Judge Harper Hills received a phone call around 4 AM. One of his superiors awakened him from his sleep, despite upsetting Harper.

Who in the hell is calling me this early? Didn't they know what time it is?

"Hello."

"Judge Harper, there's something we need you to do."

Judge Harper set up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp on his nightstand, looking over at one of his women that wasn't his wife.

She was sound asleep.

As a matter of fact his wife died ten years before he met that woman. If he was honest with himself he'd admit that she was only a plaything.

Something to kill the time. All of his time was spent getting to know his daughters. He did everything in his power to make sure their mother did not interfere with that.

He was still upset that Lynn didn't tell him that he had daughters. What woman would do that?

And because they love their mother with all their hearts, even though they were mad with her, he wasn't going to come between that.

But right now there were more pressing matters.

"Harper, we're going to appoint you to be the presiding judge over Marcus Johnson's case. And here's what we need you to do to ensure he gets a guilty verdict."

Judge Hill smiled inwardly...

Sealed

CHARLES

Charles always wanted to be a lawyer. Since the age of seven, watching old Murder She Wrote episodes on the television. He knew what he wanted to do. When his father put a football in his hand, bent over in front of him and said, "Down, set...hut!" Charles ran away from all that ass and thought about Angela Lansbury and the direction he wanted his life to go in. It was set in stone. The opposite way.

His mom, sitting on the car hood smoking a cigarette, clad in a silk and heels, laughed her ass off.

Nothing his dad did got him to ever pick up or play with a football ever again. That went for any sport. A man bending over in front of another man turned him with a leather ball turned completely off.

He didn't give a fuck what nobody had to say about it, he didn't give a damn how his daddy intimidated him, he didn't give a fuck how his mama begged him, he didn't give a damn how his cousins felt about it, he didn't give a shit about what his grandparents had to say about it, Charles said fuck football and he focused on becoming a lawyer.

He watched every movie, watched every TV show. Went to the library on his time off from school, during summer school, while on break in school, Christmas break...didn't matter.

He was in the library reading up on anything pertaining to law, family law, Quasi-torts, Court proceedings; he studied it all and it became his passion.

Once he got in high school he joined the marching band. Yes, his father was disappointed, still trying to get him to play football, especially High School football, but his heart was still on Lourdes. But larboard him as well. So he joined the band to do something outside of studying about being a lawyer. He played the drum. Made it to the Drumline. Succeeded.

The only doe eyed chocolate brother in the class.

He would have stayed in the band, but he couldn't learn the music like he knew law.

He was even solving other people's problems when it pertained to law, dealing with the authorities or anything of that nature.

The music teacher asked him why he couldn't learn the music. He thought of watching his mother and his father do things that was against the law and it turned him off.

In addition, he thought about his Desmond, his cousin (a jock) sucking dick in the shadows and then touching on him.

Even though Desmond was younger than him, by a year or so, he remembered one night Desmond stayed the night because his parents was looking after him.

Desmond's mother went out of town on business, she didn't feel comfortable leaving her son home by himself in that big ass house for him to do whatever. Plus, she didn't trust him like that.

Charles wasn't a big fan of Desmond. Because his cousin kept shit going. He was always in the middle of gossip in school. He always started dumb rumors behind Charles's back. He just didn't understand why Desmond liked starting drama.

So when Desmond stayed the night at his house, Charles didn't like that shit at all. So to keep from talking to him, he went to bed early...not knowing that his parents made Desmond sleep in the opposite bed in Charles's room.

Waking up to his cousin Desmond giving him head to the point where he came down his cousin's throat pushed him away forever.

But Desmond had other plans...

His cousin also, mysteriously, inquired about the drum program. He joined the band after he found out that Charles was in it.

Once that happened Charles was all the way turned off from the band.

Then the drum major got caught in a sex scandal. The band teacher caught him having sex with Desmond under the bleachers during a football game and it spread all over the school and eventually the neighborhood.

Desmond was never the same...

_____________________

Surrounded by legal books, Charles had an uphill battle to fight. It was going to take a miracle to beat Marcus murder trial. His gut told him that Alana Mccrary and Anthony Norman were playing dirty. Breaking all code of ethics for a guaranteed win. Trying to make an example out of Marcus. They wanted to harshly prosecute Marcus, with obvious prejudice, to the fullest extent of the law.

He had to find a way to prove it...

They know good and fucking well that this case is bullshit! Witch hunting. Open season on niggas. Marcus should not be tried at all, period.

Abuse of power.

His cell rang.

It was Harry. And he was deeply upset.

"Turn on your TV."

"What Channel?"

"CNN."

Charles turned the TV to CNN. Alana and Anthony held a press conference.

"Oh, no. You conniving bitch!"

Marcus Johnson is a murderous monster. He not only abused inmates and sold drugs in prison, but he allegedly sexually assaulted a veteran inmate by hog tying him, said Alana, clad in a business suit. Her long, curly Indian hair looked frazzled.

Anthony chimed in. "Remember, this is a man that beat his own father into a coma at his high school prom because he found out Marcus was gay. We need him off the streets."

"They are giving the wrong information to the press, Charles. Why are they opting to vilify him...?"

"Classic trial by media. Scraping the bottom of the barrel for anything that sticks."

"Can they do that?"

"No. They aren't supposed to tell the general public anything that could prejudice the case."

Harry said, "Now people are gonna condemn him. He's already guilty in their eyes. And the trial haven't started yet."

"The court of public opinion is a bitch. Look, I have to go. I'll be in touch."

________________

Lord knows that he got on his knees and prayed to Yeshua for guidance. Charles doubted that he'd be ready.

His every waking moment was spent researching and making a list of those that would testify on his behalf. He was even nervous about using Harry.

Contacting his mom, she answered on the first ring...

"Son. I'm at work. Call you when I clock out."

"Okay, ma--"

The line disconnected.

Frustrated, Charles poured a stiff drink, Hennessy with ice and Coca-Cola.

Smoked a blunt to relax. But even that wasn't enough.

Get it together!

He picked up the remote and turned on his stereo. Maxwell it was. Put it at a low volume.

He actually prayed and ordered his steps to the Lord.

In the name of your Son, Yeshua. Help me, Lord!!!

Charles thought to himself.

Lou's father, Bambi, replaced Dime's prescribed Beinhrt pills with a heavier dose of the drug. He was a Pharmacist back then. Filled Dime's prescriptions. Bambi told me that his superiors asked him to switch Allavan with Brienhrt, but Dime was never on Allavan.

Bambi was deeply hurt because he felt like Harry talked his son Lou into the gay lifestyle that killed his NFL dreams.

Every college scout quietly dropped Lou when Harry and Lou came out of the closet during their high school homecoming football game.

And Lou's untimely murder sealed the deal...

Omg, Bambi was guilty and I just helped get him set free...