LANSING, MICHIGAN – As Marshawn Curtis assisted his 4-year-old daughter into their car, police cars surged into the Walmart parking lot. Before he could ignite the engine, officers blocked his path.

We have a warrant for your arrest, one of the officers stated.

The accusation was rape, involving Joslyn Phillips, who had visited his residence on her 19th birthday a decade prior.

Once the little girl’s mother arrived, the arresting officer placed Curtis in handcuffs and sent a text to Detective Annie Harrison, informing her that Curtis was now in custody.

Curtis had an extensive history of sexual misconduct and threats. He had previously been caught flashing, filming private moments without consent, and had previously impregnated a 15-year-old girl in 2012. Another rape allegation had been dismissed when police in Georgia halted their investigation.

However, Harrison was not interested in letting him off the hook this time; she was resolute in uncovering the truth. Activating the recording device, she entered the interrogation room.

Curtis was seated with his hands clasped in his lap, tears in his eyes.

“I cannot believe this. I feel so hurt,” he said, his voice trembling. “How can you tell me I’m innocent until proven guilty yet you can just arrest me in a Walmart while I’m with my kid?”

Harrison understood why Curtis seemed bewildered. Having evaded accountability for so long, he naturally presumed he wouldn’t be charged with raping Phillips.

“I have two lovely daughters at home,” he told Harrison. “I am trying to be a good person.”

After half an hour of playing the victim, Curtis appeared to realize that his act was falling flat. He leaned in closer.

“Now that I think about it, I’ve discussed this before,” he claimed, insinuating he recalled being interrogated by a Lansing detective back in 2012. “Did you know about that?”

Harrison confirmed, “Yes.”

“I was as truthful as I could be,” Curtis insisted. “And after that, nothing came out of it.”

As truthful as he could manage without incriminating himself, Harrison thought. As truthful as he could be without confessing to his actions.

When asked if he had faced previous rape allegations, Curtis denied it. He continued ranting about how after a decade, she had arrested him and insisted he had never harmed anyone.

Harrison listened carefully, knowing that a detective’s key trait is curiosity.

But as Curtis spun tales, she recognized the need to assert her authority.

Sensing his evasion, she finally interjected: “Let’s talk about the rape you committed in Atlanta?”

Curtis froze mid-sentence. “Wait, what did you say?”

She repeated clearly, emphasizing each word.

Curtis shook his head vigorously.

“Never charged. Nothing at all,” he replied. “I was questioned about it and then it was dropped.”

He attempted to divert the conversation again, but she brought him back on track: “I think it’s time to discuss why we’re here.”

Curtis remained adamant that he wasn’t lying.

“The detective who worked that case told me the victim was unreliable and had fabricated multiple stories,” he claimed, “and that was the end of it.”

He recounted how, when previously arrested for public indecency, he was completely forthcoming with officers.

“When I was first taken in, I made it easy for them. I admitted everything,” he boasted.

Another fabrication. He had only cooperated after they presented him with video evidence.

While most of Harrison’s suspect interviews typically lasted around an hour, Curtis had been constantly spinning in circles for over two hours, which was starting to wear her patience thin.

“I’m going to grab some water,” she said, standing up from her chair.

In truth, she needed a moment away from him. Outside the room, Harrison mentally urged herself: It’s tough now, but it’ll pay off in the end. Just keep the conversation going.

Given that Curtis was under probation for a past indecent exposure case, he had been mandated to attend sex offender treatment. Back in the room, she chose to inquire about that.

Curtis fell for the bait.

“It was really humiliating, and I tried to mask it,” he said. “But, you know, I’m not the only one facing these issues. It’s comforting to discuss it, knowing others share similar struggles, and it inspires me to improve myself.”

Seizing the opportunity, Harrison continued, “What I’m understanding is that you have grown significantly since 2012 and are more aware of how your actions affect others. It’s possible that in Joslyn’s case, her experience might not have been consensual, but perhaps you didn’t grasp that.”

She pressed him, “Did you expose yourself to her?”

Curtis responded with his own question: “Do you think I did?”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.
That’s what she claims you did. Can you explain your actions? What occurred?”

Over the course of 2 ½ hours, she extracted his account of that evening ― stating that the encounter was consensual, but Phillips became upset when he asked her to leave afterward.

While it wasn’t quite a confession, it was more than nothing. Now, instead of having months to refine his narrative, he would have to stick to it during the trial.

∎∎∎

When Harrison showed up at the courthouse for the preliminary hearing a month later, in February 2022, she spotted Phillips seated alone on a bench in the hallway.

During this hearing, the judge would determine whether there was sufficient evidence for Curtis to stand trial for raping her. If not, the case would be dismissed.

Phillips appeared vulnerable as he sat there, just as Harrison felt. But that was about to change.

Phillips had already retained her own attorney. Shortly, she would initiate a federal civil lawsuit against the City of Lansing, the county, police officials, and attorneys for mishandling her case.

Before they proceeded into the courtroom, Phillips paused.

Just so you know, she informed Harrison, all future correspondence needs to go through my lawyer.

Harrison acknowledged her statement.

That’s great to hear, she responded. I understand why you don’t trust me. I’m pleased to see you taking steps to protect yourself.

At the conclusion of the hearing, the judge ruled that Curtis would face trial.

Ten days later, Harrison received a call and was taken aback to hear Phillips’ voice.

I need to share something crucial, Phillips stated. I always felt like he targeted me, but now I realize he truly did.

Phillips elaborated that after her assault, numerous people acquainted with Curtis had sent her threatening messages via Facebook. In preparing for the trial, she revisited these messages and came across a message thread from prior to the assault.

“You should come hang out with me,” a person named Mike Love had written. “I’m just bored  stuck here at home alone.”

“I don’t hang out with strangers,” she replied. “No offense.”

“I can just take you to lunch or something so we can talk,” he responded. “Then afterward we can discuss you coming to my place and other things. I just need a chance.”

She blocked him.

Phillips hadn’t recognized it a few months later when she carried her purple backpack to the bus station and made a new acquaintance. But she now did: The picture on Mike Love’s profile was Marshawn Curtis.

∎∎∎

The trial commenced in November 2023.

Phillips, dressed in loose clothing with a frizzy ponytail, was a frequent presence in the courtroom but seldom spoke to Harrison. Even when she had a question for the detective, Phillips didn’t voice it directly; instead, she asked the victim advocate to get the information on her behalf.

The judge had to remind Phillips to project her voice as she testified about meeting Curtis, visiting his home on his birthday, and stating, “I don’t want to have sex with you, but we can still be friends.”

The prosecutor displayed a photograph of a cheerful teenage redhead – hardly recognizable as the 28-year-old woman on the stand now.

Phillips recounted the details of the night she was assaulted and what occurred when she encountered Curtis again.

On one occasion, Phillips and her mother, who returned to Lansing after the assault, were on a bus when Curtis and some of his friends boarded and sat behind them. From their seats, Phillips and her mother overheard him boasting about what he had done to her, causing her mother to cry. They exited at the next stop and walked home.

On another occasion, Phillips, her daughter in a stroller, had attended a festival with her brother in Old Town Lansing. One of her brother’s friends, who introduced himself as Curtis, approached them.

That’s the man who assaulted me, Phillips voiced to her brother in panic.

Wait, that’s not right, her brother replied. That guy was named Marshawn. This is Curtis.  

Yeah, she responded. Marshawn Curtis.  

Her brother, furious at the deceit, appeared ready to confront the guy.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Curtis stammered as he walked away.

Phillips maintained her composure during the cross-examination led by defense attorney Melissa Patrick.

“Isn’t it correct that the encounter between you and Mr. Curtis was consensual?” Patrick inquired.

“It was rape,” Phillips replied firmly. “It was not consensual.”

Patrick then mentioned Phillips’ civil lawsuit.

“Are you pursuing financial compensation in that suit?” the attorney asked.

“I seek accountability,” Phillips clarified.

Following that, the jury heard testimonies from some of the women Harrison had identified during her investigation into Curtis.

One by one, they entered the courtroom to testify: the woman from the mall, the one from the library, the one outside the courthouse, and the one from Michigan State campus.

Then, another woman entered. She had traveled 800 miles to attend because Detective Annie Harrison asked her to.

∎∎∎

As Emily Zaballos approached the witness stand, she faced Curtis directly.

As she testified that he raped her, she remained composed, not shedding a tear nor even blinking.

Zaballos had been uncertain about flying from her home in Georgia to Michigan, a place she had never visited. She dreaded recounting her assault again. However, she ultimately realized that if she could help prevent Curtis from harming anyone else, she had to make the effort.

Zaballos’ testimony resonated with Phillips’ from the previous day: “I didn’t want him there, which was made abundantly clear . It was ‘no means no.’ Stop.”

Harrison never tried to predict how the jury would react, but the trial appeared to be progressing positively. The jurors seemed to accept Zaballos’ account of how Curtis made her uneasy from the moment he showed up at her home, very late and heavily intoxicated.

During cross-examination, Patrick asked Zaballos if she recalled certain events from earlier that evening: dancing with Curtis, chatting with a friend on the phone.

Zaballos answered no.

Patrick queried, “If I showed you a video of you speaking on the phone, would that trigger your memory?”

A wave of confusion overcame the courtroom.

Harrison understood perfectly what Patrick was discussing. The footage of Zaballos’ interrogation was not the sole video the police from Georgia had shared with her.

A second video existed.

The jurors were not present in the courtroom when the video started playing. The judge opted to view it and listen to the lawyers’ discussions before determining if it should be shown to them.

Sitting silently at the prosecution table, Harrison watched an image of Zaballos from three years earlier appear on the display.

There she was, lounging on the bed in shorts and a tank top. She was animated and loud, chatting with a friend on speakerphone. There she was, a bit tipsy, giggling and smiling with a man she barely knew.

Harrison diverted her gaze from the screen to the witness stand. Zaballos was unaware that Curtis had filmed her that night without her knowledge. She had never seen that footage before.

Once the clip ended, Patrick initiated her argument: This video demonstrated that Zaballos was untruthful. Curtis hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable. The jury needed to watch it.

Before Harrison’s eyes, the confident, strong woman faded from the stand, replaced by someone watching herself in a video of her impending assault.

Zaballos cleared her throat, repeating the action several times. She raised her hand – stop – then shut her eyes, covering her mouth with her hand.

Both Harrison and the victim advocate, Sara Tunney, realized simultaneously what was unfolding. They quickly hurried to the front of the courtroom, Harrison grabbing a trash can as she moved.

They assisted Zaballos out of the courtroom, guiding her to the restroom where she was physically ill.

∎∎∎

On the witness stand, Marshawn Curtis referred to his lawyer as ma’am. He maintained eye contact with both her and the jurors. When questioned about the young woman he had encountered at the bus station, Curtis claimed he and Phillips had a wonderful time celebrating his birthday back in 2012.

In contrast to Phillips’ statements, he recounted a different narrative.

She hadn’t missed her bus; she had always intended to spend the night.

When he kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

She never communicated that she didn’t want to have sex.

He never mentioned his intention to get her pregnant.

However, he did not manage to pull out in time.

“At that moment, she seemed upset. She sort of lost it,” he testified.

He recounted that she eventually calmed down and lay next to him. He insisted he hadn’t restrained her.

He didn’t vomit; he just dry-heaved over the edge of the bed.

He testified that she didn’t try to flee but left angrily later after he received a text from his girlfriend and told her to leave.

As she stomped away down the street, he remained on the porch smoking — not engaging in any inappropriate behavior.

The following day, he saw her at the bus station and asked if they could chat. She responded with a disdainful look. After she left, he inquired with her friends about what happened.

“They simply said that Joslyn claimed I did something to her,” he testified.

Curtis admitted he didn’t recall messaging Phillips on Facebook as Mike Love. He explained that the name was a joke, and he had communicated online with many people using that account.

Regarding Zaballos, Curtis refuted having sexual relations with her. He claimed he had touched her inappropriately while they danced drunkenly, but that was the extent of it. The judge permitted the jurors to view the video he recorded of her that evening, and his attorney asked Curtis why he had done it.

His response was somewhat vague: “Honestly – it kind of brought me back to my initial – the reason I’m here. I just wanted to record it to show someone how erratic she was behaving.”

When questioned about the numerous instances he exposed himself to women he didn’t know, Curtis stated he had suffered sexual abuse as a child.

Curtis explained that when detectives confronted him for trailing Hannah home from a bar near Michigan State, he admitted everything immediately.

“At that moment, I was tired of concealing my actions, lying to myself, and believing I had control over it. I just confessed to them and asked for help,” he stated calmly.

“I previously convinced myself that I wasn’t touching anyone, that I wasn’t putting hands on anyone, so it wasn’t too serious,” he mentioned.

Now, he stated he had learned an important lesson: “I don’t necessarily need to touch someone to violate them.”

His attorney concluded by delineating the difference between that and rape: “OK. Have you ever – despite these issues you claim to have, have you ever sexually assaulted or raped any woman?”

Curtis replied, “No.”

∎∎∎

Every law enforcement officer in America is aware of a fundamental truth: A guilty verdict is never a certainty.

A conviction beyond a reasonable doubt can be challenging to establish. The criminal justice system is designed to make securing a conviction difficult to protect innocent individuals from unjust incarceration.

However, there are times when this same system means a police detective – who has earned the trust of a traumatized victim, devoted months to building a case, and made an eagerly awaited arrest – might not receive the outcome she’s been hoping for.

Occasionally, it results in perpetrators escaping justice for horrific acts.

Sexual assault cases are among the hardest to win. These incidents typically occur in private, with only two individuals knowing the truth of what transpired. If the jurors cannot discern who is being truthful, it may lead to a rapist evading punishment.

It’s a tale of conflicting accounts.

Even though thousands of rape kits have been pulled from storage and tested thanks to federal funding from the Sexual Assault Kit Initiative, the rate of rape convictions in the country remains unchanged. The majority of sexual assault cases still don’t reach the courtroom, and when they do, many end in acquittals.

Law enforcement officers who handle sex crime cases often struggle with this reality. Some opt to move to different assignments, take jobs in private security, or turn to alcohol, leading to personal and professional downfall.

However, those who remain in this line of work understand one key element: the outcome is not determined by a single individual. The judicial system functions because every participant has a specific role to fulfill.

The police conduct investigations. Prosecutors build the case. Victims share their narratives. Jurors listen attentively.

If everyone performs their duties to the best of their abilities, even if a guilty individual is acquitted, it must suffice.

∎∎∎

Harrison understood that Aylysh Gallagher was highly capable when it came to addressing predators like Curtis.

Both Harrison and lead prosecutor Patricia Ceresa agreed that the enthusiastic young attorney could offer valuable support. Gallagher was prepared to take on Curtis once more, after unsuccessfully prosecuting him for domestic violence without the victim’s testimony five years earlier in 2018.

One of Gallagher’s responsibilities was to question Curtis. While doing so, he attempted to play the victim, claiming to have been poorly treated by Harrison.

“I felt like I was being grilled,” he remarked.

Gallagher focused on whether he had been truthful with Harrison.

“I won’t say I was,” Curtis admitted. “I don’t recall everything we discussed—just my feelings.”

This was quite different from his brief chat with the detective in Georgia, where he had informed her of a video he had involving Zaballos, prompting her to ask for it.

From her position at the prosecution table, Harrison observed the familiar exchange. She was convinced Curtis recorded the video with the intent to harm Zaballos; he aimed to discredit her if she reported him to the authorities, and it had worked previously in Georgia.

Now, she waited to see if it would have the same effect on the jury.

Gallagher pressed Curtis on the motivation behind the recording: “Was it because it reminded you of this case?”

His confidence started to crumble.

“As I mentioned,” he faltered. “That isn’t all I said. I did mention that, Ms. Gallagher, but I wanted it noted how irrational she was acting.”

Gallagher fixed him with a piercing gaze.

“Are you suggesting,” she inquired coldly, “that if someone is irrational, they cannot be sexually assaulted?”

∎∎∎

The jury deliberated for fewer than four hours. On December 1, 2023, they found Marshawn Curtis guilty of first-degree criminal sexual conduct resulting in personal injury.

As the judge announced the verdict, Harrison and the other prosecutors turned to share smiles with Phillips, who did not respond with a smile.

Curtis wouldn’t face sentencing for over two months. In Michigan, his crime carried a possible sentence of “life or any term of years,” which meant that despite the guilty verdict, he could receive a relatively short prison term.

The sentencing hearing took place on Valentine’s Day 2024, presided over by Judge James S. Jamo.

Joslyn Phillips addressed Curtis directly, stating that committing murder would have been more merciful than his actions.

Then the judge pronounced the sentence: 17 ½ to 80 years, meaning Curtis could potentially spend the rest of his life incarcerated.

With that, the court session concluded. A deputy handcuffed Curtis and escorted him out.

At the table where they had collaborated for weeks, Harrison, Gallagher, and Ceresa congratulated one another. Two other prosecutors joined their celebration.

Joslyn Phillips, seated with her sister in the front row, wiped away tears.

In the second row, Tunney comforted her with a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Behind them, the woman who had accused Curtis of harassment at the mall settled into her husband’s embrace.

From the back, Harrison’s partner, Joseph Merritt, along with the detective who arrested Curtis outside a Walmart, gave Harrison approving nods.

The case was officially concluded, but not everyone was present to witness the outcome.

As the sentence was read, Harrison sent a quick text.

The message reached Georgia, where Emily Zaballos sat waiting alone.