Chapter 14
The morning sun was hitting the windows of the Ritz when I woke up with Tatti still wrapped around me.
I let her sleep in while I called Shelia, one of our staff leads and had her bring clothes to the hotel.
I needed us looking sharp but calculated.
Not flashy. Just clean and professional for this meeting.
Last night, I had to go and check Namier ass.
Imagine how pissed I was when I got that call from Mars.
My own brother was undermining me and trying to move on his own.
Not only was that dangerous, but it was also dumb as hell.
I hated that he thought he could move around my orders.
All that I can do was hope that the talk really got through to him.
When Tatti woke up, she looked up at me and just smiled like she couldn’t believe this was our life. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. Only if she knew, this fairytale shit was about to come to an abrupt end in just a few hours. Today we have business to handle.
I told her what I needed from her today, she got up and headed towards the shower, begging me to join. I had to decline because if I didn’t, I knew that we’d both be in trouble. Nothing on our list would get accomplished today.
She came out of the shower and slipped into a white fitted suit with a pink shirt underneath.
The fit was perfect. Her curves showing just enough, but professional enough that nobody could say she was dressing for attention.
I threw on a white button down and some fitted denim jeans.
When we stood together in that mirror, we looked like we ran something. We looked like we meant business.
No questions asked, she was down for a nigga and was willing to do what needed to be done. Hand in hand, we walked out of that hotel like we owned Dallas.
—
The courthouse steps were crowded but we moved through them with purpose.
People noticed us. I could feel eyes on us, but it wasn't fear.
It was respect. This was a young couple walking into a courthouse like they had nothing to worry about.
Like they had everything under control. And right now, I was feeling like we did.
Tyree was waiting at the entrance like we planned.
He gave me a quick rundown as we walked - Judge Atkinson was old school, had been on the bench for twenty years, didn't like being pressured but responded to intelligence and respect.
The judge was expecting us, had agreed to give us thirty minutes. That was it.
"The angle we're playing," Tyree said, keeping his voice low, "is insufficient evidence for continued detention.
Your brother is being held on a murder charge with no corpus delicti - no body.
Without a body, the prosecution's case is fundamentally weak.
Add in the fact that there's no physical evidence linking him to the alleged crime, no credible witness statements that can be corroborated, and you've got a case that shouldn't have made it past the preliminary hearing. "
I nodded, already mapping out what I was about to say.
"We're also arguing violation of his Sixth Amendment rights," Tyree continued.
"Speedy trial clause. He's been sitting for over a year with no movement.
The stabbing incident proves the state can't adequately protect him, which is grounds for immediate bail review based on changed circumstances.
We file a motion for expedited hearing, argue public safety concerns, and push for release pending trial. "
"How much pressure can we put on him?" I asked.
Tyree looked at me. "Let me do the talking first. Feel him out. If he pushes back, you step in. But be smart about it."
We walked into the courthouse and went through security.
My phone got flagged but they let it through after checking.
We made our way to Judge Atkinson's chambers on the third floor.
His secretary - a woman who looked like she'd been working there since the courthouse was built, she greeted us and told us the judge would see us in just a moment.
That's when Tatti squeezed my hand. I looked at her and she was calm. Ready. She knew what was about to happen.
The door opened and Judge Atkinson stood up from behind his desk.
He was older, maybe late-fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and the kind of face that had seen too much.
His chambers were traditional. He had wood paneling, leather chairs, law books everywhere. This was a man who respected formality.
"Tyree," the judge said warmly, coming around the desk to shake his hand. "Good to see you."
Then his eyes moved to me and Tatti. He studied us for a moment, then a small smile crossed his face.
"Congratulations on becoming a new bride," he said, reaching out to shake Tatti's hand. "You look absolutely beautiful and best wishes on your union.”
Tatti smiled gracefully. "Thank you, Your Honor. I appreciate that."
The judge gestured for us to sit in the leather chairs across from his desk. He settled back into his chair, his hands folded in front of him. For a moment, he just looked at us. He looked like he was trying to figure out what angle we were working.
"I want to start by saying," Judge Atkinson began, "I don't typically entertain these kinds of informal meetings.
But Tyree here has been a friend for a long time, and yes, I do owe him a favor.
So I agreed to hear what you have to say about your brother's case.
But I want to be clear - this doesn't change procedure.
This doesn't change the law. This is just a conversation. "
"Understood, Your Honor," I said, my voice steady and respectful. "I appreciate you taking the time." I said, knowing that right now, I had to put on the biggest act. Being a street nigga wasn’t going to get me anywhere today. I had to play it cool.
The judge nodded and leaned back in his chair. "So. Tell me what's on your mind."
I didn't hesitate. I'd prepared this, gone over it a hundred times in my head.
"Your Honor, my brother Zaire Carter is currently being held on a charge of murder," I started, keeping my tone measured and professional.
"A crime for which there is no body, just a missing person whom my brother has never had no real ties to.
There is no physical evidence connecting him to any alleged crime.
There is no credible witness testimony. What exists is an unverifiable statement from an unnamed source that hasn't been corroborated by any investigative findings from my knowledge.”
I leaned forward slightly, keeping my eyes on the judge.
"The prosecution's case is BS, pardon my French.” I continued.
"Under the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure and Texas Code of Criminal Procedure, a defendant cannot be held based solely on hearsay testimony.
Rule 801 of the Texas Rules of Evidence excludes hearsay unless it falls under a specific exception.
Without a body, without evidence, without a credible witness who can be cross-examined, there is no case.
" I said, talking my shit. I’d done research and memorized this shit word for word.
The judge's expression shifted. He wasn't expecting this level of legal knowledge.
"Furthermore," I said, "my brother's Sixth Amendment rights are being violated. He has the right to a speedy trial. He's been incarcerated pending trial for way too long without any meaningful progress. The discovery is incomplete. There's been no preliminary hearing that actually tested the state's evidence. And most recently, he was stabbed in prison - an assault that proves the state cannot protect him while he's in their custody. And I’ve been cool, I’ve been patient, but now it’s getting out of hand, and I’m hoping that you will be on the side of what you know to be right.”
I sat back slightly, letting that land.
"That stabbing is a changed circumstance," I said.
"It's grounds for an immediate bail review if not dismissal of all of this. My brother should not be held in a facility where the state has demonstrated an inability to protect him from violence. Not to mention again, he shouldn’t even be in there.”
Judge Atkinson was watching me now with real interest. He glanced at Tyree, then back to me.
"You've done your homework," the judge said quietly.
"I have. I am my brothers voice while he doesn’t have one.
” I responded. "And with all due respect, Your Honor, I don't understand how my brother is still being held.
The case has no foundation. The evidence is non-existent.
The witness is unidentified and uncorroborated.
And now the state has proven it can't even keep him safe. "
The judge was quiet for a moment, considering.
"Look," he said finally, "I hear what you're saying. And you're not wrong about the weaknesses in the case. But there is a process. The DA filed charges based on information provided to them. It's not my place to second-guess their investigation."
"With respect, Your Honor," Tyree jumped in, "it is your place to ensure that detention is warranted under the law. The burden is on the state to prove probable cause. In this case, they haven't met that burden."
The judge nodded slowly. "You're right. And I will look into this more carefully. But this isn't something I can decide in thirty minutes. I need time to review the file, review the discovery, and examine what the state actually has."
"How much time?" I asked.
"Give me a week," the judge said.
I felt something shift in me. A week was too long. My brother needed to be out now. Every day he spent in that prison increased the risk of retaliation.
"Your Honor," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I need to speak with you privately for a moment. And I think you'll want this conversation without anyone else present. It's a personal question about something that concerns you directly."