Transcript of Smoke and Mirrors

She had missed a meeting, and then not to hear from her. This isn't right. It would have been impossible to get up every day knowing that she was gone. I had to believe you would find her alive.

Text her. She always got right back.

I've seen her step out the shower to answer her phone.

Then one day, she didn't.

Immediately, my spidey senses were high.

Where was Naela?

I send her an email, all caps, Are you alive?

There was no sign of her, and such a confusing trail of clues. Even the calls to 911 were silent.

No voice, no struggles could be heard. That's going to be ery. Yes, it is.

In my heart, I knew she's not coming back.

One of the suspects had an alibi until a camera caught him in a lie.

He lived a life of a lot of smoke and mirrors.

And the strangest clue of all, there in an empty parking lot.

Six perfectly stacked car bar boxes.

Why were they there? What was in them?

It was right adjacent to a lagoon. I want you to know that's probably not a good sign.

I'm Lester Holt, and this is Dateland. Here's Keith Morison with Smoking Mirrors.

It It wasn't like this, you have to understand. It wasn't gray, it wasn't cold. No flex of snow to drift and catch the bitter breeze. No. No, it was hot, and it was late after midnight, September 27th. 2007.

Pretty secluded area next to a forest reserve.

So it was. And it was clear and dark and still and vacant. Here where the deep wood fought back against the decaying suburban sprawl. And then, nothing was clear at all.

I remember crying this violent cry. You're experiencing everything, but it's not true.

You're just waiting to wake up.

It just feels like you're in literally in a nightmare.

Yes, still does. The name you'll want to remember is Naela.

The meaning was one who succeeds.

This is Naela's mother, Maria.

Wanted her to be successful, and she was. She lived her name.

Quite true, as frankly have the rest of them in this big family. This is Leah, the first born.

We might need a graph or chart because it's involved.

Full siblings, half siblings, quarter siblings, once removed, that thing. Very blended.

We share one parent, so technically half siblings. But that word is offensive to me because To me, it implies that it's something less. And I've never felt that way. I've never used that word. We're just siblings.

One big, close, happy family. So said John, the youngest. It's simple for us because we grew up together from the time we were young. So for us, it's like we're one big family. Not one, but two Ashley's. She's Ashley with the E, and the other one's Ashley with the Y. That's this one. And imagine this. I think this is unusual, rare. Yes. That everybody gets along.

Yeah, everybody gets along.

It's a good thing. Although when we were kids, it was a lot more crazy to other people.

And in the middle of this big family was Naïla. Happy birthday, have I love you. Little Moot, they used to call her, because once she decided something, all arguments against were moot.

She was very sure of herself from really the earliest time.

Yeah, Yes, Naela Franklin was going somewhere.

She was like my hero. I looked up to her. She always just accepted you for who you were. It's almost like she glowed when she walked into a room.

After college, Naela came home to Chicago and began building a career, eventually in pharmaceutical sales. At 28, she owned a condo in the heart of the city.

I think everything she wanted to be, she was. Just as a theme, fabulous was the aspiration, and I think she definitely met that mark.

But always, number one, really, she stayed in touch. Never failed. Call her, she'd call back right away. Text her, she'd reply instantly, always.

She managed to water all of her relationships. She spent time with everyone, friends, family.

That's a pretty special skill.

Yeah, to manage that in your career.

There were men, of course there were, though she was, shall we say, discerning.

The young men she dated were of a caliber that we expected of her.

What guys did she like?

A successful, nice, respectable men.

Professional men.

She was dating a plastic surgeon guy, and this guy, and that guy.

She took up briefly with a dashing investor who drove a white Bentley. And then in July 2007, Naela attended an art gallery opening, and he came. This lawyer from Milwaukee, Andre Wright.

She had a big, beautiful smile. She was a pretty woman, very warm personality. And we just walked around the space looking at different pieces, talking about my interests, what I was looking for in a piece of art. Obviously, I tried to engage her.

Suddenly, this is a different search than it was before.

The artwork became of little interest to me at that point.

Just like that, it was all over for both of them. I don't want to go all hallmark card on you or anything like that. That's okay. But this was clearly a transidental moment or something.

Yeah, absolutely. Definitely.

Aela's family loved Andre, but family wouldn't She brought him to my child's first birthday party.

He brought my baby a gift. I was like, Who does that? Because he's a nice quality person.

They liked you?

I think so, yeah. Due to her influence.

You started planning on moving in together, right? On being together. We did. And that was happening pretty fast.

It felt good, though. It just felt natural.

It was long distance, he in Milwaukee, she in Chicago. They stayed connected by phone and email and text all day long.

I would call her every morning.

And no one seemed to notice any dark force, any unseen thing festering in the heat of that hot late summer. Didn't feel the warning, didn't know who said what to whom. It was September 18th, a Tuesday.

That Tuesday morning, I thought I had called her on my way to work, but I was interrupted. She called me and said, Hey, what happened to my call? I said, Oh, I thought I had. We spoke for a bit, exchanged emails later, and then just went about the date.

Evening came. He, in the flush of love, called again. No answer.

Left a message saying I was heading home and got a text message back from her phone saying she was at a dinner and would reach out later.

Wait a minute. You had been calling her every day, talking all the time. Yeah. And she said, I'm at dinner. I'll call you later. But she didn't. Then, 9: 00 PM, one of the Ashley's called Naïla, Naïla who always picked up the phone for a sister.

I got a text message that said something along the lines that I'm at dinner and I'll call you in a few.

That sound like her?

No, it wasn't like her to not answer the phone. I've seen her step out the shower to answer her phone.

I send her an email, all caps, Are you alive?

One of those half-injust, half-worried things you say without knowing what a good question it was.

Not only was Naïla increasingly hard to reach, even worse, she hadn't shown up for work that day. When we return.

Immediately, my spidey senses were high.

And one more ominous sign, three calls to 911 from her cell phone.

No voice, no struggles could be heard. Light music in the background.

That's going to be eerie to hear that, huh?

Yes, it is.

September 19th, 2007, dawned in Chicago like any other late summer day. Hot, humid, windy, the usual. Except for one thing. Naela Franklin, ambitious, dependable, and always on her phone, was suddenly radio silent, even with her new love, Andre.

I called her that morning, emailed her, called her again early afternoon.

And that's when he sent her that all-caps email, Are you alive? And you probably didn't mean it the way it really was. No.

It's like to say to someone, Are you there?

At the end of the workday, big sister Leah did get a call. Not from Naela, but from Naela's boss.

He said she had missed a meeting. Immediately, my spidey senses were high. So of course, I tried to call her, didn't get her.

So Leah called Naela's friends and her other siblings. Had anyone heard from Naela?

I didn't speak with her that day. I didn't speak with her the day before. And I said, No, I actually haven't. I've been really busy, and I haven't talked to her.

A cold fear took hold of Leah. She called the Chicago PD, filed a missing person's report, and then she drove over to Naela's condo, knocked on the door. No answer. She got a key. She went in.

You see her eggs and coffee that she had just left there, just out.

Something's wrong.

Just like, You know what? This isn't This isn't right.

And then Leah got professional. She knew how. She's a public relations executive, and she called every media contact she had. You went wide on this thing. Your PR impulse really kicked in. Yes. Leah's experience told her not to hope too much for media help for one very unfortunate reason.

Quite frankly, I don't know of a lot of women of color or people of color who get the same attention by the public in general.

There's that old saw in the media business, and in fact, there's some truth to it.

No, yeah, I think it's not just a saw.

The good-looking young blonde goes missing, and the whole world wants to know about it and stay talking about it for years. Black woman is not quite the same deal.

No, and there is reality to that. It troubles the mind that when people of color go missing, or if it doesn't fit the narrative of gun violence or gang violence or something like that, then somehow it's not real.

So Leah knew, but Leah was not to be denied. She decided they were damn well going to cover it. Well, they were. And maybe this was because of Leah's media savvy. The next morning, Naela's picture was all over the news. Flyers with her picture are taped to traffic posts and handed out to people passing by.

We were in the streets and putting Any place we could, downtown, suburbs.

They phoned and texted and emailed their friends, but no one reported seeing Naela. No one. Naïla's sister kept replaying their last conversation.

She called me and she said, I've got something to tell you. And before she could tell me, she got a call on the other line. And she clicked over and she said she'll call me back.

She didn't call you.

She didn't call me back.

Awful what a person's mind could churn up in the dark as day one became two and then day three.

I kept calling her and kept calling her. I just kept thinking, She's going to answer, she's going to answer, she's going to answer.

There's no handbook for this, so you wake up and you think it's a bad dream, and no, it's still real.

The case of the missing pharmaceutical representative landed on the desks of Sergeant Mia Oliari and Detective Greg Jacobson, who, right away, scanned Naila's phone records and found something alarming. Just after 10: 00 PM, the night Naela vanished, her cell phone made three calls to 911.

Chicago marches.

No voice, no struggles could be heard, no background noise, with the exception of some light music in the background. That's going to be eerie to hear that, huh?

Yes, it is. Is the person physically unable to complete the conversation and just able to dial a 911?

So the investigator said about talking to just about everybody Naeela knew.

There was interviews completed through doctors she had visited to try to retrace her steps and people she had encountered. A lot of people were there. Of course. Anyone that we knew had a relationship with her.

Maybe the ESPR campaign helped because...

We had some anonymous tips, people saying that they saw her at location.

But not a single one of them led to Naïla. By now, the detectives believe they were dealing with a serious crime. And yet...

She's missing. Technically, there hasn't been a crime committed.

That makes you somewhat awkward when you're looking into it.

But anyone that we knew that had contact with her, the boyfriend that she was in Wisconsin with the weekend before she went missing, they were all interviewed.

That boyfriend from Wisconsin, Andre, had come to Chicago, was helping with the search, and soon was, perhaps, the subject of it. They came to you? They did. The perfect boyfriend. Now, to police, a perfectly obvious person of interest.

Coming up, a discovery in an empty parking lot.

It was in a pretty secluded area right adjacent to a lagoon. I want you to have datelines to know that's probably not a good sign.

A strange sight, to be sure. But what, if anything, did it have to do with Naïla? When Dateland continues.

And there's this big search.

Yes.

How overwhelming was that?

You don't realize how the world seems so big when you're looking for someone.

Imagine all of Chicago, and Naela could be anywhere, tied up in some basement in the trunk of a car. The worst. Then, middle of the night, 20 miles south of town, in a place called Calumet City, a local cop was on routine patrol checking out a golf course parking lot. His name is Calvin Lucius. So as I got to this area right here, I noticed right in front of me six perfectly stacked cardboard boxes, shipping boxes. Sitting right there on the parking lot? Sitting right on the curb. So it stood out. So I'm looking like something's not right here. Inside the boxes, pills, hundreds of them. I was thinking, Okay, this might be something big. It's as far as some type of narcotics and drug-related case. Except, looked more like samples, something a pharmaceutical rep would have been handing out free to doctors. What were they? Just different type of medicines.

I can't even pronounce the names.

What were they doing here? On the label, the address to a storage locker and a name, Naela. And pretty soon... The FBI, Chicago Police, everybody was out here looking. Including Detective Greg Jacobson.

It was in a pretty secluded area next to a forest preserve, which was right adjacent to a lagoon. I want you to know that's probably not a good sign.

What Was Naela down there in that murky water?

We had light trucks out there. They dredged the lagoon.

Back and forth they went, scoured every inch of the pond and the thick woods behind it, and found one weird thing.

There was some jewelry that was on some of the bushes.

Pearls and such just hanging there. The cops checked with their friends. Looked like Naela's, they said. Except Naela wasn't here. But remember Sister Leah's PR campaign? Not far away from there, next town over.

The person saw a newscast, and they were like, That car has been on my block for a couple of days. And thank God they saw that. And thank God they cared enough to call it in.

That call came from here, Hammond, Indiana, just on the road from Kalumet, three days after Naïla vanished, a black Chevy Impala.

We rushed out there to see it.

It was hers.

You open that trunk, the last thing you want to think is that there's something in that trunk. Unfortunately, there wasn't.

You obviously do a workup on the vehicle. Did you find any prints, any DNA, anything useful at all?

I think our evidence technicians that processed it described it as it was wiped clean.

Including in the trunk?

Yes. Yes.

Believing somehow she might find her sister, the younger Ashley drove out there.

The car was parked in front of an abandoned house, and I went and I banged on the door and looked through the windows. I screamed her name. I didn't want to leave. I had to be taken from that area.

Of course, the cops canvas the neighbors. And what do you know?

They had seen a male mulling around the vehicle and then enter another vehicle and leave. And that was a few days prior to us actually locating the vehicle.

Did they give you a good description?

A male African-American, thin build.

That description might have fit a lot of people in Naïla's life. Like, for example, her new boyfriend, Andre Wright. Police had questioned him right away, of course, about their relationship and where he was when she disappeared.

They asked about when last time I saw her was, last time we spoke.

Or could that man mulling around the car have been someone else, like that previous boyfriend, the investor? His name was Reginal Potts. But before the cops could find him, he stepped up and called them.

He wanted to know why Chicago Police wanted to talk with him.

He agreed to stop by headquarters for a talk.

He gives us a lot of information.

He'd met her a year earlier, he told them, by pure chance, really, on the street in the Ritzie Gold Coast. She was sophisticated, so was he. They dated briefly, realized it wasn't for life. Though a girl could do worse, what with his white Bentley and duplex overlooking the lake.

He lives in A very large apartment complex, a high rise. Nice place? Beautiful.

Yes.

And an upscale area in the city.

It's where you want to live. Wow.

Reginald told them everything he did the day Naida vanished. Everywhere he went, very detailed. The day's events This early evening shopping with friends at Target, bar hopping later with not one but two girlfriends, separately, of course. And after that, an intimate plan with a third girlfriend.

They make arrangements to meet at Reginald's apartment around midnight on the 18th.

This guy gets around.

If you got a Bentley, your options are open, right?

I guess so. As investigators headed off to check Reginald Potts' alibi, down in Calumet City, Officer Calvin Lucius was again cruising vacant parking lots, this time a mile or so from where he found those boxes, when a partner noticed something. You saw a pair of earbud hanging from the tree. Bright little bubbles showed up in the dark. What else was in that abandoned place? At the edge of the Midnight Woods.

Coming up, it's now a different type of investigation, and detectives take a closer look at a man from Naïla's past.

She sensed there was something off about him.

It's a grassroots effort by family and friends. For all the frantic activity, the phone calls, the flyers, the organized looking about, it was a rare quiet time nine days in when Naïla and the Franklin's sister felt it.

We had a prayer service at our church. In my heart, I knew. I was like, You know what? She's not coming back.

And that very night, in the 3: 00 AM hush of Calumet City, night patrol officer Officer Calvin Lucius felt his way past the glittering ear buds his partner saw hanging from a tree to the inky flat fringe of forest at the back of a long abandoned parking lot behind a derelict video store. A Probably got maybe right around in this area and just looked over and the body was there. What was that moment like? Shock. You don't know if it's her or not, but you have an idea because it's a female body. They had to resort to dental records to confirm it was Naïla.

I think this type of death, it doesn't just kill that person. It kills a lot in the family. It's the absence of a piece of you because that person is not here.

I can't describe it. It's like you know it's happening, but it just doesn't feel real. It just feels like you're in literally in a nightmare.

An autopsy confirmed that death was by asphyxiation, so now it was homicide. But who was the killer? Not Andre. Confirmed he was in Milwaukee when Naela vanished.

Everything with him checked out.

As for being questioned. Are you upset by it?

Not at all. No. They should have done that. That was part of doing their job.

So what about that investor, Reginald Potts, the one had been so helpful? Well, this was curious. When the detectives went to visit his high-rise apartment, they couldn't help but notice.

The exterior to one of the doors was extremely damaged, like it had been forced open.

That's weird. Maybe not so weird. There was an explanation.

Reginald Potts was recently visited by members of the Crook County Sheriff's Department in an attempt to evict Reginald Potts.

Of course, this was 2007. Lots of people were falling behind on their mortgages. But by the look of it, Reginald's problems ran deeper than that.

He was constantly in default. Fifteen pairs of Gucci shoes and not a bed to sleep on.

Not a bed to sleep on?

A mattress. A mattress. No furniture. Mattress on the floor. Not a pot or pan in the kitchen. But yet what he believed were important items to surround himself with: cars, clothing, high-end restaurants. They're for show.

The Bentley, it turned out, belonged to somebody else. And Reginald juggled girlfriends and hookups and an ex-wife who was raising one of his children and an ex-girlfriend with whom he'd had another. It didn't take Naïla long to figure it out, or so her friends told the police.

She sensed there was something off about him. And that's probably where she decided to look a little deeper.

So she ended it. And as she did, she warned whomever she could about Reginald, even one of his other girlfriends. Watch out for this guy. He's bad news, and he's cheating on you.

Yeah, they were in communication about Reginald.

Naïla told Andre that when Reginald found out, he wasn't happy.

He got wind of that and reached out to Naïla in a threatening manner.

Sent her nasty emails and voicemails. Did she worry about that a lot?

She didn't exhibit any worries to me about it.

But she must have been worried. Detectives found a report that Naela had called a non-emergency police phone number, asked about filing an order of protection against a threatening ex-boyfriend. She mentioned Mr. Potts. So yes, Reginald Potts was a murder suspect, but he wasn't exactly hiding from the police. Remember, he'd given them a very detailed alibi to check out.

He's pretty specific on where he's at.

And as the weeks by, he seemed quite eager to help.

And he continuously called me on my cell phone. Really? Yes.

He called you to tell you what?

Try to direct an investigation. Why haven't we talked to Hugh Eccles and Castro Eccles?

His friends, the Eccles, were with him much of the day, he said.

They were at a Target store shopping.

And sure enough, Mr. Eccles confirmed his account. There they are on surveillance cameras at the Target store, which Which would seem to exclude Potts as a suspect. If he was shopping, he wasn't kidnapping and killing Naela. But this was curious. For some reason, Reginald did not show up on camera.

If you're ever going to commit a crime, do not do it at target because they're going to have everything down to your sign, your transaction on the keypad. Very clair.

Meaning, either he managed somehow to avoid every camera in the store or his friend lied for him. So they hauled Reginald's buddy down to the station, and after a few go-runs, he admitted not only that Reginald wasn't at the target, but...

He did receive a phone call from Reginald Potts, and then traveled to Hammond in order to pick him up because he needed a ride.

Hammond, Indiana, the town where Naela's car was found. On the sixth of December, 2007, Reginald Potts was arrested for the murder of Naela Franklin. But Reginald, quite vehemently, denied killing her.

This is the evidence, okay?

We can put you... Let me do the fabrication. Fabrication? Yes, said Reginald. He was being framed.

Coming up, a suspect bears all.

Why are you taking your clothes on? Because I have. What's that? Because I have. Okay.

But would he reveal the truth when Dateland continues?

Here we are in a little room in the Chicago police station. Let's say that is what you're saying. Reginald Potts is under arrest for the murder of Naela Franklin. The detectives are certain they have their man. But Mr. Potts? Everything I have actively denied that I was ever there, period. Reginald Potts appears to be incented they even asked. And I can tell you you're lying. Naela? He was nowhere near her, he said, the day she vanished. Listen to me. I was not in her apartment on the 18th, period. Or her building. Or apartment building. Of course, they told him they had evidence. I saw your distinctive badly in her parking garage or building. That's it. I can tell you for sure. That's a lot. A police frame-up to which the detective said, Reginald, do you understand what video takes this? Can't you see the letters? Yes, including Naela's apartment building. And there is Reginald, plain as day with Naela arriving and leaving with her. On that very day, she disappeared. So you knew he was there? Yes. But Reginald doubled down on his denial. I am certain that I am nowhere here inside of Naela Franklin's apartment building.

Accused the police of fabricating evidence. If you have, you have been very creative with Photoshop. I guarantee you cannot bring me getting off in an elevator at Naela Franklin in his house. If you have, you've been very creative with photoshop. He talked and talked, denied and denied. We can put you... Let me give you in the validation. All without any apparent desire for an attorney. But when they asked him to stand in the lineup so witnesses could have a look.

If there's no lawyer here that can bear with us on what is going on, who's speaking to whom in the lineup room, the person who's hearing me, I definitely would not feel comfortable.

There's a lawyer here, the state's attorney here in Cook County.

The state's attorney is representing the people and representing the case. I would not feel comfortable at all. So they waited for Reginald's attorney to arrive, and then it got odd. Reginald, the attorney is right here. Yes, sir. Why are you taking your clothes off? Because I have. What's that? Because I have. Okay. Your attorney is right here. We want to take you for a lineup right now. Are you stepping in on one of those?

Reginald removed all his clothing and refused to stand in the lineup.

That's an interesting tactic. Yes. Have you ever seen that before?

No.

So no lineup. But they charged him anyway with capital murder. Naela, by then, had been dead three months.

I was definitely relieved. I was surprised that it took so long, but I was relieved.

Relieved, too, that Reginald Potts, as was his right, demanded a speedy trial. But then...

Reginald Potts used every resource at his disposal to delay the process.

Nbc Chicago's Charlie Wojja Husky watched in something like amazement as Reginald turned speedy justice into something else altogether.

He hired lawyers. He fired lawyers. He tried to act as his own attorney. At each step of the process, the trial itself had to be reset.

One, two, Three years passed that way. In the fourth year after the murder, Illinois abolished capital punishment, so that was off the table. And still, Reginald's actions forced delays.

This is one of the most bizarre cases we've seen in Chicago. Are here in the business.

Just as Naila's family had reached out to the media, Reginald Potts tried to launch a PR campaign from behind bars.

His family reached out trying to convince me that there may be some way that he's not associated with this crime, that it might be someone else, that there was a rush to judgment.

He talked to a newspaper columnist who wrote sympathetically about his treatment in jail. And every delay, every manipulation was slow torture.

I very much believe believe that everyone should have a fair and just trial, and that too often people who are poor or people of color, or most often, they don't get proper representation, and they don't get a fair shake in our court system. But this was not that.

And then finally, on October 28, 2015, on a crisp fall day in Chicago, the State versus Reginald Potts began. It had taken eight years to get here. Cook County Assistant State's attorneys, Maria McCarthy and Fabio Valentini, brought the case against Potts. This was a case with no eyewitness, no confession, no video of the crime, no physical evidence linking Reginald Pats to the crime, and a cause of death that was based on primarily exclusion. We don't try many cases like that. And not many cases were the defendant quite like. Reginal Potts.

Coming up, an accused killer's defense.

I'm not a monster. He's smarter than the average criminal, but not as smart as he thinks he is.

And after eight years, a verdict.

What really tormented me all these years is that there's a possibility that justice won't be done. For eight years, Daela Franklin's family struggled through their incomplete grief. What really tormented me all these years is that there's a possibility that justice won't be done. There was no real forensic evidence, only circumstantial things. Though, according to the prosecutors, there was a whole smorgasbord of proof. That video of Reginald Potts with Naïla the day she vanished? The video at the Target store that did not show him and thus blew up his alibi. Naela's friends testified she showed them emails and played a voicemail in which he threatened her.

Naela played that voicemail for them because she was so terrified.

Essentially in that voicemail, he said to Naïla, I'm going to have you erased.

I'm going to make you disappear.

In fact, said the prosecutors, that's exactly what he did. Snuck into her building, led her terrified to the garage where he strangled her, stuffed her body in the trunk of her own car. And how did they know he took her out to the suburbs to dump her body and her car. Cel towers linked their phones together like a trail of breadcrumbs. From the moment that they walked out of that vestibule to the garage, she's not seen by anybody. She's not calling anybody. She's not answering calls. Her texts are all odd. But her phone and his phone are together, lock, step the entire rest of the day. Right to the abandoned video store, behind which they finally found Naela's body. No coincidence since he chose that particular spot, so far from Chicago, said the prosecutors. And we find out that the Video Max store is owned by Potts' brother-in-law. His friend, the alibi witness, now testified for the prosecution that, yes, he initially lied for Reginald, but didn't know it was to cover up a murder. And remember those three strange hang-up calls to 911 and those odd texts her family and boyfriend received? It was Reginald Potts using Naila's phone, hours after he murdered her, said the prosecution.

A clever killer's attempt to throw off a missing person's investigation. He's smarter than the average criminal, but not as smart as he thinks he is. But Reginald Potts was nothing, if not strategic. His defense was to refute their evidence and discredit the prosecution.

Defense attorneys need to create reasonable doubt. In this case, it was very difficult to determine cause of death. So immediately, the defense is going to rush to that idea and say, Well, you can't really tell how they died. And it's little things like that in the hopes that one juror or two jurors will latch on to that and say, I can't convict.

They even disputed the cell phone evidence the prosecution believed since the case.

The defense has alleged that the idea that you can triangulate a cell phone signal based on the cell it pings on a tower is somehow flawed.

After two weeks of testimony and argument, the jury had the case. Did Reginald's arguments persuade them? Two hours and 15 minutes after they began, the jury answered no. They pronounced Reginald Potts guilty of First Degree murder.

I was so relieved. It's like, Okay, that's passed. Now, it's the next thing.

The next thing was sentencing, nearly four months later.

Still waiting and hoping he doesn't get four years or something stupid like that.

Mr. Potts is present. But again, they had no idea What was this man all about? There was a hearing to help the judge make a decision about sentence. Normally, just arguments, recommendations from both sides. But not this time. The prosecution called 35 five witnesses to tell the judge a hair-raising story about Reginald Potts. Reginald was not quite the gold-plated success story he appeared to be.

He lived a life of a lot of smoke and mirrors.

He's a conman who fooled a lot of people. And when the conman was challenged, everybody, even law enforcement, was a target. He would kill me, he would kill my family. My family would never be safe.

When he was struck three times by Mr. Potts in the face.

He spent much of his adult life in prison, where he assaulted guards.

I was struck in the right eye by Detanie Potts.

All of that was too prejudicial to present a trial, but now absolutely relevant.

And he took her back by the elevator, and I heard, Slat.

This guy has been an absolute menace his entire adult life. Do you see Mr. Potts in court today? And when a woman stood up to him, witness after witness testified that Reginald betrayed them, bullied them, and much worse. He choked her, choked her out, and threw her on the bed. This guy not only had a propensity for violence against women, but he had a propensity specifically to choke and strangle them. He's a sociopath. He lies as easily as he breathes about anything, no matter how stupid. If he tells you what time it is, look at your watch. That bad, huh? Yes. The guy's a monster. A monster who, however briefly, fooled even the sophisticated, successful Naïla. Do her mother's eternal sorrow.

You don't know who you're letting into your life.

They don't always come looking like a monster.

There's a ceremony about these things. Everyone gets to to walk.

Naela's murder stole from our community a bright light.

Nightmare still taught me with her screaming, moaning and reaching out, begging for her life.

But Reginald, Reginald, cried, denied everything. The jury of my peers came back with a verdict that I believe is false, and I believe it is invalid, and I believe that a Court of Appeals will overturn that. But for now, this Court has to honor what they said and impose a sentence. But I tell you, John, I am not the person that Ms. Mccarthy has tried to paint in this courtroom. I'm not a monster. I'm not a monster. We waited to see See if the judge would buy Reginald's story or the prosecutors, and here it was.

You are cold, calculating, conniving, coward of a conman who Must be punished.

And indeed he was, life without parole.

Take him away.

So that was justice, the most naïve as family could hope for, terribly important and strangely empty. It's still not done. She's still not back. You still can't talk with her. No. They try to remember Naïla not as a murder victim, but as the beautiful young woman she was, the vibrant center of her family. But grief, real and painful, comes to visit every day.

People will say, Oh, she's your spirit, and she's your angel, and she's in a better place, and all this other stuff. I'm like, Yeah, but I want her here. I don't want my 28-year-old sister to be my angel. I want her to be right here in the thick of it with me.

That's all for now. I'm Lester Holt. Thanks for joining us.