Baltimore Chronicles (2 page)

Derek put his daughter down and grabbed his wife around her waist from the back. He inhaled the scent of her strawberry shampoo and tucked her hair behind her ear so he could kiss the smooth skin of her neck.

She smiled. “Hey, hey…you have to wait for all of that,” she sang, putting her stirring spoon down and turning to greet her heroic husband properly.

“Well, hurry up and feed these rugrats so I won't have to wait too long,” Derek whispered in her ear. He could feel his nature rising. After almost ten years of marriage, he was still attracted to his wife like they had just begun dating. He never grew tired or bored with her, and it was a plus that she kept herself looking right with regular manicures, pedicures, and facials. In his line of work, divorce was rampant, but Derek and Tiphani had stood the test of time. Derek was grateful to have a partner who understood that sometimes his work had to come first, and he gave her the same respect.

After dinner, Derek tucked the kids into bed while Tiphani cleaned up the dishes. As soon as the little ones drifted off, Derek sneaked back downstairs and watched his wife's sexy frame move around the kitchen. Derek was in awe of her beautiful, flawless caramel skin, her almond-shaped eyes, and beautiful hourglass figure.

He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed her roughly, lifting her off her feet.

“Wait, silly. Let's go upstairs,” she said with a giggle.

“I can't wait anymore. Seeing your ass in them jeans got me on rock!” Derek exclaimed, fumbling with the button on her jeans. She acquiesced, throwing her hands around his neck. Derek hoisted her onto their granite countertop and yanked off her jeans, pulling her black lace thong off with them. He inhaled, excited by the sight of her beautifully trimmed triangle. “Fuck…you look so damn good! I missed you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to contain himself.

Tiphani licked her fingers seductively and rubbed her clitoris, causing it to swell slightly. Derek had finally got his own pants off. His medium-sized member stood at full attention. He was a firm believer that it wasn't the size that mattered; it was what you did with what you had that made all the difference. Derek began licking the inside of her thighs.

“Ahh,” Tiphani grunted, throwing her head back. Derek teased around her thighs until she put her hand on his head and forced it between her legs. He stuck his tongue out and licked her clit softly. Tiphani slid her hot box toward his tongue in ecstasy. “I want you,” she whispered.

At that, Derek lifted his head, grabbed his dick, and drove it into his wife's soaking wet opening with full force. She let out a short gasp as Derek dug further into her flesh. Tiphani dug her nails into his shoulders. He began to pump harder.

Suddenly, something happened. Derek recoiled slightly. Tiphani closed her legs around his back, trying to keep him inside her. She was hoping that it didn't happen again.

“Urgghhh!” Derek growled, collapsing.

Tiphani slouched her shoulders and lowered her head. He had finished less than two minutes after he had started.

“Fuck!” he cursed himself, his cheeks flaming over with embarrassment. “I'm so sorry, baby. I was just so excited to feel you,” Derek said, making excuses for his shortcomings.

“I know you were just excited. That shit was still good, baby,” Tiphani consoled as she hugged him.

“Did you at least cum?” Derek asked.

Is he fuckin' kidding me with that question?
Tiphani screamed silently in her head. “Hell yeah, baby. You know I cum as soon as you touch me,” she lied as she hugged him and hid her face. Derek continued to apologize, and she continued to console him.

This shit is so out of control right now!
Tiphani thought as she rolled her eyes behind Derek's back. It wasn't like he came fast and stayed hard where he could please her too. After his nut, he was a goner, leaving her unsatisfied and royally pissed the fuck off.

Derek didn't know if she was telling the truth, but he did know that his premature ejaculation was starting to become a problem.

It had been three months since the raid, and the day had finally come. Security was tight as Derek walked up to the courthouse. He could hardly make it to the steps because there were so many reporters and spectators outside. Scar's impending trial had been in the news for weeks. There had even been a countdown of sorts. The media had dubbed it the Trial of the Year. When some of the media hounds noticed Derek, they almost trampled each other to be the first to get a statement from him.

“Detective Fuller, are you nervous to face the notorious Scar Johnson?” a reporter called out, shoving a microphone into Derek's face.

“Are you kidding me with that question? If I wasn't nervous to bring him down in his own hood, why would I be nervous about facing him in a court of law?” Derek replied, giving the reporter a bit of heat. After he set the media straight, Derek smoothed the front of his Brooks Brothers suit and continued his stride up the courthouse steps.

It was no better inside the courtroom. There were throngs of cameras and reporters lined up around the back and sides. Derek sat on the bench directly behind the prosecutor's table and looked around. He could feel more than one pair of icy eyes on him. There were numerous members of Scar's crew peppered throughout the courtroom crowd, and they weren't hiding their glares. Derek didn't care because it just added to the drama of the scene and made him look better.

Derek turned around just in time to see the court officers leading Scar to the defendant's table. Scar had a huge smile plastered on his face, and he stared directly at Derek.

Knowing that all eyes would be on him, Derek frowned at Scar and shook his head. “Ain't this a bitch?” Derek mumbled when he noticed that Scar donned an expensive Armani suit, complete with a tailor-made French cuff shirt with diamond cuff links, and to top it off, what looked to be an authentic Cuban cigar sticking out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

Scar looked down at his suit and back over at Derek. Speaking with his eyes and facial expression, Scar was letting Derek know that he was still the man, regardless of the bust.

“All rise. The honorable Judge Irvin Klein presiding in the matter of the State of Maryland versus Stephon Johnson,” the court officer called out. Everyone in the courtroom stood.

Derek broke his gaze on Scar, turned around, and stood as the judge slid into his seat on the bench.

With a bang of his gavel, the judge started the highly anticipated court proceedings. An eerie hush fell over the courtroom, and all eyes were front and center.

“Is the state ready to present its case? If so, prosecutor Fuller, you may begin,” Judge Klein stated.

On cue, the prosecutor, who Derek thought was the most beautiful, sexy caramel specimen of a woman he had ever laid eyes on, stood up to start.
My wife is not only beautiful, she is on point. She got this shit,
Derek thought to himself, smiling proudly. She moved her sexy frame from behind the table and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Scar's defense lawyer, a shark named Larry Tillman, jumped to his feet.

“Your Honor, I would like to move to have this case dismissed immediately,” Mr. Tillman announced.

Everyone in the courtroom was looking at him like he was crazy. Not only was he interrupting the prosecutor, he was stepping on the toes of one of the most hard-ass judges in the Maryland court system. Hushed murmurs passed amongst the onlookers.

“Mr. Tillman, you will speak when spoken to,” Judge Klein said.

“Your Honor, with all due respect, I am requesting to approach the bench,” Mr. Tillman said.

Prosecutor Fuller looked around, confused. She was seething mad. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She ran her hands over her skirt and cocked her head to the side in an attempt to compose herself.

“Your Honor, please tell me you will not allow the defense to turn this trial into a sideshow,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Approach!” the judge yelled.

Derek looked around and saw that Scar was smiling from ear to ear. The members of the media were going crazy, writing and recording.

The two attorneys approached the bench. The judge leaned in and spoke to them, while everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Finally, the judge spoke somberly. “Mr. Tillman, you may proceed with your argument for dismissal,” the judge said.

“I would be glad to,” Tillman replied, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

“Your Honor, with all due respect, I am asking that the state's case against my client, Stephon Johnson, be dismissed, and that the evidence obtained be deemed inadmissible, as it was obtained with an illegal warrant. My client was arrested inside the house at the address 245 Covington Lane. The warrant used to illegally search my client's property was granted for the address 254 Covington Lane—a completely different, and might I add, nonexistent address. Therefore, it was obtained through an illegal search and seizure, which you and I both know was a direct and despicable violation of my client's rights.

“The state and their rogue cowboy troopers showed no writ of probable cause to enter my client's property and seize property or persons contained therein. This case was a prime example of the Maryland State Police's constant attempt at racial profiling and prejudice against young men like my client. I move to have this case dismissed without prejudice and expunged from my client's record,” Mr. Tillman argued.

Tiphani Fuller looked back at her husband, contorting her face with anger.
He told me it would all be good. This better not come back to haunt my career,
she thought.

Loud gasps and murmurs erupted in the courtroom as Scar's attorney laid out his argument. Derek gripped the bottom of the wooden bench so hard that his knuckles turned white. He knew Scar would be released, but his lawyer was supposed to let the trial go on for a while first, to help Derek score a few more points with the chief. Making himself, his wife, and the department look bad had never been part of the plan. This was supposed to be a win-win for everyone, but Tillman was flipping the script.

Chief Scott and the entire unit sat in the back of the courtroom. They were up in arms as they heard the defense basically make them look like racist assholes. Scar just sat there with a smug look on his face, knowing he was about to be set free.

“Order! Order!” Judge Klein screamed out, banging his gavel over and over. Finally, things quieted down in the courtroom. “In light of this new and unsettling revelation and the fact that the court records reflect the address on the warrant is in fact the wrong one, I have no choice but to honor the U.S. Constitution, in accordance with the fourth amendment, which provides citizens the right to be free from illegal search and seizure. I hereby dismiss the State's case against defendant Stephon Johnson on the grounds that the State's evidence is inadmissible in the nature it was obtained,” Judge Klein said regretfully, slamming his gavel and rushing up from the bench.

The courtroom erupted into pandemonium. Reporters scrambled to get the best shots of Derek and Scar. Tiphani threw her papers on the desk and stood up, enraged. The narcotics unit members and Scar's henchmen began exchanging harsh words, and the court officers were overwhelmed with trying to bring order in the courthouse.

Derek hung his head in shame. His wife shot him evil looks. This was no longer part of the act. She had put her ass on the line for this case, and she was truly pissed off now.

Chief Scott rushed over to him and grabbed him by the arm. “I need to talk to you, Detective Fuller…now!” he growled, pulling Derek into the hallway by his arm. “For Christ's sake, Fuller, what the fuck were you thinking? Something as simple as the right address on a fucking warrant!” Chief Scott said in a harsh whisper.

“I told Cassell two forty-five. I even wrote it down for him. I can't help it if he's dyslexic and can't write the right number!” Derek lied. The truth was he didn't write it down, and Cassell had written the address correctly. Derek just went back and reversed the numbers. He had failed to factor Scar's pain-in-the-ass lawyer into the equation, and now things had blown up in his face.

“Chief, I can fix this,” Derek started.

“You let the department down. You better come up with some good shit to redeem yourself, Fuller,” Chief Scott said.

Just then a huge, uproarious crowd began moving toward them. It was like the scene around a hot celebrity surrounded by fans.

Derek and the chief looked on and saw Scar in the middle of the crowd. He could not contain the still-smug smile that spread across his face as he rolled his unlit Cuban cigar between his fingers. As the crowd, complete with media cameras and Scar's henchmen, approached Derek, Scar stopped.

“If it ain't the fuckin' man without a plan,” Scar said sarcastically to Derek, winking.

That was it.

“Fuck you!” Derek screamed, lunging at Scar. He instinctively reached to his waistband for his weapon, but felt nothing there. When he entered the courthouse, he'd had to check in his gun.

“You lucky bastard,” Derek grumbled as Chief Scott blocked him. This take down was supposed to make Derek look good, and now Scar was standing here in front of all the cameras, rubbing shit in Derek's face. This was not the way things were supposed to go down, and if Derek didn't know better, he'd say that Scar was enjoying this a little too much.

Scar's crew had gotten ready for battle, stepping in front of Scar, ready to take on Derek. Chief Scott continued to struggle to restrain Derek.

“Fuller! This bastard is not fucking worth it,” the chief said, dragging a raging Derek down the opposite end of the courthouse hallway. Scar popped his collar and stepped across the courthouse threshold into freedom.

The show looked good, and everyone was completely fooled, except one lone person, who sat in the back of the courtroom and witnessed the whole circus act. From the moment they saw Scar's lawyer argue the fourth amendment and the little wink that Scar gave detective Fuller after the trial, the observer knew something was not right. It was now time to find out exactly what was going on.