by India
Knowing enough about lawyers to know they charged a hefty fee, I dropped to my knees and pulled several shoeboxes toward me. Popping the lids on all of them, I began to count the wads of rubber-banded money they housed. The sum was $34,000. I reserved $10,000 for myself, then slid the other boxes back under the bed. That money was all we had to our name. Be that as it may, you better believe I would’ve spent every single dollar to have Ace back home with me.
Subsequent to tossing the money onto the unmade bed, I retreated into my closet to grab a pair of black skinny jeans, a coral blouse, a white blazer, and a pair of black-and-white pinstriped wedges. I unwrapped my hair then contemplated applying makeup, which typically I didn’t wear. But because I’d spent most of the night crying, my eyes were incredibly swollen.
Buzz. Buzz. My cell phone vibrated. I made a mad dash to answer it. “Hello.”
“You have a collect call from a Michigan State inmate,” the operator informed me. I knew it was Ace. “Press one to accept.”
After pressing one, I blinked back a few tears. “Ace, are you okay?”
“I’m good, Janie. Are you okay?” His voice sounded low yet firm.
“I’m a mess, but that’s neither here nor there. I heard about what happened. I want you to know that everything will be okay. Today I’m going out to hire you an attorney.”
“I’m sorry I let this happen to us, Janie.”
“Ace, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry, I got you.” I wanted to wrap my arms around my man so badly, to let him know that we would get through this no matter how long it took.
“One minute remaining,” the operator chimed in.
“Baby, keep your head up and your eyes open.” Because prison was such a treacherous place, I needed him to be focused and stay on his toes. “This will be over soon. You’ll have an attorney by tonight. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, and then there was silence. Our time was up.
My emotions were high. For the entire day, I could’ve sat there and wallowed in sadness. However, there was no time for that. It was time for me to play my position.
My first stop was to an attorney’s office that I’d heard about through other niggas in the hood. Allegedly, he was the go-to guy for street criminals. I certainly hoped he could assist us.
“Welcome to the office of Tom Hanson.” A white clerk smiled from behind the receptionist desk. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t have an appointment, I’m sorry. My boyfriend got into some trouble last night, and we need a lawyer,” I explained.
“Sorry, but we don’t handle domestic violence cases.” She smiled politely.
“What?” I was puzzled. “I’m not here for domestic violence.” I frowned.
“Oh, my goodness! I’m terribly sorry. Please forgive me.” She was beet red, flushed with embarrassment. “I simply looked at your face and saw the swollen eye, so I just assumed . . .” Before going any further, she cut her statement off midstream. I wanted to remind her of what happens when people assume. However, I couldn’t be angry. This woman had no idea I’d been crying my eyes out. More than likely, I would have come to the same conclusion. “Currently, Mr. Hanson is on a call, but if you have a seat, he’ll be with you shortly. What’s your name?” Prepared to type in my information, she turned to the computer.
“Jane Doesher.” I went to have a seat on the plush red lobby furniture but quickly turned around. “Do you have a bathroom?” I was nervous as hell and needed to urinate.
“Sure, it’s down the hall to the left.” She pointed.
On my way down the narrow hallway, there were three offices and one conference room. The place was much larger than it appeared from the waiting area. I was quite impressed with the swank decor. There was a wall covered with pictures of Mr. Hanson and several clients, all of whom were black. Some faces were unfamiliar. For the most part, I did recognize a few athletes and one or two politicians. There were even a few Detroit rappers among the photos. Therefore, I knew this guy was legit. Feeling a bit more assured, I entered the restroom to handle my business.
On the way out, I could hear two men holding a conversation from the office across the hall. They were speaking rather vociferously, so I naturally stopped to listen.
“Tom, why do you continue to utilize your prestigious degree and avail yourself to the scum of Detroit who are thrust your way?”
“Those scum you’re referring to happen to be some of my best clients,” Tom replied.
“Please elaborate and help me understand why these hoodlums have such a powerful grip on you.”
“Andy, you’ll never comprehend this but once you go black, you never go back.” Tom chuckled. However, Andy didn’t seem to find the humor in his declaration. “Listen, it’s simple. On average, black men in Detroit begin committing crimes around the age of fourteen. They are in and out of jail several times before they hit thirty. You know how much I love repeat offenders. Some of these niggers make more money in a week than I will make all year. Hell yes, I’ll represent them all, no matter whose house they shot up, how much dope they found in the car, or whose sister they raped. Most of these niggers come to this office with cases that put me in newspaper headlines. The ‘scum,’ as you referred to them, are the reason my wife lives in her dream home and my mistress drives a Bugatti.”
Tom continued to brag, but I had heard enough. So outraged at what I had just overheard, I left the office without saying one word to the receptionist. I would never be the reason a bastard like Tom continued to live in the lap of luxury.
As I started the car, my cell phone vibrated. It was Bryant. “What’s up?” I asked as I reversed out of my parking spot.
“Hey, Janelle, I was calling to check on you and see if you’re all right.”
“I’ll be better when Ace is out, but I’m good. Thanks for checking on me.” I pulled onto the main street then pondered where to go next. At the moment, I didn’t have any other references for attorneys. Nevertheless, I was determined to find a good one.
“I hear that. Federal cases are out of my league, but let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Thanks for the call as well as your concern, Bryant.” I ended the connection and detected a huge building up ahead and to my left. Seeing the big bold words RICHARD LENNIGAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW, I figured my prayers had been answered.
Speeding hastily down the street, I pulled up to the building, jumped out of the car, and waddled into the front door. This pregnancy thing was for the birds, and I was no near my biggest stage yet.
“Hi, may I help you?” a male secretary asked with a chipper demeanor. Anyone could tell he was gay by the way he applied lip gloss to his puckered lips.
“I need to see an attorney regarding my boyfriend.”
“No problem, girl. Lucky for you Richard has a free calendar this morning. Come on back, boo.” He stood from his seat and I almost died. Dude was rocking spandex pants and red bottom heels. “Girl, can I get you some tea, water, coffee, or pop?” He smacked his lips.
“No, thank you, I’m good.” I smiled politely.
Tap. Tap. He knocked on a large brown door then opened it. “Richard, we have a client here in need of a consultation.” After he escorted me into the office, I took a seat.
“Thank you, Bradley.” The Italian attorney swiveled around in his desk chair to face me. “Sorry about that. He’s my son, God love him.” The attorney laughed.
“No problem. He’s very nice.” Prepared to get right to business, I sat up straight in my seat.
“Well, let’s get started. Tell me what brings you my way,” he said, looking attentive.
“My boyfriend, Anthony, was arrested last night following an FBI drug raid. Currently, he’s being held in federal custody. One hundred kilos of cocaine was recovered.”
Mr. Lennigan jotted down several notes before looking back up at me. “Do you know when his hearing is set?”
“No, I don’t.” I shoo
k my head.
“No problem. If you choose to retain me, I’ll get that information.” He placed his pen down on top of the table.
“Speaking of a retainer, how much do you charge?” I braced myself for the astronomical fee I was confident I would hear. This guy was as fancy as they came in his three-piece custom suit. Therefore, I was convinced he would be expensive.
“My retainer is ten thousand dollars to get started. This allows me to file all of the necessary paperwork on the defendant’s behalf. Additionally, I’d attend the bail hearing, at which point I would request that the defendant be released on bond.”
“So what happens after that?” I was new to this thing and needed to be educated.
“Well, if they agree to let him out on bond, then he’ll come home the same day. On the other hand, should they deny our request, Anthony will remain in prison until the preliminary hearing.”
“What’s a preliminary hearing?” Like a student thirsty for knowledge, I was absorbing as much information as I could.
“It’s simple. A hearing is where the prosecutor must present probable cause to the judge in order to detain the defendant after bail has been denied. If the judge determines there is enough evidence to prove Anthony committed the crime, then he will be ‘held to answer’ or ‘bound over.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “In other words, the prosecutor will offer a plea deal. If Anthony accepts it, he will be bound over to the State to begin sentencing. If Anthony rejects the deal, then he will be given a trial and we will proceed from there.”
“Wow! That’s a lot to take in, but I’m happy you took the time to explain it to me.” I stood and shook his hand.
“It’s no problem at all. I’m here for you and Anthony, day or night. I’ll continuously keep you up to date.” His smile caused me to feel at ease with my decision to hire him.
“Please see Bradley on the way out, and I’ll handle Anthony’s case right away.”
Chapter Fifty
It had been more than seventy-two hours since I’d been sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear something from Ace’s attorney. I was too nervous to attend the bail hearing in person because I couldn’t take another letdown. There was no way I’d be able to lay eyes on my baby and face the reality of him not being able to come home with me.
“Fuck this waiting shit. I say we just call the damn lawyer.” Alicia slammed the refrigerator door. “The hearing was at ten o’clock, and it’s almost two.”
“It’s not that simple.” I sighed. “Sometimes you can be stuck in court all day.” I knew this firsthand from a previous incident with my grandmother. Speaking of Gran, I decided to pick up the phone and give her a call. Our last visit was so good that it kind of had me missing the old bird.
“Praise the Lord,” she answered in her over-sanctified tone.
“Hi, Gran, it’s Janie.” I grabbed the acetone and two cotton balls from the coffee table and began to remove the pink polish from my toes. The polish wasn’t in bad shape. I just needed to kill time and calm my nerves.
“Well, how have you been, missy?” I could tell she was happy to hear from me. As usual, she played hardball. “My congregation has been praying for you and your ways during Sunday morning services.”
“Is that so?” I rolled my eyes.
“The scripture says, ‘For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’ Once God gets involved, the devil has no other choice but to turn you loose and flee,” she preached.
“Gran, I was just calling to say hello and let you know I was thinking about you.” I politely cut her sermon short.
“When can I expect another visit from you?”
“I’ll be there soon, Gran.” I finished removing the polish from my last toe and closed the lid on the acetone.
“Have you been going to your doctor’s appointments?” She was actually concerned, and it shocked me.
“Yes, ma’am. Everything is just as it should be.”
“Good. Good. I can’t wait to meet my great-grandbaby.” I could tell she was smiling, which made me smile. Who knew my pregnancy could bring us closer?
“Me too, Gran. Before I let you go, is there anything you need from the grocery store or pharmacy?”
“No, thank you, Janie,” she declined politely. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon, Gran.” I ended the call then placed my cell phone on the coffee table.
“How is your grandmother?” Alicia flopped down on the sofa beside me.
“She’s good. Still preaching as usual but she’s coming around.” I laughed. “How is your mom?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“Haven’t you spoken to her since the graduation?”
“She promised we would work on our relationship, but when I went by there the other day to see her, Tyrone was there so she wouldn’t let me in.” She looked disappointed. Her mom was one of those women who had to have a man no matter how good, bad, or ugly he treated her. I felt bad for my friend, so I tried to cheer her up.
“I say we blow this popsicle stand and head to the mall, my treat.” I was tired of waiting around the house for the phone to ring.
“Actually, I’d rather stay in and call it a movie night. Let’s order pizza, rent some movies, and go to the store to load up on junk food.” She stretched.
“Okay, I’m good with that.” I stood from the couch. “Let me grab my shoes, and then we can get the party started early.”
As I headed into my room, my phone rang. Alicia grabbed it for me. “Hello? Yes, she’s right here.” She brought it over to me as I held my breath.
“Richard, what happened?” In order for Alicia to hear the conversation, I put the phone call on speaker.
“Well,” he sighed. Right then and there, I knew this wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “They denied bond but offered Anthony a plea deal of five years.”
“Whew!” I blew out an audible breath. Five years was a drop in the bucket. Hell, he may even get out earlier for good behavior.
“Janelle, I regret to inform you that Anthony rejected the deal and wants to take his chance at trial.”
“What?”
“He wants to go to trial.” Richard sighed again, which told me he didn’t feel Ace had chosen correctly.
“When does his trial start?”
“The State’s caseload is backed up right now. It could be years before this case goes to trial, but I’ll do my best to expedite the process.”
“Okay, but if he’s found guilty, what’s the worst-case scenario?” I leaned against the wall for support.
“The charge he’s facing carries a maximum sentence of forty years and a minimum of twenty.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone as he awaited my response. It felt as if someone had just snatched the air from my lungs. I attempted to gather my thoughts and form a sentence. However, the only audible sounds coming from my body were sobs. Alicia took the phone and explained to Richard that I would call him back. He apologized and expressed his understanding.
“What am I going to do without him?”
“Janelle, we’ll get through this.”
“My man is never coming back?” I slid down the wall. Alicia sat on the floor beside me. “What about our wedding? What about the baby? Who am I supposed to be with now? No one loved me like Ace! Nobody loves him like me!”
“I don’t know what to say right now to make you feel better, sis.” Alicia was now wiping her own tears.
“I need to go lie down.” I stood from the floor and retreated into my room, where I stayed for almost a month.
Chapter Fifty-one
I heard somewhere that real niggas shed tears. Even so, I had been crying for too long. Enough was enough! The pity party I was having was pathetic. It was taking a toll on my body. Although I was six months pregnant, my body weight was less than it was before I conceived. I rarely ate, and when I did, it came back up. My hair was thin from worryin
g and there were bags underneath my eyes from lack of sleep. Day after day I worried myself sick about Ace. Night after night I cried myself to sleep because I hadn’t heard from him. I’d been writing him letters since his first week behind bars. However, I never received any correspondence back from him. I had even gone downtown to visit him, only to discover I wasn’t on his visitation list. I wasn’t sure what the deal was, but there had to be a great explanation.
For now, I determined it was time to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get back to grinding. My money stash was decreasing. That meant I had to get back in the streets and come up with some sort of get-rich-quick scheme in order to keep Richard Lennigan as our defense attorney. He would be Ace’s best chance at a fair trial. By any means necessary, I had to keep him on payroll. Of course, my heart was aching. I could’ve stayed in bed forever. No matter what, he was my nigga and I was his bitch. Determined not to let him down, I put my own feelings on the back burner and pressed forward.
Without hesitation, I swallowed my pride and made a call to Uncle Chucky. He told me to come right over.
“What’s up, Janelle?” As I stepped into the foyer of his home, he greeted me with a Newport cigarette dangling between his lips. There were still hard feelings between us. Neither one of us really wanted to address the matter just yet. Therefore, we let the issue rest for now.
“Those cancer sticks will be the death of you one day, old man,” I joked.
“Better cancer than one of these fuckin’ niggas.” He inhaled then exhaled a puff of white smoke.
“I hear that.” We both chuckled. “Thanks for taking the meeting with me, Unc.”
I followed him to the den, which was at the back of the house. The home reminded me of something straight from the pages of an Ikea catalogue. Everything was black, white, and red. The place was clean-cut and modern. Yet, the decor felt cold and uninviting. It also lacked a woman’s touch. Chucky’s wife, Vivian, left him exactly one month after their wedding. I was just a kid back then but I distinctly remember my mother telling one of her friends that Vivian left because he was abusive.