A Time to Stand

by Robert Whitlow

  She reached the operative records of the surgery to remove the bullet from the teenager’s brain. The surgical notes dictated by Dr. Steiner were particularly chilling: “dissection, hemostasis, cannula, cranium drill.” Adisa knew the bullet was hidden in vital brain tissue and not as easy to spot and pick up as a shiny penny lying on the sidewalk. Each probe, every microscopic movement by the surgeon, could create problems that would impact the rest of Deshaun’s life. Though she knew the outcome, Adisa sighed with relief when the notes reported that “the patient was transported to the ICU in stable condition.”

  Adisa started skipping words as she looked for the answer to her most important question: What was present in Deshaun’s blood at the time of the shooting? In their present form the records weren’t in chronological order, and the lab reports came after the operative notes. Adisa slowed when the first of several pages of lab data came into view. She wasn’t sure how comprehensive the testing might be, but it became quickly clear that the teenager’s blood had received an extensive protocol of testing: alcohol, amphetamines, barbiturates, methadone, cocaine, phencyclidine (PCP), tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), and opiates. After each category the same word appeared—“negative.” Only the final and most important group revealed a different result. Next to the category “Opiates,” where a drug like heroin would appear, was the word “positive.” Adisa sucked in a quick breath. She checked the date and time of the blood test. It was conducted within three hours of Deshaun’s admission to the hospital.

  Adisa continued through the records to the next round of blood tests. The results were once again positive for opiates. At that point Deshaun would have been on prescribed painkillers that would show up in the opiate category. She backtracked and found the earliest record of a urinalysis. Although not as precise as a blood test, it could sometimes yield a different result. There was a knock on her doorframe. She glanced up and saw Grayson standing in the opening.

  “Just a minute,” she said, holding up her hand. “I’m in the middle of something important.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Grayson enter the room. She opened the next page of the records and found the results of the urinalysis. Adisa leaned back in her chair and glanced over at Grayson.

  “Deshaun’s blood and urine were positive for opiates when he arrived at the hospital,” she said. “He was high at the time of the shooting.”

  Grayson slowly nodded his head. “I’m surprised and not surprised, if that makes sense. I’m surprised based on the kind of young man he seemed to be and not surprised because of the heroin in the package of beef jerky.”

  “Should we have Deshaun’s initial blood samples retested?”

  “Do you have any doubt?”

  “Not really. The lab technicians were just doing their job. They don’t pick sides.”

  “Let’s bring in Luke and show him what you’ve found. It will also be a good time to bring up the possibility of a plea bargain.”

  For a split second, Adisa wanted to suggest holding back the results of the blood test as a way to increase the slim likelihood that Luke would accept the DA’s informal proposal to end the case. She kept her mouth shut.

  “I’ll ask my paralegal to call him,” Grayson continued.

  Luke hung up the phone in the kitchen.

  “Who was that?” Jane called out from their bedroom.

  “Mr. Grayson’s office. He wants to meet with me this afternoon at two o’clock and give me an update.”

  Jane appeared with Ashley in her arms. The little girl had a jagged red splotch on her left cheek.

  “At least they took you seriously when you said you didn’t want to be kept in the dark,” Jane said.

  “What happened to Ashley’s face?” Luke asked. “Did she fall down? I didn’t hear her crying.”

  “You would have heard me crying. She got into my lipstick.”

  “She’s a girl,” Luke replied with a smile. “Of course she loves lipstick.”

  “Then it’s your job to teach her it’s not a crayon.”

  Luke parked in front of Grayson, Baxter, and Williams. He no longer had to introduce himself to the receptionist.

  “You may go on back to the main conference room,” the young woman said.

  Luke was staring at the Augustus Frampton portrait when he heard movement behind him. It was Adisa.

  “Have a seat,” the lawyer said. “Mr. Grayson is tied up in a deposition that’s run longer than he anticipated.”

  Luke sat across the table from Adisa, who slid several sheets of paper across the shiny surface.

  “These are the results of the initial blood and urine tests performed when Deshaun was admitted to the hospital. They’re positive for the presence of opiates.”

  Luke scanned down the list and looked up. “Is there a question about the validity of the results?” he asked.

  “No, not in my mind.”

  Luke was silent for a moment before he spoke. “The fact that Hamlin was high and in possession of an illegal substance like heroin ought to count for something.”

  “It’s another stone in the wall of the defense we’re building.”

  Luke could tell the lawyer had something else to say, but she didn’t seem eager to continue.

  “What else?” he asked.

  “During a conversation with Jasper Baldwin yesterday, he brought up the possibility of working out a deal that will end the case. It wasn’t a formal proposal, but Mr. Grayson and I believe it could become one if there’s any interest on your part.”

  Luke’s jaw muscles tightened.

  “And under the ethics rules, I have to communicate any offer even if you choose to turn it down.”

  Luke bit out his reply. “Go ahead.”

  Adisa laid out the terms of the plea deal. Luke was well aware of the provisions of the Georgia First Offender Act and had heard about the minimum security facility where inmates served communities without adequate numbers of firefighters. He swung between anger at the suggestion that he admit he did something wrong and fear that making the wrong decision would separate him from his family for a decade or more. All the secret thoughts and fears that had plagued him in the night hours since the shooting rushed to the surface. He knew there was the possibility that he could be found guilty and end up in prison, but hearing the words from Adisa’s mouth caused a sense of fierce resentment at his predicament. He struggled to maintain his composure.

  “Oh, I should have mentioned that all of this would be based on a nolo contendere plea, not a guilty plea,” Adisa said as she wound down. “That means—”

  “I’m not admitting guilt, just agreeing to be punished,” Luke managed.

  “Yes, that’s a fair way of describing it.”

  Luke clasped his hands together in front of him and rested them on the table. He bowed his head for a moment.

  “It’s a huge decision,” Adisa continued. “Any objective analysis of the evidence in the case would result in a conclusion that you are at risk for a guilty verdict that would be devastating to you and your family. I hope you won’t have a knee-jerk reaction—”

  “A what?!” Luke looked up and raised his voice.

  “It’s just a figure of speech,” Adisa said, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to imply you wouldn’t carefully consider—”

  “Yes, you did!” Luke shot back. “You think I’m a deranged, racist cop who can’t make a rational decision for myself and my family!”

  Adisa licked her lips and slid her chair away from the table. “Luke, I think this conversation is over,” she said. “We’ll reconvene when Mr. Grayson can join us—”

  Luke pointed his finger at Adisa’s face. “The next time we reconvene, or whatever you want to call it, you are not going to be in the room. I’m not guilty! Is that clear?”

  Adisa nodded nervously as she replied, “Yes. Very clear.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  ADISA GLANCED APPREHENSIVELY over her shoulder as Luke exited through the door that l
ed to the reception area. She made it to the chair behind her desk and collapsed. It took several deep breaths for her to calm down.

  Maybe Luke was right. She knew her heart and her mind were divided. Part of her saw no basis for Luke’s actions other than a deeply rooted racial bias. Another part was determined to vigorously argue that the officer was innocent until proved guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Adisa glanced at the computer and saw an e-mail from Theo Grayson:

  Ask Nancy Kate to reschedule the meeting with Luke Nelson for tomorrow afternoon.

  Adisa had gone into the conference room without checking her in-box. With one last sigh to calm her nerves, she began to check other e-mails in an effort to restore a sense of stability to her day. The phone on her desk buzzed, causing her to jump. She wasn’t settled down yet. She picked up the phone anyway.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Reggie Reynolds. Do you want to send him to voice mail?”

  Adisa hesitated for a moment. “No, I’ll take it.”

  She put the phone on speaker. “I just came out of a four-hour meeting with the deacons at the church,” Reggie began. “It started over a late breakfast and stretched into the afternoon. One of the things that came up had to do with threats against you.”

  “What?” Adisa buried her face in her hands.

  “The son of one of the deacons mentioned it to his father last night. The young man runs with a rough crowd and heard people identify you as a target for an attack. I didn’t want to scare you, but I wouldn’t have felt right if I hadn’t let you know right away.”

  “Sure, thank you,” Adisa answered.

  Her thoughts immediately went to her close encounter with the group outside the rec center the night of the big rally.

  “People talk among themselves, but nothing comes of it,” Reggie said. “That doesn’t make me feel better about your safety, though.”

  “I’m more worried about Aunt Josie,” Adisa replied, trying to get the focus off herself.

  Whoever fired the shots at Luke Nelson’s house could do the same at her aunt’s place.

  “I’m not sure what to do,” Adisa said.

  “I do,” Reggie said in an emphatic tone of voice. “You should withdraw from representing Officer Nelson. Mr. Grayson would issue a press release so it gets out to the public. You can help in the background but won’t show your face at the courthouse or do anything that looks like you’re still defending the white cop. This isn’t about Officer Nelson or Deshaun. It’s about you.”

  Reggie’s words brought pent-up tears to the corners of Adisa’s eyes. She tried to steady her voice before answering.

  “Are you a pastor or a prophet?” she managed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll discuss it with Mr. Grayson, but when I accepted a position with the law firm, I had to agree to be part of the team representing Luke. It was a condition of getting the job.”

  “Then leave. You don’t need Mr. Grayson to practice law in Campbellton. With our connections in the black community, you’d have tons of clients in no time. All you’d have to do is open an office.”

  “Reggie, that’s not the type of law I want to practice. You’re talking about a business model that hasn’t worked for a generation. Attorneys have to specialize to be competent, and I’ve found a niche in the business law area that I enjoy. Those types of corporate clients in Nash County come to firms like Grayson, Baxter, and Williams, not someone who hangs out a shingle and offers free coffee.”

  Reggie was silent for a few seconds. “I’m just trying to help,” he said.

  “I know. Tell me what the deacons decided.”

  “I’m still the pastor at the church,” he said. “All but one of them understood why I stood by you at the courthouse the other day.”

  “That’s a relief. I needed to hear some good news today.”

  “I hope I didn’t come on too strong, but please, think about what I’ve said,” Reggie continued.

  Adisa thought about Luke’s reaction to an innocent verbal slipup. “No, I know you care.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said. “But it may work out for the best. I guess she wasn’t able to separate who you are and what happened from the color of your skin.”

  “She was so condescending,” Luke said and stopped. “I may have overreacted.”

  “But you had to speak the truth.”

  “And the plea bargain?” he asked. “Whenever I imagine myself caving in and giving up, it causes my stomach to twist into a huge knot.”

  “Mine does the same thing.”

  Luke buried his head in his hands for a moment before looking up. “But I have to talk to Mr. Grayson.”

  Jane placed her right hand on top of Luke’s. “I understand less about the law than you do, and Mr. Grayson knows more than anyone else we can turn to. You should talk to him.”

  “Yeah,” Luke said and nodded.

  Jane continued, “If there’s a way to end this torture without violating your integrity as a man, I want us to consider it. You know, I know, and someday Ashley will know, that her daddy is a good man who would do anything he could for his family. I believe you’re not guilty, but I’m not sure it’s possible for you to get a fair trial in this town. And the unknown terrifies me. You being branded as a criminal makes me so mad I can’t even think about it, but what I believe or wish won’t mean a thing when you face a jury.”

  Luke sighed.

  “Look in my eyes,” she said.

  Luke met the gaze of the only woman he’d ever loved.

  “I am determined with all my heart to support you one hundred percent whatever you do and whatever happens. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes, I do. And that means the world to me.”

  Grayson didn’t return to the office by 5:30 p.m., and Adisa wasn’t ready to talk to him anyway. She ate a quiet supper with Aunt Josie. The older woman wasn’t feeling well, and Adisa kept quiet about the day’s events.

  “I’m going to sleep early,” Aunt Josie said with a yawn.

  “Maybe you should sleep in the guest bedroom,” Adisa suggested.

  The small guest room had only one window with a large oak tree positioned like a rugged shield in front of it.

  “No, I took a nap in there this morning, and my own bed is calling my name,” Aunt Josie replied. “Why would you care where I sleep?”

  “Oh, you mentioned a change of scenery the other day. What would you think about going to spend a week or two with Shanika? You’ve made so much progress with your therapy. I can take care of things around here.”

  “I’m not sure I should be around the children. They’re rambunctious, and Ronnie Jr. doesn’t know his own strength. Shanika called this afternoon and was telling me about all he’s getting into at school. He’s taller than any other boy in his class.”

  Aunt Josie perked up talking about Shanika’s children. Adisa only half listened as she cleared the table and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer.

  “Do you need help taking a shower?” Adisa asked when the older woman finished telling her about the latest antics of the twins.

  “No, I didn’t do anything to get sweaty today, and Simone can help me in the morning after you go to work.”

  Pushing a walker, Aunt Josie slowly made her way to her bedroom.

  “You’re doing great with that!” Adisa called out after her.

  Aunt Josie raised her left hand in the air. “I know where my strength and healing come from,” she replied.

  As soon as the sun went down, Adisa turned on every outside light for the house. She hoped it signaled vigilance to anyone on the outside. She lay down to a fitful night of sleep interrupted by disturbing dreams.

  Grayson’s car was in the parking lot when Adisa arrived the following morning. She marched directly to his office. He smiled in greeting when she entered.

  “Nancy Kate said Luke stopped by yesterday afternoon. How did the meeting go?”

&n
bsp; “Not good,” Adisa said.

  Grayson’s face grew more and more serious as she repeated the conversation. “I should have warned you,” he said when she finished.

  “About what?” Adisa asked.

  “I could tell Luke was getting suspicious of your loyalty after the incident at the courthouse with Reverend Reynolds.”

  “If I were in his shoes, I could see how it might look.” Adisa’s shoulders slumped. “And then I tell him not to have a ‘knee-jerk reaction’ to the DA’s plea offer.”

  “A poor choice of words.”

  Adisa shook her head. “Terrible. I lay awake for over an hour last night playing that over and over in my mind and wishing I could erase the tape.”

  “It’s done,” Grayson replied. “And once a bell is rung, the sound reverberates all over town.”

  “So you’re taking me off the case?”

  “We have no choice.”

  Adisa experienced an odd mixture of embarrassment and relief.

  “You can still assist me behind the scenes,” Grayson continued. “That will be a big help, but I don’t want to go it alone in a high-profile case like this. The deposition yesterday was in Richard Lankford’s office. He asked me how things were going and seemed very interested in what I could tell him. Rick is one of the best young trial lawyers in the circuit.”

  “Do you think he’d take it on pro bono?”

  “No, no,” Grayson replied. “He’s building a law practice, not riding off into the sunset. He would want a sizable fee even if he was second chair at trial.”

  “Can Luke pay the fee?” Adisa asked as much to herself as Grayson.

  The older lawyer leaned forward. “He made a choice yesterday. He’ll either come up with the money or seriously consider the plea bargain.”