
One hundred and fifty seconds.
The spectators grew more anxious with each passing minute. The wood benches began to squeak. Whispers began to fill the gaps. Movement was plentiful. Soon, there wouldn’t be order in the court.
Doubt combed over the silence, unmasking the reality of the case that had been brought against my client. It was baseless.
“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 have anything for 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 participating in 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.
Bzzz.
I searched for my cell, unsure of who was trying to reach me. There was one conversation on my mind, and it didn’t involve whoever was calling my cell. Its retrieval left me stumped.
I lifted my gaze, focusing on the rearview mirror. A slight shift with my right hand and I was rewarded generously. The overwhelming presence stirred something inside of me. Something deep. Something profound. Something wavering. Something grand.
“Teddy,” I whispered, holding the cell against my chest.
I swallowed the thick pocket of air, forcing it down my throat.
“I was just calling you.”
He nodded.
“Now you don’t have to.”
Rolling my eyes, I dismissed the initial shock of his presence.
“You’re an arrogant a–”
“I didn’t come to fight, Range. Save your theories for the judge.”
“That’s no theory. That’s a fact. I have years of evidence to prove my case.”
His silence was repulsive.
“You’re not here for nothing, Chem.”
He shook his head.
“I’m not.”
“I’m listening.”
“Good job.”
“Clap for me when I’ve done something impressive. Maybe not even then. But don’t clap for me now. I’m only doing my job. You asked for a cleaning. You have it.”
Chem’s smile was lethal. Swaying. It softened me the moment my eyes touched it.
“What did I do to upset you, baby?”
“Nothing.”
“The roll of your neck and the sassiness say otherwise.”
His posture changed. He leaned in as I started my engine. I eased out of the parking spot and into traffic, trying to find the words.
“I’m listening.”