Deborah Fletcher Mello - A Stallion Dream

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.”