"He's innocent," Elijah had replied, standing his ground. "A plea deal gives him a felony record for something he didn't do."
"Court isn't a movie, kid," Carter had said firmly, turning away. "Belief doesn't win trials. Evidence does."
"Then I'll get the evidence," Elijah had called after him.
From that moment, Elijah had taken complete control of his brother's defense. He spent seventy-two hours straight combing through local county regulations, canvassing the neighborhood where the alleged crime took place, knocking on doors, and meticulously studying Georgia criminal procedure laws to ensure he could legally represent his brother under state lay-representation rules. Back in the courtroom, the clerk officially announced the proceeding: "State of Georgia versus Isaiah Carrington."
Prosecutor Andrea Lindholm stood up, adjusting her jacket. Her presentation was smooth, polished, and practiced.
"Your Honor," Lindholm began, gesturing toward the prosecution table. "The state will demonstrate that on the night of August 14th, the defendant, Isaiah Carrington, entered the residence of Mrs. Wanda Freeman without authorization with the intent to commit a theft. Acting on an anonymous emergency tip, Officer Paul Haskins dispatched to the area and spotted the defendant leaving the scene. Upon conducting a traffic stop, Officer Haskins observed a stolen flat-screen television and two laptops inside the vehicle. When ordered to step out, the defendant actively resisted arrest and attempted to flee before being apprehended. The state submits that probable cause is abundantly clear."
Prosecutor Lindholm sat down, confident that her short opening statement was more than enough for a simple preliminary hearing.
Judge Tolbert looked over at Elijah. "Does the defense have an opening statement, or do you wish to move directly to witness testimony?"
"We reserve our opening statement, Your Honor," Elijah said calmly, standing up. "However, we request permission to cross-examine the state's primary witness."
"Very well," Tolbert said. "Prosecution, call your witness."
Lindholm stood. "The State calls Officer Paul Haskins."
From the front row of the gallery, Officer Haskins stood up and adjusted his duty belt. He was a broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties, possessing a commanding physical presence and a voice accustomed to authority. He walked to the witness stand, took the oath, and sat down, casting a dismissive glance toward Elijah.
Prosecutor Lindholm walked Haskins through his direct examination. Haskins reiterated his report: he received a tip, saw the car, pulled it over, saw the stolen items, and arrested Isaiah after a brief struggle.
"Thank you, Officer. Your witness," Lindholm said, returning to her seat.
Elijah stood up from the defense table. He picked up his legal pad and walked slowly toward the podium. His father's oversized suit jacket swung slightly around his frame, but his demeanor was unflappable.
"Officer Haskins," Elijah began, his voice clear. "Please state your full name and badge number for the record."
Haskins frowned, clearly irritated by being questioned by a teenager. "Are you serious?" he muttered.
"Please answer the question, Officer," Elijah said evenly.
"Officer Paul Haskins, Badge 412," he snapped.
"Thank you. Now, Officer Haskins, in your sworn report, you stated that you conducted a traffic stop on my brother's vehicle at precisely 11:42 PM on the night of August 14th. Is that correct?"
"That's what the report says," Haskins said, crossing his arms.
"And you stated that you received an anonymous tip regarding a burglary in progress five minutes prior to that stop, at 11:37 PM. Did you log that tip with dispatch?"
"No. It came directly over the local channel, or I heard it from a pass-by. Things move fast in the field."