Trial of the Century
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Trial Of The Century - Part III free porn video
Theresa considered what the defense team just revealed. She looked at Jessic and then the D.A. She crinkled her nose. She cleared her throat melodically and asked, “Miles, have the police questioned this officer in connection to this murder? Was he even been on their radar?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“I mean. No. None of this was known until this point.”
“Why don’t you get the chief on the horn and have him get his ass over if he isn’t already lurking around? I know word tends to travel in this little town.”
“I’ll call him now,” Miles promised.
“Thank you! I’m going to get Terrill and his folks back in here really quickly. I’m going to have them agree to electronic monitoring of this guy you’ve detained.”
“I didn’t…”
“I don’t mean you personally, Miles. I’m trying not to get frustrated right now.” She slowed her breathing. “I refuse to go to trial with this much reasonable doubt hanging in the air. I’m gonna let this k** go home, but I want active monitoring and I was deputy posted down the street from his house 24-7. I wanna know everything the perp does. When he takes a dump, walks the dog, or puts out the trash. Everything. Tail him when he gets in the car until he returns home. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Let me get Terrill.”
“Thanks for considering what we said, Theresa,” the large man said reservedly for once.
“Don’t mention it. Here’s what I’m willing to do.”
Terrill listened then huddled with his team. The broke up. He announced, “We’ll take it to our client.”
Billy Gray was eager to hear the deal.
“So, you’re gonna be free to go home today,” Terrill started. “You have to agree to wear a trackable ankle bracelet. Their not going to use today’s test results due to possible suspicion of contamination, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get popped again.”
“So I’m not going to jail,” the detainee asked for clarification.
“Not right now. You could in the future if you don’t walk the straight and narrow.”
“That ain’t nothin’!”
“But, it is. You’ve admitted multiple parole violations in a matter of minutes,” Judge Griffiths interjected. “Your best bet is to go home and lay low. Find someone you trust to bring you groceries or fast food. Don’t leave the house. Do not use your phone.”
“I can’t talk to nobody,” Billy Gray wondered.
“We can’t be sure they won’t bug your place or come after you. You’re throwing a cop under the bus,” explained the paralegal.
“She’s right,” added the main lawyer. “Low profile. They’re going to bring your cousin in for questioning and see if he’s a viable suspect. We’ve gotta do a quick deposition. Basically you telling us and the prosecution what you said earlier. They’ve already agreed to give you immunity for any violations in connection with those events. Are you willing to say this on the record?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders.
The court reporter was called. Arrangements were made for the defense to transport Mr. Johnston to the courthouse. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Judge Albritton had approved and wanted Bart to be outside the room readily available for any questions.
After consulting with Sheriff Singleton and the city attorney, the police chief decided to reach out to the suspect on the phone. Getting Coy to come down to the station on his own for questioning would cause less of a scene.
Danny Abbott dialed the number.
“Reynolds,” the officer answered recognizing the number as the county jail.
“Hey, Reynolds. It’s Chief Abbott.”
“Hey, chief! What’s up?”
“I need you to come down to the jail for a few minutes. A couple detectives wanna talk to you about the Evan Barker case.”
“What do they need from me.”
“Just some routine questions.”
“They have the killer, right,” sinewy fellow with ocean blue eyes checked.
“Well, the defendant is in custody,” the chief replied. “They just need to iron out a few details. Can you come over here now.”
“Look, I’m kinda busy. It’s my day off and all.”
“I know. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“How about tomorrow? I’m about to meet Paige and her parents for dinner.”
“I’m kinda hungry myself. What ya having?”
“We’re going to Smokestacks.”
“Enjoy!”
Theresa and Jessica were deciding what to have for dinner. The State was picking up the tab, but they wanted to splurge a bit. They’d heard of nice swanky place about half an hour north. The conference room door swung open. ‘The four stooges,’ thought the senior assistant attorney-general.
Chief Abbott coughed. “He’ll come in tomorrow.”
“I thought we agreed to now,” Theresa looked annoyed.
“Well, ma’am,” the portly white man looked at his shoes.
“I’m up here,” she snapped. “Well what?”
“It’s his day off and he has plans with family.”
“Jessica, correct me if I’m wrong. This man who is too busy to come in is a potential suspect in a murder investigation.”
The second chair nodded her head in agreement with making any facial expression.
“District Attorney Toro, is this how you run your jurisdiction?”
“I didn’t think it would hurt to wait,” Miles offered dryly
“Well, how about I call my boss and Barbara Wooten. I wonder what they’ll think.”
“With all due respect,” the one who had not been introduced said.
“Thank you! Who are you?”
“Steve Kent. Attorney for the city.”
“Thanks, Steve Kent. This is my trial and I say the suspect is picked up now. Do any of you have a problem with that?”
“No, Theresa,” Miles reassured her. He looked at sheriff and then to the chief. “Jock, Danny, can you guys coordinate the pick-up.”
The overweight sixty-something nodded in the affirmative.
The solid Black man with a medium brown complexion and cool, rose undertone answered, “Of course!”
“Toro, can your office order dinner for us? I think it’s best if we ALL stay here for a while,” Theresa pointed collectively at everyone in the room.
The men exited the room with their asses in their hands.
“She’s a piece of work,” chuckled the chief of police.
“A real ball buster,” agreed the city attorney. “I don’t wanna call her a you know what.”
“Then don’t,” Miles asserted. “She’s just doing her job. And she’s got a brilliant mind.”
“Excuse me,” Steve threw up his hands. “I wasn’t trying to be a chauvinist.”
“Steve,” the sheriff warned. “Just be quiet. You’ll do better to go along to get along.”
Theresa fumed. “Am I speaking Greek?”
“Maybe Swahili,” she laughed.
“You’re crazy,” she tossed a pen at her coworker.
“I don’t think they wanna do anything other than get D’Clinton convicted and get us out of town.”
“Of that, I am sure. But this is the kind of stuff appellate courts salivate over.”
Yeah!”
D’Clinton and the other inmates were in a completely different area away from all the commotion of the lawyers and the cops. He went through the dinner line and accepted a tray. It had a soggy, fried pollock fish patty, white rice, and green peas. There was a whole grain roll, two small chocolate chip cookies, and a sports drink mix. As usual, he bartered the contents for items he really wanted. A guard collected him.
D’Clinton ripped into the baby back rib platter with baked beans and coleslaw.
After dinner, they got a little more time in rec area. D’Clinton sat on the floor in between the sissy’s legs getting his hair brushed. “How was yo’ food?”
“It was fine. Yours?”
“Not bad. I’ma get you some chips and cookies from commissary before lights out, bae!”
“Oh my god! Thank you!”
“Dat’s what you be screamin’ tonight when I put dis dick in dat pussy!”
“Promises,” giggled the fag.
“You aight wit’ me, Cass,” he laughed.
“You are too, sexy!”
“Look ovah dere,” D’Clinton turned his head.
“Leave them alone.”
“I ain’t say nuthin’. I just know dat nigga bout to tear that bitch up.”
“True!”
The taller inmate was slender and had his uniform pants rolled up exposing his legs. His skin was a brownish-red color and he wore poofy Afro.
The short guy had broad shoulders, dreads, tatts all over. He spent considerable time lifting weights and it showed. His chest was moments away from popping out of the thin tank top. He pushed the leggy bitch into the wall.
“Owwww,” whined the punk.
“Suck mah dick!”
“Yes, sir,” he knelt.
He had a decent sized dick. The sissy sucked it with expert precision.
“Fuck. Y’all fags give da best head! My girl can’t suck like dis,” he groaned with pleasure.
He pulled the sissy to his feet, turned him around, and forced him against the wall. He slid his thick member in the pussy hole.
“Oh, nigga,” whined the skinny fag.
“Shut up,” he hissed. “Don’t want the pigs makin’ us stop.”
“Fuck me! Oh my god!”
“Take dis dick, bitch!”
He pounded quickly.
“Dis some good pussy,” the buff Negro opined.
“You like it?”
“Hell yeah! You my bitch!”
The tall slut threw his little derriere back into the strokes.
“Ahhhh shit! I’m finna…”
The guy came hard. He pulled out and steam of his nut followed.
Theresa was leaving nothing to chance. She and Jessica rode with the sheriff in his Ford F-150 SSV that was specially outfitted for law enforcement organizations. They trailed the chief and a second police cruiser. A deputy drove behind them.
The only person from the entourage to enter the restaurant was Chief Abbott. He asked the hostess where the Dewey party was seated.
Paige Dewey was busy holding the hand of her handsome, five-foot-nine fiance. She casually tapped his upper arm she laughed at a joke. Her hand was met with the firmness of his lean, muscular physique. Her dad was president of a local bank. She was from the upper crust of the town’s society.
“Hey y’all,” Abbott said. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Hey, chief,” Paige’s father stood to shake his hand. “No bother at all.”
“I just need to borrow Cpl. Reynolds for a minute.”
“I thought it could wait till tomorrow, chief,” he shot his eyes towards the Deweys.
“Actually, it can’t, son. Step over here with me for a second.”
Coy’s face turned red as he got up from his seat.
They walked a few paces. The chief explained that he needed to come down to the jail with him right now. He let him know that he could walk out voluntarily or it could be in handcuffs. “You really don’t wanna cause a scene in front of your sadity in-laws, do you, son?”
“No,” Coy shook his head. “Let me just tell ‘em I gotta take care of something.”
The two men walked out of the BBQ joint without incident.
On the ride, Coy thought back to a night where he and his cousin Billy Gray spit roasted Rosie. Then his mind turned to s**thing shame and guilt he felt for his behavior. But, it had felt so good, he went back again - six times total before he broke it off with her.
Coy remembered freaking out when Rosie told him out of everyone, she felt the most connected to him. That she could see herself running away with him. That she could love him. That he fucked her differently than everyone else. He didn’t know how to deal so he bolted.
Truthfully, he was so scared because the dull, tedious intimacy he shared with Paige was in stark contrast to the exciting, unusual, peppy companionship he knew with Roise.
At the jail, the detectives led the officer into the interrogation room.
“Am I under arrest,” Coy asked as he sat down.
“No, man! We just wanna ask you a few things about your relationship to Evan a.k.a. Rosie Barker,” explained the first investigator.
“Well, fellas,” grinned the hazel-eyed, blond as he leaned forward. “I’m not saying a word without my lawyer.”
“You’re not under arrest.”
“I’m not saying a word till my lawyer gets here.”
“Do we need to call him,” inquired the other detective.
“Nope. I texted him earlier. He’s on his way.”
Coy sat back and closed his eyes. He hated that Rosie was no longer here. The last time he fucked her, they made love. He’d fucked only two other chicks besides Paige - and infrequently. They were both quickies and meant nothing emotionally. But, Rosie. That was something else. Intense. Real. Spiritual.
He’d looked in her eyes as she lay beneath him moaning. “You like this cock,” he asked staring into her soul.
“I love it,” she told him holding onto his strong back.
“I never fucked anybody like this.”
“You mean a trap.”
“Naw, baby I mean like this.”
He rocked his pelvis slowly from side to side pushing in as far as he could go. “Making love,” he groaned.
“Make love to me,” she’d begged.
Afterwards, she held him. He wanted more.
“Reynolds,” a detective broke his concentration. “Can we get you something to drink?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“I mean. No. None of this was known until this point.”
“Why don’t you get the chief on the horn and have him get his ass over if he isn’t already lurking around? I know word tends to travel in this little town.”
“I’ll call him now,” Miles promised.
“Thank you! I’m going to get Terrill and his folks back in here really quickly. I’m going to have them agree to electronic monitoring of this guy you’ve detained.”
“I didn’t…”
“I don’t mean you personally, Miles. I’m trying not to get frustrated right now.” She slowed her breathing. “I refuse to go to trial with this much reasonable doubt hanging in the air. I’m gonna let this k** go home, but I want active monitoring and I was deputy posted down the street from his house 24-7. I wanna know everything the perp does. When he takes a dump, walks the dog, or puts out the trash. Everything. Tail him when he gets in the car until he returns home. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Let me get Terrill.”
“Thanks for considering what we said, Theresa,” the large man said reservedly for once.
“Don’t mention it. Here’s what I’m willing to do.”
Terrill listened then huddled with his team. The broke up. He announced, “We’ll take it to our client.”
Billy Gray was eager to hear the deal.
“So, you’re gonna be free to go home today,” Terrill started. “You have to agree to wear a trackable ankle bracelet. Their not going to use today’s test results due to possible suspicion of contamination, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get popped again.”
“So I’m not going to jail,” the detainee asked for clarification.
“Not right now. You could in the future if you don’t walk the straight and narrow.”
“That ain’t nothin’!”
“But, it is. You’ve admitted multiple parole violations in a matter of minutes,” Judge Griffiths interjected. “Your best bet is to go home and lay low. Find someone you trust to bring you groceries or fast food. Don’t leave the house. Do not use your phone.”
“I can’t talk to nobody,” Billy Gray wondered.
“We can’t be sure they won’t bug your place or come after you. You’re throwing a cop under the bus,” explained the paralegal.
“She’s right,” added the main lawyer. “Low profile. They’re going to bring your cousin in for questioning and see if he’s a viable suspect. We’ve gotta do a quick deposition. Basically you telling us and the prosecution what you said earlier. They’ve already agreed to give you immunity for any violations in connection with those events. Are you willing to say this on the record?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders.
The court reporter was called. Arrangements were made for the defense to transport Mr. Johnston to the courthouse. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Judge Albritton had approved and wanted Bart to be outside the room readily available for any questions.
After consulting with Sheriff Singleton and the city attorney, the police chief decided to reach out to the suspect on the phone. Getting Coy to come down to the station on his own for questioning would cause less of a scene.
Danny Abbott dialed the number.
“Reynolds,” the officer answered recognizing the number as the county jail.
“Hey, Reynolds. It’s Chief Abbott.”
“Hey, chief! What’s up?”
“I need you to come down to the jail for a few minutes. A couple detectives wanna talk to you about the Evan Barker case.”
“What do they need from me.”
“Just some routine questions.”
“They have the killer, right,” sinewy fellow with ocean blue eyes checked.
“Well, the defendant is in custody,” the chief replied. “They just need to iron out a few details. Can you come over here now.”
“Look, I’m kinda busy. It’s my day off and all.”
“I know. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“How about tomorrow? I’m about to meet Paige and her parents for dinner.”
“I’m kinda hungry myself. What ya having?”
“We’re going to Smokestacks.”
“Enjoy!”
Theresa and Jessica were deciding what to have for dinner. The State was picking up the tab, but they wanted to splurge a bit. They’d heard of nice swanky place about half an hour north. The conference room door swung open. ‘The four stooges,’ thought the senior assistant attorney-general.
Chief Abbott coughed. “He’ll come in tomorrow.”
“I thought we agreed to now,” Theresa looked annoyed.
“Well, ma’am,” the portly white man looked at his shoes.
“I’m up here,” she snapped. “Well what?”
“It’s his day off and he has plans with family.”
“Jessica, correct me if I’m wrong. This man who is too busy to come in is a potential suspect in a murder investigation.”
The second chair nodded her head in agreement with making any facial expression.
“District Attorney Toro, is this how you run your jurisdiction?”
“I didn’t think it would hurt to wait,” Miles offered dryly
“Well, how about I call my boss and Barbara Wooten. I wonder what they’ll think.”
“With all due respect,” the one who had not been introduced said.
“Thank you! Who are you?”
“Steve Kent. Attorney for the city.”
“Thanks, Steve Kent. This is my trial and I say the suspect is picked up now. Do any of you have a problem with that?”
“No, Theresa,” Miles reassured her. He looked at sheriff and then to the chief. “Jock, Danny, can you guys coordinate the pick-up.”
The overweight sixty-something nodded in the affirmative.
The solid Black man with a medium brown complexion and cool, rose undertone answered, “Of course!”
“Toro, can your office order dinner for us? I think it’s best if we ALL stay here for a while,” Theresa pointed collectively at everyone in the room.
The men exited the room with their asses in their hands.
“She’s a piece of work,” chuckled the chief of police.
“A real ball buster,” agreed the city attorney. “I don’t wanna call her a you know what.”
“Then don’t,” Miles asserted. “She’s just doing her job. And she’s got a brilliant mind.”
“Excuse me,” Steve threw up his hands. “I wasn’t trying to be a chauvinist.”
“Steve,” the sheriff warned. “Just be quiet. You’ll do better to go along to get along.”
Theresa fumed. “Am I speaking Greek?”
“Maybe Swahili,” she laughed.
“You’re crazy,” she tossed a pen at her coworker.
“I don’t think they wanna do anything other than get D’Clinton convicted and get us out of town.”
“Of that, I am sure. But this is the kind of stuff appellate courts salivate over.”
Yeah!”
D’Clinton and the other inmates were in a completely different area away from all the commotion of the lawyers and the cops. He went through the dinner line and accepted a tray. It had a soggy, fried pollock fish patty, white rice, and green peas. There was a whole grain roll, two small chocolate chip cookies, and a sports drink mix. As usual, he bartered the contents for items he really wanted. A guard collected him.
D’Clinton ripped into the baby back rib platter with baked beans and coleslaw.
After dinner, they got a little more time in rec area. D’Clinton sat on the floor in between the sissy’s legs getting his hair brushed. “How was yo’ food?”
“It was fine. Yours?”
“Not bad. I’ma get you some chips and cookies from commissary before lights out, bae!”
“Oh my god! Thank you!”
“Dat’s what you be screamin’ tonight when I put dis dick in dat pussy!”
“Promises,” giggled the fag.
“You aight wit’ me, Cass,” he laughed.
“You are too, sexy!”
“Look ovah dere,” D’Clinton turned his head.
“Leave them alone.”
“I ain’t say nuthin’. I just know dat nigga bout to tear that bitch up.”
“True!”
The taller inmate was slender and had his uniform pants rolled up exposing his legs. His skin was a brownish-red color and he wore poofy Afro.
The short guy had broad shoulders, dreads, tatts all over. He spent considerable time lifting weights and it showed. His chest was moments away from popping out of the thin tank top. He pushed the leggy bitch into the wall.
“Owwww,” whined the punk.
“Suck mah dick!”
“Yes, sir,” he knelt.
He had a decent sized dick. The sissy sucked it with expert precision.
“Fuck. Y’all fags give da best head! My girl can’t suck like dis,” he groaned with pleasure.
He pulled the sissy to his feet, turned him around, and forced him against the wall. He slid his thick member in the pussy hole.
“Oh, nigga,” whined the skinny fag.
“Shut up,” he hissed. “Don’t want the pigs makin’ us stop.”
“Fuck me! Oh my god!”
“Take dis dick, bitch!”
He pounded quickly.
“Dis some good pussy,” the buff Negro opined.
“You like it?”
“Hell yeah! You my bitch!”
The tall slut threw his little derriere back into the strokes.
“Ahhhh shit! I’m finna…”
The guy came hard. He pulled out and steam of his nut followed.
Theresa was leaving nothing to chance. She and Jessica rode with the sheriff in his Ford F-150 SSV that was specially outfitted for law enforcement organizations. They trailed the chief and a second police cruiser. A deputy drove behind them.
The only person from the entourage to enter the restaurant was Chief Abbott. He asked the hostess where the Dewey party was seated.
Paige Dewey was busy holding the hand of her handsome, five-foot-nine fiance. She casually tapped his upper arm she laughed at a joke. Her hand was met with the firmness of his lean, muscular physique. Her dad was president of a local bank. She was from the upper crust of the town’s society.
“Hey y’all,” Abbott said. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Hey, chief,” Paige’s father stood to shake his hand. “No bother at all.”
“I just need to borrow Cpl. Reynolds for a minute.”
“I thought it could wait till tomorrow, chief,” he shot his eyes towards the Deweys.
“Actually, it can’t, son. Step over here with me for a second.”
Coy’s face turned red as he got up from his seat.
They walked a few paces. The chief explained that he needed to come down to the jail with him right now. He let him know that he could walk out voluntarily or it could be in handcuffs. “You really don’t wanna cause a scene in front of your sadity in-laws, do you, son?”
“No,” Coy shook his head. “Let me just tell ‘em I gotta take care of something.”
The two men walked out of the BBQ joint without incident.
On the ride, Coy thought back to a night where he and his cousin Billy Gray spit roasted Rosie. Then his mind turned to s**thing shame and guilt he felt for his behavior. But, it had felt so good, he went back again - six times total before he broke it off with her.
Coy remembered freaking out when Rosie told him out of everyone, she felt the most connected to him. That she could see herself running away with him. That she could love him. That he fucked her differently than everyone else. He didn’t know how to deal so he bolted.
Truthfully, he was so scared because the dull, tedious intimacy he shared with Paige was in stark contrast to the exciting, unusual, peppy companionship he knew with Roise.
At the jail, the detectives led the officer into the interrogation room.
“Am I under arrest,” Coy asked as he sat down.
“No, man! We just wanna ask you a few things about your relationship to Evan a.k.a. Rosie Barker,” explained the first investigator.
“Well, fellas,” grinned the hazel-eyed, blond as he leaned forward. “I’m not saying a word without my lawyer.”
“You’re not under arrest.”
“I’m not saying a word till my lawyer gets here.”
“Do we need to call him,” inquired the other detective.
“Nope. I texted him earlier. He’s on his way.”
Coy sat back and closed his eyes. He hated that Rosie was no longer here. The last time he fucked her, they made love. He’d fucked only two other chicks besides Paige - and infrequently. They were both quickies and meant nothing emotionally. But, Rosie. That was something else. Intense. Real. Spiritual.
He’d looked in her eyes as she lay beneath him moaning. “You like this cock,” he asked staring into her soul.
“I love it,” she told him holding onto his strong back.
“I never fucked anybody like this.”
“You mean a trap.”
“Naw, baby I mean like this.”
He rocked his pelvis slowly from side to side pushing in as far as he could go. “Making love,” he groaned.
“Make love to me,” she’d begged.
Afterwards, she held him. He wanted more.
“Reynolds,” a detective broke his concentration. “Can we get you something to drink?”
Eisley
- 19.06.2020
- 35
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Trial of the Century Part I
- 2 years ago
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Trial of the Century Part II
- 3 years ago
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