Forever a Hustler's Wife Page 2

  “Desmond Taylor has a stable residence in Richmond, Virginia, where he was born and attended college,” Harowitz said.

  The prosecutor stood and countered, “And Virginia was the place where he served a ten-year prison sentence for murder, Your Honor.”

  Harowitz cleared his throat then calmly voiced, while holding his hundred-dollar ink pen, “A murder that he did not commit and for which he received an unconditional pardon.” He turned to look at the prosecutor. “He was robbed of ten years of his young life.”

  “How ironic it is that two years after he is released from prison his attorney, who Mr. Taylor feels railroaded him, is murdered in cold blood,” the prosecutor responded. And we have evidence that the defendant was less than forty miles from the scene of the crime on the same day.”

  Harowitz looked directly at the judge. “Technically this evidence as well as any mention of prior crimes is inadmissible in a bail hearing. We’re here only to prove that he isn’t a flight risk, which he isn’t, and to determine what is a reasonable amount for a bond,” he said calmly.

  “My client has strong ties to the community. He has a newborn daughter and a large family that loves and supports him. He and his wife have a lucrative luxury-car dealership, which he manages himself. His wife is a very successful attorney, who is here today in the courtroom.” He turned and briefly made eye contact with Yarni; she offered a small smile to the judge before looking at Des. Des smiled at her, and her heart melted again.

  “We’re not here to discuss his wife,” the prosecutor said in an irritated voice. “We’re here to discuss your client’s checkered past.”

  Harowitz was about to let loose a verbal onslaught on the prosecutor, but the judge finally stepped in. “Sidebar.”

  Both attorneys approached the judge’s bench.

  “Fellas, this isn’t a boxing match.”

  “Your Honor.” The prosecutor jumped in, determined to have the first say. “I’m making it known that this guy is an ex-offender and doesn’t deserve a bond.”

  “Ex-offender?” Harowitz said. “No. He was railroaded in the previous case, and by law he’s indeed innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Which I intend to do,” the prosecution said, lacking conviction.

  “I’d like to see that happen when the only evidence you have is a measly gas receipt charged to his company credit card from some station forty-eight miles away from the murder scene. On top of that, any one of his twelve employees could have used the card to purchase gas. Where are your witnesses? Your exhibits?” Harowitz looked at the prosecutor, who seemed to be tongue-tied and unable to respond. “Cat got your tongue? Or better yet, did a law change and someone forgot to send me the memo? My client deserves a reasonable bail.”

  The prosecutor looked to the judge, his Shriner buddy, for some help. “Your Honor, the only reasonable bail in this case is no bail.”

  “I hear you both, and you both have good arguments.” The judge sighed. “Bail is going to be set at a million dollars.”

  “Your Honor!” Harowitz exclaimed. “A million dollars? That’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

  “That’s my ruling. It is what it is. Let’s not forget that I’m the judge, and I make the final decisions in this courtroom.” With that, he struck his gavel once and signaled with a nod for the attorneys to take their places back behind their tables.

  “Thank you, Judge,” the prosecutor said as he walked away with a smile of victory on his face and a bounce in his step. Although his Shriner brother had set a bond, he had still, in effect, ruled in his favor. As far as the prosecutor and the judge were concerned, no black man besides an athlete or entertainer could ever make that kind of bail.

  Both attorneys positioned themselves behind their respective tables facing the judge. When Des observed the big smile plastered on the prosecutor’s face, his first thought was that he was conquered, but his gut told him differently, and his gut was usually right. Harowitz didn’t give him any indication of what was said during the sidebar, so Des just focused in on the judge as he began to speak.

  “Bail will be set at one million dollars cash.”

  Chills went up Yarni’s spine, but she tried not to let the ruling affect her. She focused only on what the judge had to say. “The rules on this bail are as follows: You can put up one million dollars cash, or if you own a piece of property valued at least three times the one million dollars, that can be put up to secure your bail.”

  At least there was a bond, so Yarni knew there was hope. She struggled to hold back her tears. She didn’t want to break down, not now at least, not in the courtroom. Des gazed over at her as he whispered in his attorney’s ear. Yarni quietly moved her lips to say “I love you,” and nodded, offering him a small smile, which Des returned.

  Because of the last episode, it seemed the bailiff was moving much faster. Before Des was even finished speaking to his attorney, the bailiff pulled him away. A few minutes later, after Harowitz gathered his case files, he made his way outside the courtroom to where Yarni was waiting.

  “So, a million dollars?” Yarni said as he walked over to her.

  “I’m sorry, Yarnise. I wish it wasn’t so—”

  “I know. You did really well in there. We both know that it could have been so much worse.”

  “The prosecutor is a complete asshole, and he knows he doesn’t have a case. The bail is so high only because they’re the good ol’ boys.”

  “I kind of figured that.” She paused. “For the record, Mark, I will help with any research that you need. I really appreciate this. I can’t tell you how much.”

  “Oh, I know you will, but I’m going to put my best foot forward. I’ll handle this. You just take care of that little baby girl of yours.”

  Yarni’s face lit up at the mention of her daughter. “Taking care of my little Desi is mandatory, but I will not kick back and let my husband fall victim to this system again. I can’t. I won’t,” Yarni stated with determination. “I’m simply not going to let that happen.”

  “I know,” Harowitz said, placing his hand on Yarni’s shoulder. “We’ve just got to be on top of everything, and it starts with a million dollars.”

  “I know.” She glanced down and then looked back up at him and repeated, “A million dollars, huh?”

  He nodded slowly and echoed, “A million dollars. I know it’s a lot of cash, but I think it would help us prepare for the case if Des was out of jail.”

  “He won’t be in jail,” Yarni assured Mark.

  A million dollars wasn’t going to stop Yarni from having Des with her. Des was her all—he was her everything, her world, her heart, her mind, her soul, her husband, her baby’s father. A million dollars, though a lot of money, was not enough to stand in the way of her being with her man.

  “Keep me posted. I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.”

  “Thanks, Mark,” she said as he started to walk away.

  “Oh,” he said, snapping his fingers as if remembering something. “Desmond said to tell you to come visit him before you make any moves.” The word moves sounded funny coming from Mark. “He says he really needs to talk to you.”

  “Okay. Thanks again for everything.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said over his shoulder, heading for the elevators.

  Yarni went directly to the jail to try to see Des, only to be informed that her visitation rights with him were revoked because years ago she had been a convicted felon. With the help of a lawyer she had worked for, her record had been expunged before she went to law school and now she was a working attorney, but no matter how many ways she tried to explain, they still refused to let her see Des. Yarni finally realized that there was no hope in getting through to them. She didn’t want to get all worked up, so she thanked them and left, but she wouldn’t give up. She knew that there was always more than one way to skin a cat. And she was about to skin one alive.

  Yarni exited the jail and conjured up her plan over a leisu
rely lunch. The reality was that no man, woman, or child, no bars, walls, or fences, and damn sure no underpaid, paper-pushing deputy sheriff was going to keep her away from seeing her man. She made a few phone calls to kill time until after 2:30 that afternoon, when the shifts changed at the jail. At 3:05, she returned with her briefcase in hand.

  “Yes, ma’am,” greeted the female guard with short dreads, looking her over. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” Yarni replied. “Attorney visit with Samuel Johnson.” She handed the guard her business card.

  After looking over the card, the guard said, “Just one moment, ma’am.”

  Yarni smiled.

  “It’s nice to see a sistah as an attorney,” the guard said.

  “Thank you,” Yarni said aloud in a gracious tone, but to herself she said, I am so glad that the new millennium Angela Davis is working today. She looked up at the ceiling and smiled.

  It only took a few minutes for them to point her to the visiting room where Samuel was waiting for her. When she walked into the room, he looked her over and rolled his eyes and asked her with much attitude, “Did that bullshit-ass attorney of mine send you?” He didn’t try to hide the attitude in his voice.

  “No, he didn’t,” Yarni answered his question. “Do you really think he’s thinking about you right now? I mean really?” Yarni pouted and tilted her head sideways as if he had just made the dumbest comment of the year.

  “He just ought to be thinking about my black ass. My peoples paid that motherfucker top dollar.”

  “You actually paid him money?” She burst into a roar of laughter. “You can’t be serious. I would have sworn that he was court-appointed.”

  He looked up at her and said with hostility, “Well, who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you want?” Still disgruntled, he asked, “You police? Because if you are, I ain’t do shit, and I ain’t telling a motherfucking thing. So, beat yo’ feet, baybee.”

  Yarni chuckled a bit, but she knew she had to throw professionalism out the window and get straight gully with this guy. “Look, I’m not trying to rob you with or without a gun. I’ma say it like this because Dougie couldn’t have said it any better, ‘Cut that zero and get with this hero.’”

  He laughed. “It’s going to take more than a pretty face to beat my charges.”

  “Look, I’m the cream of the crop. I’ve worked for and with the best, and have beaten, the best.”

  Samuel leaned back, looked Yarni up and down, then smacked his lips. “You ain’t no lawyer. Shawdy, go ’head wit’ dat bullshit and stop playing wit’ me.”

  “It isn’t a joke,” Yarni said in a very serious tone, leaning forward. “I don’t play games. I win games. I had a baby just three weeks ago. You think I got time to come down here and play games with you when I could be at home with my baby?”

  Samuel gave Yarni the once-over again and began nodding while tilting back on two legs of his chair. “What can you do for me that the other attorney can’t?”

  “Can’t or ain’t? Which one? Because there’s a difference,” Yarni said.

  He looked at her and, without answering, let out a slight chuckle.

  “Look, the bottom line is that your attorney is bull-mother-fucking-shit, okay?” She continued to let him know what was real in the field. “All he’s going to do is plead you out.” She moved her head back and forth and let the words roll off her tongue as if they were a song. “He’s going to come to visit you all of a total of thirty minutes, if that, throughout the entire case. He’ll spend five minutes talking to the prosecutor, and, before you know it, you gonna be standing in front of the judge, your family, and your loved ones saying the word guilty to a lesser charge in exchange for about forty to fifty years.”

  Samuel was shocked that Yarni was giving him the rundown like she was doing, so he couldn’t help but listen as she made him buy into her vision. She saw she had his attention and continued to lay it on thick.

  “Then the next thing you know,” Yarni continued, “you look at yourself in the mirror and that ’fro you got now will be long processed curls, and you’ll be answering to the name Samantha.” He was about to say something smart to her, but she cut him off before he could even get started. “I know you ain’t going out like that, but, brother man, forty years is a long time for you to try to rumble. You a light-skinned dude, small and frail, too. You know how it goes. You been down before. You’re not going to the boot camp this time, so this time it’s straight to the big house, my darling.”

  He nodded and listened to her because he could tell she was a woman who knew some things, most likely some things that could help him.

  “And how would you be different?” he asked, still slightly doubtful. “What could you do?”

  “I wouldn’t take any shit, and I’d come out fighting.” She gave him a compassionate stare. “If there is a way for you to be exonerated, I’ll find that way.”

  “Look, I ain’t got no mo’ money. That other jive-ass lawyer got it all.”

  “Don’t worry about that. You can pay me in another way.”

  He got quiet and put his chair back down on all fours. “How?” he asked with a confused look on his face. “I just told you I don’t have no money.”

  “I’m going to have you be the go-between for me and my husband. He’s the guy whose case was heard right after yours today in court. You’re going to need to let him know that I’m your attorney now. Also tell him to make sure that he calls me at eight o’clock tonight. Can you handle that?”

  “Yeah, but what about if your husband gets out? Are you going to forget about me?”

  “A deal is a deal: My word is law and my word is my bond. And your deal is more than a fair deal.”

  He thought for a minute before asking, “That’s all I gotta do?”

  “Yes, that’s all you have to do. Now, is it a deal?”

  She extended her hand. After hesitating for a moment, he smiled and shook Yarni’s hand.

  She grabbed her briefcase and stood up. “There’s one more thing.”

  “What is it?” Samuel asked, knowing this was too good to be true.

  “I need to know that I can trust you.”

  “You can, like my life depends on it.”

  “Don’t talk to anyone but me about anything regarding your case. There are a lot of people trying to make deals to get out of jail.”

  He smiled. “I know what’s up.”

  “Anything we discuss is between us. Don’t talk to any cell mates, homeboys, girlfriends, baby mommas—none of that. They’re all suspect and can be broken.”

  “I gotcha.”

  “Now, let me warn you. This is going to be an uphill battle. I’m going to start by flooding them with paperwork. I’m going to file for a change of venue, as well as a discovery motion, and I’m going to continue to push a ton of paperwork; they are going to get intimidated. They hate that. Prosecutors have small offices and don’t have the time to respond to large briefs,” Yarni informed her new client. “All in all, if that doesn’t stop them, then I’ll just put my gloves on and box it out with them.”

  “I hear you, Layla Ali.” Samuel smiled, glad to have this woman as his attorney.

  “No, I’m a heavyweight.” Yarni winked.

  Once their visit was over, she went back to the front desk, where there was now another guard working.

  Thinking quickly, Yarni said to the guard, “You can send in my other client now.”

  “And who is he?” the guard asked, too busy looking at a tabloid magazine to pay much attention to her.

  “Desmond Taylor.”

  “Okay, no problem,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Yarni said, then returned to the room she had just left.

  Before long, Des walked into the room. A huge grin swept across his face when he saw Yarni sitting there.

  News always traveled quicker than a wildfire in the penal system. Des had heard about her failed first attempt to see him, but he knew that Yarni would fi
gure out a way to come see him somehow. She always did and always would. Yarni stood when she saw Des and ran over to him. He embraced her with a tight hug, and as soon as he did, she couldn’t fight her battle anymore, the tears just poured from her eyes and onto his shoulder.

  “I love you, baby,” Yarni said as Des kissed her on her head and rubbed her hair, trying his best to comfort her.

  “I love you, too,” he replied, and Yarni lifted her head to look him in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, now that I’ve gotten a chance to talk to you. How are you and my baby girl doing?”

  “She’s good, just big and fat.” Yarni gave a dry chuckle, but Des could tell it was only a way for her to keep from crying again.

  “Baby, I’m sorry for leaving y’all like that.”

  “No problem. I know you’re married to the game,” she said, unable to resist taking a shot at him for leaving her and their baby at the hospital to take care of business.

  He looked into her eyes and grabbed her hands, pulling her even closer to him. “No, baby, I’m married to you and our baby girl.”

  Yarni sighed and walked away. “Look, baby, this isn’t even the time for us to get into this.” Frustrated with the whole situation, she put her hand on her forehead. “We’ll discuss this when you get out of here. Right now, let’s focus on making that happen.”

  “Look, I know we got over a million stashed,” Des said, following her, “but that is what they’re waiting for. We ain’t giving them no million dollars.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Yarni agreed, letting him know that they were on the same page. “I already made the phone call about the deed.”

  “I knew you would. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Look, I got too much at stake here—my baby girl, you, my freedom. Shit, I just did ten years and finally got things falling sweet like I want ’em.” He maintained eye contact with her. “And for real, I know you probably think that I had something to do with what they’re charging me with—”