Page 14 of Rebooked For Us
“What are you talking about?”
“Skye, I can’t do it.” He stopped and looked me in my eyes. His hand went to his ear, tugging once, and the strain in his facemade me step forward and place a hand on his cheek. “I can’t go to Upland. Not if you aren’t coming with me.”
present day
“Counselor, the jury is yours.”
I buttoned my jacket, took one breath, and walked to the center of the courtroom. I had been preparing for this moment for eleven days, and if I was being honest, my whole career. Joseph Walker was not my biggest case on paper. He would be when I was done.
Life and loss had turned me into a shark. That’s what people respected. Something dangerous enough that nobody mistook kindness for weakness anymore.
I turned and faced the jury. Twelve people who had been sitting in those seats long enough to be tired of everyone in this room. I was going to be the last thing they remembered.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” I smiled. Not the lawyer smile. The real one. “You’ve been very patient with us.”
A few of them smiled back. That was all I needed.
“The prosecution spent two weeks telling you who Mudd the entertainer is. His lyrics. His videos. His lifestyle.” I walked slowly, hands relaxed at my sides, like we were having a conversation and I had nowhere else to be. “They spent a lot of money and a lot of your time painting a picture of a dangerous man.” I stopped. “What they forgot to do was prove it.”
I let that sit.
“Now I want to talk to you about something the prosecution hoped you wouldn’t notice. Not because you aren’t smart enough to notice. You are. Every single one of you.” I looked at Juror Four, a retired schoolteacher from the south end who had been nodding at my arguments for eleven days. “They hoped you were too busy to notice. They hoped you’d be so busy looking for the needle in the haystack that you’d miss the haystack full of evidence.”
I walked to the evidence table and picked up a single document.
“Cell tower data. Putting my client forty miles from the scene at the time of the alleged incident.” I set it down. “A witness whose statement changed three times before trial. Three times must be the charm.” I held up three fingers and shrugged. “And surveillance footage from a camera two blocks east that the prosecution’s office was made aware of in discovery.” I paused. “And chose not to disclose.”
The prosecutor straightened in her seat.
“Now, I want to be fair to AUSA Anvers.” I turned toward her with that same smile. “I’m sure that was an oversight. I’m sure nobody in that office looked at footage that would exonerate my client and made a decision about it.” I turned back to the jury. “But whether it was intentional or incompetent, the result is the same. My client’s right to a fair trial was compromised, and theonly people in this room who can do anything about that are the twelve of you.”
I walked back to the center and stood there for a second.
“Mudd makes music. He’s very good at it. Three platinum albums say so. But making music about a life is not living that life. Writing about something is not doing it. If that were true, half the writers in this country would be in prison, and the other half would be running from it.” A few jurors laughed. “Joseph Walker is a philanthropist. A son. A father to two beautiful children and a husband to their mother. Joseph can be found at local gyms and community centers handing out new shoes or giving the ones off his feet. And you know why I didn’t lead with that? Because it didn’t matter. My client was nowhere near the scene of the crime. He’s innocent.”
I grabbed my water and took a sip before looking back at them.
“Find my client not guilty. Because he is. Because the evidence says so. Because you came here to do a job, and the job is the truth.” I looked at every face one more time. “I trust you to do it.”
I buttoned my jacket and returned to my seat.
My father stood and left the courtroom before the judge even dismissed the jury. Still finding ways to make everything about himself and piss me off in the process. I didn’t play that bragging shit, but I was good at this. I had been studying law in my own way since I was a kid, following my grandfather around. School was a technicality.
I didn’t need that man’s well-wishes or his oversight. I didn’t even understand what he was doing in Upland. His claim to be auditing the office sounded like bullshit. We didn’t need an audit. Upland was outperforming every other location. My team and I carried Shane & Simmons.
Instead of focusing on him, I stood feeling confident as the judge dismissed the jury.
I stepped into the hallway and headed out to grab a sandwich. I didn’t think the jury would be out long. There wasn’t much to discuss. This case had gone on longer than it needed to. Delays, motions, a bunch of bullshit thrown our way to convict another Black man.
I represented some shady people. That was the territory of a defense attorney, one of the most sought-after in the area. But this time Mudd’s wild ass almost found himself sitting the fuck down for real. I had done my part. The job of finding out who had been working overtime to set him up was on him.
“Simmons,” Melissa at Crazy ‘Wich called out as I walked in.
I grabbed my order and found a seat near the window. Pulled out my phone and texted my assistant to check on my trip. I couldn’t wait to get away.
I had spent years grinding and working overtime to prove to my father and everyone who doubted me that I could do this and be successful at it. My father had been hellbent on staying away from celebrities, but Upland was growing and so was the entertainment industry. Streamers getting deals. Artists are going independent. I had respected the family’s position long enough. Today’s win was a step into my next phase.
I would go down in history as my own man. Then I’d be putting this place behind me for paradise.
