"How much pressure can we put on him?" I asked.
Tyree looked at me. "Let me do the talking first. Feel him out. If he pushes back, you step in. But be smart about it."
We walked into the courthouse and went through security. My phone got flagged but they let it through after checking. We made our way to Judge Atkinson's chambers on the third floor. His secretary - a woman who looked like she'd been working there since the courthouse was built, she greeted us and told us the judge would see us in just a moment.
That's when Tatti squeezed my hand. I looked at her and she was calm. Ready. She knew what was about to happen.
The door opened and Judge Atkinson stood up from behind his desk. He was older, maybe late-fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and the kind of face that had seen too much. His chambers were traditional. He had wood paneling, leather chairs, law books everywhere. This was a man who respected formality.
"Tyree," the judge said warmly, coming around the desk to shake his hand. "Good to see you."
Then his eyes moved to me and Tatti. He studied us for a moment, then a small smile crossed his face.
"Congratulations on becoming a new bride," he said, reaching out to shake Tatti's hand. "You look absolutely beautiful and best wishes on your union.”
Tatti smiled gracefully. "Thank you, Your Honor. I appreciate that."
The judge gestured for us to sit in the leather chairs across from his desk. He settled back into his chair, his hands folded in front of him. For a moment, he just looked at us. He looked like he was trying to figure out what angle we were working.
"I want to start by saying," Judge Atkinson began, "I don't typically entertain these kinds of informal meetings. But Tyree here has been a friend for a long time, and yes, I do owe him a favor. So I agreed to hear what you have to say about your brother's case. But I want to be clear - this doesn't change procedure. This doesn't change the law. This is just a conversation."
"Understood, Your Honor," I said, my voice steady and respectful. "I appreciate you taking the time." I said, knowing that right now, I had to put on the biggest act. Being a streetnigga wasn’t going to get me anywhere today. I had to play it cool.
The judge nodded and leaned back in his chair. "So. Tell me what's on your mind."
I didn't hesitate. I'd prepared this, gone over it a hundred times in my head.
"Your Honor, my brother Zaire Carter is currently being held on a charge of murder," I started, keeping my tone measured and professional. "A crime for which there is no body, just a missing person whom my brother has never had no real ties to. There is no physical evidence connecting him to any alleged crime. There is no credible witness testimony. What exists is an unverifiable statement from an unnamed source that hasn't been corroborated by any investigative findings from my knowledge.”
I leaned forward slightly, keeping my eyes on the judge.
"The prosecution's case is BS, pardon my French.” I continued. "Under the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure and Texas Code of Criminal Procedure, a defendant cannot be held based solely on hearsay testimony. Rule 801 of the Texas Rules of Evidence excludes hearsay unless it falls under a specific exception. Without a body, without evidence, without a credible witness who can be cross-examined, there is no case." I said, talking my shit. I’d done research and memorized this shit word for word.
The judge's expression shifted. He wasn't expecting this level of legal knowledge.
"Furthermore," I said, "my brother's Sixth Amendment rights are being violated. He has the right to a speedy trial. He's been incarcerated pending trial for way too long without anymeaningful progress. The discovery is incomplete. There's been no preliminary hearing that actually tested the state's evidence. And most recently, he was stabbed in prison - an assault that proves the state cannot protect him while he's in their custody. And I’ve been cool, I’ve been patient, but now it’s getting out of hand, and I’m hoping that you will be on the side of what you know to be right.”
I sat back slightly, letting that land.
"That stabbing is a changed circumstance," I said. "It's grounds for an immediate bail review if not dismissal of all of this. My brother should not be held in a facility where the state has demonstrated an inability to protect him from violence. Not to mention again, he shouldn’t even be in there.”
Judge Atkinson was watching me now with real interest. He glanced at Tyree, then back to me.
"You've done your homework," the judge said quietly.
"I have. I am my brothers voice while he doesn’t have one.” I responded. "And with all due respect, Your Honor, I don't understand how my brother is still being held. The case has no foundation. The evidence is non-existent. The witness is unidentified and uncorroborated. And now the state has proven it can't even keep him safe."
The judge was quiet for a moment, considering.
"Look," he said finally, "I hear what you're saying. And you're not wrong about the weaknesses in the case. But there is a process. The DA filed charges based on information provided to them. It's not my place to second-guess their investigation."
"With respect, Your Honor," Tyree jumped in, "it is your place to ensure that detention is warranted under the law. The burden is on the state to prove probable cause. In this case, they haven't met that burden."
The judge nodded slowly. "You're right. And I will look into this more carefully. But this isn't something I can decide in thirty minutes. I need time to review the file, review the discovery, and examine what the state actually has."
"How much time?" I asked.
"Give me a week," the judge said.
