“Well, because there is video, and video makes this case visual, which paints a picture, if you will, of the battle that our young black men face,” Minister Muhammad said.
Rev. Clayborn picked up from there. “We believe that your son, with his clean record, is just what we need to bring attention to our cause. Kind of like Rosa Parks. She wasn’t the first person to refuse to give up her seat, but she was the prime candidate to spearhead the cause.”
Candidate? Cause? Gloria frowned and looked at Elton. What in the world were these men talking about? And what did this case have to do with Rosa Parks?
“Not to mention the history that Jasper has,” added Minister Muhammad. “As you know, this city is a hotbed for racial intolerance. It’s a perfect platform to launch this nationwide movement.”
“The protests are already in full effect,” Rev. Clayborn continued in what now felt like a well-rehearsed presentation. “But right now, they’re random. We’ll take over, organize, execute, and take this to the national stage.”
Gloria looked at her husband and then back at them. They were talking about her son as if he weren’t a young boy sitting in a jail cell with real criminals. They were talking about him as a cause. He wasn’t some poster child for black crusaders. He was just a frightened sixteen-year-old boy who wanted to come home.
“Elton, say something,” Gloria mumbled. She wanted her husband to tell these men to get out of her house, that they weren’t interested in what these men were selling.
“Reverend, I know that your church is going through some things,” Rev. Clayborn continued. “This case could be just what we need to bring attention back to your church and get you some nationwide coverage.”
“We’re not interested in coverage,” Gloria found herself saying since Elton seemed to have lost his voice. “We’re interested in justice.”
“And so are we,” Rev. Clayborn said. “But justice comes to those who demand it. Have you hired an attorney yet?”
“Well, we’re in the process of doing that,” Elton replied. “We’re just having a little trouble.”
“Good, that you haven’t hired anyone,” Rev. Clayborn replied. “Of course we’ll help with your legal fees and, in fact, have an excellent attorney, Jerome Woods. He’s worked on several other racially motivated police cases. We’ve already spoken with him and he is anxious to get on board. Have you done any TV interviews?”
“No,” Elton said. “That’s not really our thing.”
“Well, we have to change that. We have to be vocal and vigilant,” Rev. Clayborn said.
Why is he answering these men’s questions? Gloria wondered. Elton must have known she was about to lose it because he told the men, “Can we step back in my office to talk about this? As you can imagine, it’s pretty difficult on my wife.”
She wanted to tell Elton that there was nothing to talk about, ask him why he was entertaining this foolishness. At this point Gloria Jones had no words left for her husband or the men he had just welcomed into their home.
As she watched them walk into the back room, bodyguards included, the disgust she’d felt for her husband jumped to a whole new level.
25
* * *
* * *
Gloria was making this drive again, but this time she was by herself. It’s not that she wanted to keep her husband in the dark, but she couldn’t take the negative energy. Right now, her sole focus was on Jamal. She couldn’t take the “if onlys” and “I told you sos” that Elton had been spewing lately. She just wanted to figure out how to save her son. And the way Elton had raved about how helpful the minister would be, Gloria knew that she’d have to do this alone because her husband had lost all good sense.
Gloria’s mind drifted back to the conversation that she’d had with Riley yesterday, just minutes after the ministers left her home.
Her heart had stilled when his Houston office number popped up on her caller ID.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Mrs. Jones. It’s Riley Manning.”
“Yes?” she said, it being the only word her mind could form. She wanted him to tell her he’d take their case. After the visit from those ministers, she needed him to tell her that he’d take their case.
“Well, after careful review, there is just no way I can take your case,” Riley said.
Gloria fell back against the wall to steady herself. Her knees seemed to have lost all elasticity.
“But I’m not giving up,” he quickly added. “I’ve reviewed the facts of your case. I’ve talked to Perry and we both agreed that a public defender would be a huge disservice to your son.”
“But if you won’t take the case, what are we supposed to do?” she managed to say.
“That’s just it. I did talk with one of my colleagues and he—”
Gloria stopped him. “No disrespect, but I need someone who’s going to believe in my boy.”
“And I wouldn’t give you someone who didn’t,” Riley countered. “My colleague, Phillip Christiansen, is very committed to a proper defense. I’ve talked it over with him and while he hasn’t officially agreed to take on the case, he would like to meet with you,” Riley said. “But we need to move fast. I don’t know if you saw the press conference earlier this week, but this case is moving at monumental speed.”
“I-I saw it.”
“How soon can you get here?” he asked.
The sound of a blaring horn jolted Gloria back to the present. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t even realized that she’d weaved into another lane.
She gave an apologetic wave and focused her attention back on the road.
Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling into the parking lot of a small brick building that said CHRISTIANSEN & CARVER LAW FIRM. This was a huge change from the high-rise that housed Riley’s office.
Gloria parked, then made her way inside. The receptionist greeted her as soon as the door chimed.
“Good afternoon and welcome. How may I help you?” the woman asked.
“I have an appointment with Phillip Christiansen.”
She glanced down at a pad. “Is he expecting you?”
Gloria nodded. “He is.”
“Okay. Please have a seat. Mr. Christiansen will be with you in a moment.”
As Gloria sat, she struggled to keep her nerves from getting frazzled. She really liked Riley and hated having to try to convince someone different of her son’s innocence.
She smiled when the handsome man who looked more suited for a magazine cover than a law office greeted her with a warm smile. “Hello, Mrs. Jones. Phillip Christiansen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She stood to greet him. “Nice to meet you as well. Thank you for seeing me.”
“Well, come on back. You’ll have to excuse my office. It’s a little cluttered.”
She followed him down a small hallway. There were pictures and newspaper clippings, but these seemed more community oriented. He did appear to be successful, but the place just didn’t seem as high class as Riley’s office.
“Can I get you some bottled water, coffee?” Phillip asked once she was seated in his office.
“I’ll take a water, please.”
Phillip reached in a small refrigerator behind his desk and pulled out an Ozarka water. Gloria took the water, unscrewed the cap, and took a quick sip as Phillip got settled behind his desk.
“So, first question. Do you truly believe that your son shooting the police officer was an accident?”
“I know it was an accident. And the voice that yelled, ‘You gon’ die tonight, cop,’ that wasn’t my Jamal. It’s one of the other boys,” she said.
“That should be easy enough to prove.”
“Jamal was just scared when the officer tackled him, instinct made him fight back, and then some kind of way, the gun went off,” Gloria said. “
I know that my son will face some type of punishment,” she went on, “but he doesn’t deserve a stiff sentence. He doesn’t deserve the death penalty like the papers are saying he is facing. He’s not a cold-blooded killer like they’re trying to make him out to be.”
“Has your son ever been in trouble before?” Phillip asked.
“No, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Oh, it has everything to do with it. That’s going to be the first thing the other side trots out,” Phillip replied.
She sighed. “Other than recently skipping school, he’s never had so much as a disciplinary write-up.”
“Give me a second,” Phillip said, glancing over a file in his hand.
“Take your time,” she said. Gloria took in the scenery in the office. It was obvious from his University of Texas undergraduate degree and his Rice University law degree that this man was well qualified. What she didn’t understand was why he wasn’t in some big firm like Riley.
Gloria continued glancing around the room. She stopped when she got to a family photo. The image caused her to drop her bottle of water and gasp.
“Are you okay?” Phillip asked, looking up from his files.
“Y-yes,” she said, reaching down and picking up the water, which didn’t spill since she placed the top back on. She pointed to the picture. “Your . . . Your wife?”
“Yes, that’s my family. My adorable children, Leslie and Ryan.” He leaned back and smiled proudly. “And yes, my wife is Kay Christiansen, the prosecutor in your son’s case.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“But let me be very clear,” Phillip continued. “My wife and I met in the courtroom, going up against each other. We both respect what the other one does. We don’t bring our work home. We don’t discuss our cases. We take our jobs very seriously. And if I take this case, I will fight for your son like he’s my own. I just want to be very clear.”
“How . . .”
“How can we go against each other?” He picked the photo up off his desk and looked at it. The love he felt was obvious. “Well, because in the courtroom, we’re not husband and wife. We’re two attorneys who believe in the sanctity of the law. It just so happens that I’m on one side and she’s on the other.” He set the frame back down. “Is that a problem for you?”
Gloria didn’t dare tell him what her real problem was. If he knew that, he’d never take this case. “No . . . no problem,” she stammered.
“Good,” he continued. “After reviewing everything, I will say I am afraid for your son. Not only is the media persecuting him, but the prosecutor will go for blood. But I will take your case and fight to not only get a fair trial, but even possibly get the charges dismissed.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Gloria said, all thoughts of Kayla Matthews disappearing from her mind. “Did Mr. Manning explain our financial situation?”
“It’s okay. There is a legal defense fund by the Save Our Boys Project that we’ll tap into if necessary. Don’t you worry about anything. Now, I can’t say it’s official until I meet your son and he agrees that he wants me.”
“Oh, he’ll want you,” Gloria said with a huge smile.
“Good.” Phillip stood and took her hand. “You just worry about staying strong for your son and staying prayerful that we have the best outcome possible. I want to set things up to see him as soon as possible.”
Gloria had never felt so relieved. On the way up here, she’d told herself that if Phillip didn’t take her case, they’d have to go with Rev. Clayborn and his militant friend, which she didn’t want to do. She didn’t have a good feeling about them.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Christiansen!”
He walked her out and she struggled to contain her excitement.
Now Gloria just needed to figure out how in the world she was going to tell her husband who their new attorney was.
26
* * *
* * *
Come on, Ryan. Get off the computer and go to bed. It’s past your bedtime,” Kay said as she tossed Leslie’s Barbie into the toy bin.
“Aww, Mom. Just five more minutes,” he whined.
“That’s what you said forty minutes ago.”
“But I’ve almost figured out this chemistry equation.” He peered at the screen as he scribbled in his notebook.
Kay walked over and stood behind him. She wouldn’t know that stuff to save her life; it was just a bunch of equations that looked like a jumble.
“Why are you waiting until the last minute to do your homework anyway? I’m shocked at you,” she chastised.
“Oh, this isn’t for tomorrow. This is due next week but I’m trying to get a jump-start on it.”
Kay stood smiling. How in the world could she be mad at that? Ryan was every mother’s dream.
“Come on, son. You can finish working on that tomorrow.” She patted his shoulder.
He shut down the computer, grabbed his notebook, and stood up.
“No, sir. Leave that notebook on the table. I know you. You’ll be under the cover with a flashlight working on that chemistry equation.”
He smiled. “Guess you got me.” He dropped the book on the table, kissed her on the cheek, and darted upstairs.
Kay put away a carton of juice that someone had left out, then surveyed the kitchen. Thank God for Selena. Not only did she cook and watch after Leslie, but she kept the house immaculate so that when Kay got home, there was little housework to be done.
She turned the light off and headed down the hallway. “Knock, knock,” she said, tapping her husband’s office door. “What are you doing in here?”
“Just handling some business.” He leaned back, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “Are you about to go to bed?”
“I am. I’m a little drained,” she replied.
“Long day?”
“Yep.”
Running this campaign was no joke. She, Valerie, Loni, and her campaign manager, Jeff, had spent all evening reviewing campaign strategies and preparing for upcoming debates.
“Well, go take your shower and I’ll be waiting when you get out.” He ran his tongue over his top lip in that LL Cool J way that always sent goosebumps up her spine. “I hope you can muster up just a little energy for Daddy.”
“That I think I can do.” Kay giggled before darting off to her room.
Kay showered, changed, then snuggled in the bed next to her husband, who, as promised, was waiting when she got out. This was her favorite time of the night, when they decompressed and just enjoyed each other’s company.
“You seem a little stressed,” he said, stroking her hair as she laid her head on his chest.
“I am. I know we don’t talk about work,” she replied, giving a disclaimer, “but I spent a great part of the day with Officer Wilkins’s family.”
Cheryl Wilkins had shown back up at her office this morning. Kay felt like she needed to help Cheryl find a good therapist because the woman was having the hardest time coping with her husband’s death. Cheryl had cried and cried and Kay had once again assured her that she was going to bring Jamal Jones to justice. “I just feel really bad for her. It’s such a shame to lose—”
“Ah,” Phillip said, cutting her off.
She raised her hands in defense. “Okay, okay. I know we’re not supposed to be talking about work.”
“No. Not just that.” He sat her up and turned her to face him.
“You know that thing Riley mentioned to us the other night?” Phillip began.
“What thing?”
“You know, about me taking on the case, your case?”
Kay sat back and stared at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve agreed to it?”
He hesitated, then said, “Yes, I want to. Do you have an issue with me doing it?”
She thought about it fo
r a moment. “You know I’ll never tell you who you should and shouldn’t represent.”
“That’s good to hear. This one is pretty high profile and I don’t want it to cause any problems with us.”
Kay thought about it for a moment, then said, “You know what? It’ll be fun.” She straddled him. “But you know I play hardball in the courtroom.”
“I know. That’s what turned me on about you. That’s why I stopped you, though. No discussing the case once we get to 34 Andre Court, right?”
“Oh, you know this.” She wiggled in his lap. “I can’t let you use that magnificent body to woo my strategy out of me,” she joked.
“Hmph. You’re sure about that?” He pushed her down on the bed and started kissing her neck.
“Positive. May the best person winnnn . . .” She moaned as his lips met her breasts.
“He will,” Phillip muttered between kisses.
Kay stopped him, then lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He removed a strand of hair from her face. “And nothing will ever change that.”
He returned to finish the job of pleasuring his wife.
27
* * *
* * *
Who was this man that she’d married? That’s the thought that ran through Gloria’s mind as they stood in the middle of the living room, arguing. Again.
“Are you listening to me?” Elton roared.
Since the day she’d said “I do,” Gloria had put her husband first. There was only one time that she’d put her foot down and stood up to him. Most of their marriage, she’d let him lead, even when she didn’t agree. She’d taken care of him, often at the expense of her and Jamal’s own feelings. And now, one simple tragedy had transformed her. She no longer cared what Elton Jones had to say.
She massaged her temples. “Elton, it’s obvious that we aren’t on the same page when it comes to our son.” They weren’t even in the same book, but Gloria was tired of arguing. Even if she understood his rationale for turning Jamal in, his behavior now caused her to question everything about her husband.
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