A Stallion Dream Read online

  When he hadn’t been fighting for the rights of those most marginalized and disenfranchised, he’d been a respected automotive repair technician working at a local garage. He had also been a loving husband and father, living a blessed life, with the house, dog and picket fence. Things had turned for him when his wife, a beloved schoolteacher, was found murdered in their bed. He’d been convicted of that murder, despite more evidence pointing to his innocence than his guilt. It had been a miscarriage of justice of monumental proportions.

  Collin had studied the detailed police reports. The couple had just celebrated their twelfth wedding anniversary. They were also anxiously awaiting the birth of their third child. James had left for work early that day, kissing his wife goodbye as she’d slept. Later that morning, Mary James’s body was found in their bedroom. She’d been sexually assaulted and bludgeoned to death. Despite no tangible evidence, the prosecution had argued he’d raped and murdered his wife after an argument. Months later, James had been convicted of the crime, sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Years of appeals and a mountain of discovery had since turned up potentially exculpatory evidence pointing to Mr. James’s innocence that the prosecution had concealed. Now Jerome James was getting a second chance at justice.

  Collin hadn’t known what to expect as they checked in and proceeded through the prison’s inner maze to the visiting room where they waited for their client. London had briefed him on the case’s procedural tactics that she had been personally involved in overseeing, and there was an air of pride in her voice as she detailed the decisions she’d been proudest of making.

  “Our original motion for DNA testing on items of evidence from the crime scene omitted a bloody towel that had been found in the woods behind the family home. Unfortunately, those tests could not exclude Mr. Jerome as the source of the DNA collected from the bed.”

  “Why was the towel not included?”

  “A previous attorney on the case missed adding it to the evidence list when the motion was filed.”

  “And that was three years ago, correct?”

  “Yes, the motion that was filed most recently includes that towel and I’m willing to bet the tests will prove conclusively that he didn’t harm his wife. That someone else was present in the family bed.”

  Before Collin could respond, the heavy iron door swung open and Jerome James was ushered inside. He was a big bear of a man, years of prison yard work and cell-block weight training having sculpted his body into hard lean muscle. With his salt-and-pepper hair and full beard, he looked very distinguished, and entered with an air of confidence that actually surprised Collin. He gave the younger man a nod, eyeing him with interest.

  The guard gestured for him to take a seat, and after securing his handcuffs to the chain bolted in the center of the table, he exited the room and closed the door behind him. Mr. James shifted his gaze toward London.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Jacobs. To what do I owe the honor? I was actually surprised when they moved me.”

  London sat down, placing her hands atop his. “You’ve been granted a new trial, Mr. James. The state of Texas has set aside your original verdict and we’re going to be able to present your case with the evidence that wasn’t included in the first trial.”

  Mr. James said nothing, seeming to ponder the information for a good few minutes. Then he nodded his head and turned his attention on Collin. “And who might you be, young man?”

  Collin dropped into the seat beside London. “Collin Stallion, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Collin will be sitting second chair on your case,” London interjected. “He just recently joined the Pro Bono Partnership.”

  “Where’d you go to school?” Mr. James questioned.

  “I graduated from Harvard, sir.”

  “Why didn’t you go to a historically black college or university? Our HBCUs don’t get nearly enough recognition or love.”

  “Legacy, sir. Both my parents were Harvard alum.”

  The old man eyed him intently. “Stallion? Who’s your father, son?”

  “Matthew Stallion, sir.”

  There was a moment as Mr. James appeared to be searching his thoughts. After a minute or two of reflection he simply nodded his head. He turned his attention back to London. “Would you please get a message to my son? Tell him I’m here, please. Hopefully, he’ll be able to come see me now that I’m closer.”

  “We can call your daughter, too, if you’d like,” London said.

  The man shook his head. “My Jackie lives in New York now. She has a good job with some fashion company there. I don’t want y’all upsetting her. I’m sure her brother will tell her whatever needs to be told.”

  “Yes, sir,” London said. “Do you have any questions for us, Mr. James?”

  He shook his head, his expression blank.

  London nodded. Rising from her seat, she knocked on the door, and the guard responded almost immediately. “We will probably be back sometime early next week,” she said. “If you need anything before then, just call.”

  Mr. James nodded. “Just get that message to my son. I don’t need anything else.”

  The guard gestured for them to leave. Mr. James called after Collin.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Please, tell your father hello for me.”

  * * *

  “He wasn’t excited,” Collin said, the words spoken aloud before he could catch them.

  London cut an eye in his direction.

  He eyed her back, his shoulders shrugging slightly. “I thought he would have been more excited.”

  She blew a soft sigh. “The first time I met him I thought the same thing. But when you think about it, for the last thirty-two years he’s known nothing but disappointment. His wife dies. He’s barely able to grieve before he’s being accused of her murder. The trial was a travesty. He’s convicted and incarcerated. He loses his children. Every countermotion his defense team made either failed or was rejected. And now we’re going to make him relive it all again, with no assurances of a different outcome. Unfortunately, he’s a black man in a judicial system that doesn’t value his life. When you consider the odds are stacked against him, and us, he can’t afford to be excited. If we lose, he could very well be given the lethal injection this time.”

  Collin nodded. “Sounds like you and I have our work cut out.”

  “You and I will not lose this case and I don’t care what it takes,” she said emphatically.

  He met the look she tossed him, her eyes slightly misted. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he said.

  “I haven’t eaten anything today,” she said. “If you don’t have plans, why don’t we grab some lunch? I know you’ve been through most of the files already and I can answer your questions and fill in any blanks for you.”

  “I’d like that,” Collin said. “I would like that a lot.”

  She smiled. “Don’t get too excited, Stallion. I plan to grill you, too. I need to see what you do and don’t know.”

  * * *

  His father was in his office poring over a mountain of paperwork when Collin entered the family home. It was late, and his mother and brother were already in bed. Matthew looked up from what he was doing and gave his son a quick nod of his head.

  “Hey there! You’re keeping some late hours!”

  “Working on a case. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

  Matthew leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together in his lap. “So, how are things going with your new job?”

  “I like it. I really like it a lot. Met my client today. Apparently, he knows you. He asked me to tell you hello.”

  “Really? Who is he?”

  “Jerome James. He’s been incarcerated for the murder of his wife. He’s been granted a new trial and I’m going to be sitting second chair.�
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  Matthew’s eyes dropped as he fell into thought. When he looked back up Collin was eyeing him curiously. He gave his son a slight smile. “Jerome and his wife, Mary, went to school with us. Jerome graduated with your uncle John and Mary graduated with me. Back in the day we were big supporters of the causes Jerome took up. Even marched the streets with him a time or two. He was a good man. Everything about that case was tragic.”

  “The case file reads like a witch hunt.”

  “The racial climate back then was rough, and Jerome loved to make waves. He was not popular with the local police or the politicians. He wanted change and he fought hard to make that happen. Remind me, who was the original prosecutor?”

  “Victor Wells.”

  “Newly appointed Texas Supreme Court Justice Victor Wells?”

  Collin nodded. “The one and only. Do you know him?”

  Matthew nodded. A look of foreboding washed over his expression. The same look that Collin had seen on London’s face when they had first discussed the case and Wells’s name had been mentioned. It had given Collin pause and when he’d asked about it she’d dismissed him, insisting that there wasn’t anything amiss that he needed to be concerned with. “Yes, I do,” Matthew finally answered.

  “Is there something about Justice Wells that I should know?” Collin questioned.

  Matthew hesitated for a quick second as if there was more that he wanted to say, but he didn’t elaborate. He just shook his head no.

  “Any advice?”

  “Just be smart and make sure you do your due diligence. And no matter what happens, do not be intimidated.”

  Collin nodded as his father continued.

  “Who’s your first chair?” Matthew asked.

  “Attorney London Jacobs. She’s been with the initiative for a few years and litigating their big cases for the last two years.” Collin’s eyes were bright, his entire face lifting with the smile that spread from ear to ear. He thought back to his day and the shift in her attitude toward him between breakfast and lunch. She’d been exceptionally open and forthcoming as they’d discussed the case. She’d asked his opinion and had seemed genuinely interested in his answers. An encounter that had started out tensely had transitioned nicely to a pleasant exchange.

  Matthew smiled back. “I know Ms. Jacobs. She’s quite impressive. Jerome will be well served.”

  “I think we’re going to be a great team,” Collin said, a hint of excitement in his tone.

  His father nodded, his head bobbing up and down slowly. He stared at his oldest child but said nothing, bemusement painting his expression.

  “What?” Collin asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  Matthew shook his head. “Nothing, son. Nothing at all.”

  Chapter 3

  London was pleasantly surprised by Collin’s work ethic. He asked questions she hadn’t expected, even giving her reason to pause as she pondered a few of his suggestions. He was formidable, and it was apparent he was as dedicated to Mr. James’s interests as she was.

  She hadn’t expected to like him as much as she did. She found herself looking forward to seeing him when she arrived at the office. Since that first lunch, they’d eaten lunch together a few times, that hour of personal time quickly becoming the highlight of her day.

  When he burst through the door of her office, his excitement was palpable. “We got the DNA tests back!” he exclaimed, waving the file over his head. He passed her the manila folder, reciting the results as she flipped through the documents. “According to the lab, the DNA on the towel belonged to Mary James and an unknown male. It was also a perfect match to the DNA from the sperm left on the bedsheets. They’re running it through the CODIS database now to see if we can get a hit and hopefully a name. Keep your fingers crossed, but I think we just got the big break in the case we needed.”

  London pumped a fist, her own excitement spreading across her face. She squealed with glee, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms and jump for joy. “Yes, yes, yes!” she exclaimed. “Make sure you add this to our evidence list. We’ll need to send copies over to the prosecutor’s office, as well. Full disclosure. I don’t want them making any claims about our impeding their due process.”

  “I already took care of it,” he answered. “I also filed a Public Information Act request. I want to get a look at what other documents were in the prosecution’s file that might have been withheld at the time of his trial.”

  “You think there’s something there that can help us?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling I have.”

  London nodded. “I trust your instincts, Counselor.”

  Collin crossed his arms over his broad chest. “A compliment. I’m touched!”

  London laughed, “An attorney with jokes!”

  “One or two,” he teased.

  She shook her head. “You available for lunch later?”

  “I actually need to go down to the courthouse and then the law library. Are you by chance available for dinner?”

  Her eyebrows lifted, a hint of surprise tinting her cheeks. “D-dinner? I’m not... Well... I don’t...” she stammered.

  “It’s just dinner, London. We’ve had lunch together every day for the past few weeks. Dinner would be no different.”

  She rolled her eyes skyward. “The question surprised me is all. I don’t usually...”

  He stalled her comment. “What? You don’t usually eat dinner? Do you have something against the evening meal?” His expression was smug as he eyed her intently, the invitation still hanging heavily between them.

  “I would love to have dinner with you,” she said finally.

  Collin grinned. “I can pick you up at seven.”

  “Why don’t I meet you?” she answered. “I think that would be more appropriate.”

  Collin laughed, “Whatever you say, Counselor.”

  “What about Jimmy’s Food Store?”

  “We’re doing dinner, not lunch, Ms. Jacobs. Let’s say Truluck’s on McKinney Avenue at seven. I’ll call and reserve us a table.”

  London thought to argue but Collin was out the door before she could respond. She took a step after him, suddenly thinking that dinner might be a mistake, but before she could follow after him and cancel, Perry was summoning her to a meeting. As she headed in that direction, two thoughts crossed her mind. This dinner is a huge mistake. And what the hell am I going to wear?

  * * *

  Paula and Felicia were pulling clothes out of London’s closet like they were shopping at Premium Outlets’s bargain basement sale. Dresses were flying from one side of the bedroom to the other, all landing in the center of her queen-size bed, if not on the floor.

  “You can never go wrong with a little black dress,” Paula said.

  Felicia jumped up and down excitedly. “How about that lace number you bought for that thing last year with what’s his name that you backed out of at the last minute? You know which dress I’m talking about,” she said, looking from London to Paula.

  Paula laughed. “I am deeply disturbed that I do know exactly what dress you’re talking about,” she said as she rushed back to the closet, searching frantically through London’s wardrobe. “The black lace, slightly off the shoulder, that stopped at her knees. That dress was hot!”

  “I am not wearing black lace!” London exclaimed, eyeing them both like they’d lost their minds. “This is not a date.”

  “Like hell it isn’t!” Felicia exclaimed. “Dinner at Truluck’s Seafood Steak and Crab House is definitely a date.”

  “Dinner with a man that fine is definitely a date!” Paula added.

  London reached for her cell phone. “That’s it. I’m canceling,” she said as she began to scroll through her contact list.

  Felicia snatched the device from her hands. “You’re doing no such t
hing.”

  “Why in the world would you cancel?” Paula asked, finally laying her hands on that black lace. She held the dress up for the other two to see. “Now, this is special!”

  London shook her head. “Oh, hell no! I am not wearing that dress and I don’t care how cute it is. That is not the impression I’m trying to make. I’m wearing a suit.”

  Felicia shrugged. “You might be right. That dress says you want to get laid. But then again—” she pretended to slap her forehead before continuing “—you do want to get laid!” she laughed heartily.

  London was not amused, and she said so. “You’re not helping!”

  Paula held up a second dress. “This is what you’re wearing,” she said. “This is perfect!”

  The other two women turned to stare. Paula held up a form-fitting sheath dress in a simple floral print with the neckline, sleeves and hem piped in black. It was simple, elegant and a favorite of London’s that she had yet to wear, the price tag still hanging from the dress label at the zipper.

  “Very pretty!” Felicia exclaimed.

  London nodded. “That’s not bad. That might work.”

  “You need to get dressed,” Paula admonished. “It’s already six o’clock and you’re going to hit traffic with your luck.”

  Thirty minutes later London stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring her reflection. Felicia had twisted her natural hair into an updo that flattered her slight frame and Paula had perfected her makeup, adding just enough color to her face to brighten her eyes and give her a less casual appearance. Her two besties stood huddled together like proud parents sending her off to the prom. They were teary eyed and emotional, and they made her laugh.

  “You’re going to blow him away,” Felicia said.

  “You look fabulous!” Paula added.

  “You two really need to get yourselves a life,” London said, her cheeks a brilliant shade of bright red.

  Paula laughed with her. “We’re living vicariously through you.”

  “Which is why you need to get you some tonight,” Felicia added. “I put condoms in your purse, just in case.”