The curtain has been pulled back on the civil case surrounding the tragic 2018 double homicide of Christopher “Juvie” Thomas and Anthony “SackChaser” Williams, two close associates of rapper YNW Melly (Jamal Demons). What unfolded in the recent deposition of Melly’s manager, Hunter K. Track (Damison Francois), was not merely a procedural legal questioning, but a dramatic and unsettling confrontation that unveiled layers of alleged cover-up, financial deception, and chilling fear. Track’s calculated and near-constant assertion of his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination has sent shockwaves through the case, providing the victims’ families with potent, legally damning ammunition.

At the heart of the deposition, led by the attorney for the families, John Phillips, were shocking claims and revelations previously given to law enforcement by the manager himself. It was revealed that Track had admitted to police that he and others went to a field to retrieve a gun the day after the murders. Adding to the gravity, bank records were used to allege that Track purchased a storage unit on the very day of the murders and hired a painter shortly thereafter. The implication, strongly pressed by the lawyers, is one of an orchestrated, high-stakes clean-up effort. When confronted with these details, Track chose silence, asserting his constitutional right over and over again.

A Damning Wall of Silence

The transcript of the deposition reads like a rapid-fire interrogation, with Phillips strategically bombarding Track with questions intended to corner him into either answering or invoking the Fifth Amendment—a move that, in a civil trial, a jury is legally permitted to hold against him. The sheer volume of questions Track refused to answer paints a devastating picture of potential involvement or, at the very least, intimate knowledge of highly suspicious activities.

Questions ranged from the specifics of the alleged cover-up—”Did you destroy or dispose of the bloody murder weapon in this case?”—to financial accountability, such as the mysterious use of cash from his account the week after the murders, and corporate loyalty—”Is Jamal Demon still one of your clients that you manage?” The manager’s response, time and again, was a concise, legally binding refusal. He wouldn’t even confirm if he was still Melly’s manager, a relationship question that is technically bizarre given the context.

The lawyer systematically introduced red flag after red flag, linking the manager directly to the alleged conspiracy. He questioned why a storage shed would be rented on the day of the murder, why a painter would be hired to paint something the day after, and who retrieved the 40-caliber shell casing found in the rented Jeep. For every action pointing toward a post-homicide clean-up, Track offered the same refusal to speak, effectively building a damning, circumstantial case against himself through his silence. The attorney noted the police were told that Courtland Henry and Jamal Demons were both in the field looking for the gun—a massive red flag given that Melly’s defense has maintained he was not at the scene of the shooting. Track’s silence on these specific claims only amplified the suspicion surrounding his true role in the immediate aftermath of the tragedy.

The Financial Feud: $200,000 and the YNW Empire

Beyond the mechanics of the alleged cover-up, the deposition exposed the tumultuous financial landscape within the Young N World (YNW) camp, suggesting a powerful monetary motive for the violence. The lawyer pressed Track on the rumored debt, asking him directly if he knew that SackChaser was owed $200,000 from Melly. If the allegations are true—that Melly killed two of his friends over a relatively minor sum when he was on the cusp of becoming a multi-millionaire—it would stand as a stunning and incomprehensible act of shortsighted violence.

Adding complexity to the financial drama was the murky corporate structure. Phillips aggressively questioned Track about the ownership rights of the YNW logo and company, asserting a verbal agreement existed where SackChaser and Juvie were promised a stake that was allegedly later snaked out through paperwork. Track repeatedly claimed ignorance on these foundational corporate matters. The lawyer suggested that conflicts over YNW marks and funds “all led to fighting right before the murders.” Furthermore, the manager’s refusal to confirm details about Melly’s $400,000 record deal advance, a chunk of which he would have received a 15% commission on, further underscored a pattern of evasiveness surrounding money and business affairs, raising questions about whether Track, too, was benefiting from a potentially fraudulent corporate setup.

The deposition also scrutinized the manager’s actions on the business side, including his decision to go on a press tour doing interviews after Melly was arrested, which the lawyer suggested was counterproductive and foolish. Track also faced detailed questions regarding his handling of the money, noting that as manager, funds would come to him first before being dispersed to the artist, which the lawyer suggested was a system rife with potential for skimming, though Track maintained his 15% commission was fair.

Allegations of Witness Tampering and a Manager’s Fear

Perhaps the most dramatic and sensational moments of the deposition involved two key areas: attempts to influence the civil case and the manager’s own alleged statement of personal fear.

The deposition revealed that payments were made to Juvie’s mother, Miss Phillips, following the tragedy. Phillips directly questioned Track about this, asking how much was paid, who authorized it (including Kevin Lyles, the owner of 300 Entertainment), and why the payment was made. The lawyer then escalated the confrontation to an astonishing level, asking: “Did you call me and tell me to drop the case against you because you were paying Leandre Phillips?” and “Are you aware of being investigated for witness tampering?” Track, once again, took the Fifth. These questions, which remain unanswered under oath, suggest a potential attempt to silence the victims’ families and manipulate the judicial process.

Even more chilling was the questioning regarding Track’s own statements to police. Phillips referenced a recorded statement where Track allegedly expressed a visceral fear: “If he could kill Sack and Juvie, that means he could kill me and my wife.” When confronted with this exact quote, and whether he was “expressing the fear for your own health or murder by Demons,” Track again asserted his Fifth Amendment right. This suggested admission of fear from the man closest to Melly directly undermines the rapper’s narrative of innocence and paints a terrifying picture of the alleged perpetrator. Track also refused to answer if Melly had ever threatened him or his wife, cementing the unnerving implications of his silence.

Forensic Clues and the ‘Magic Bullet’ Theory

The deposition was not limited to allegations of conspiracy; it delved into the forensic evidence that directly contradicts the narrative that Williams and Thomas were killed in a drive-by shooting. The lawyer questioned Track about the evidence of gunpowder stippling found on Thomas’s left cheek, indicating an intermediate-range gunshot—approximately eight inches from his face. This evidence is a profound indicator that the shots came from within the vehicle, directly challenging the claim of an external attack.

Phillips drove the point home by asking the manager, “Do you believe that a magic bullet shot from the right side of the car circled around and traveled and hit Mr. Williams in the left portion of his neck and traveled through the right portion of his head?” The question was clearly designed to expose the inconsistencies in the defense’s narrative, as autopsy findings do not align with the defense’s version of events. Furthermore, the revelation that SackChaser had called his mother two days before the murders, expressing fear for his life, reinforced the idea that the internal threat was known and escalating. The lawyer also pressed Track on whether he had any obligation as CEO and client of Hunter K Management to report threats of violence against Mr. Williams, to which Track again refused to answer.

The defense’s suggestion that Melly’s former girlfriend, Mariah Hamilton, and her mother were attempting to extort the defense for money and a car further muddied the water, highlighting the chaotic and fraught environment surrounding the case.

The Civil Verdict: Consequences of Silence

The ultimate weight of Hunter K. Track’s deposition lies in the differences between the criminal and civil judicial systems. In the ongoing criminal trial, a defendant’s silence (pleading the Fifth) cannot be used as an indication of guilt. However, in the civil suit for wrongful death, where the burden of proof is lower and the primary goal is monetary compensation, a jury can and often will infer guilt from a defendant’s refusal to answer questions.

Track was warned by the families’ attorney that his repeated assertion of the Fifth Amendment would be presented to a jury, who would be asked to “hold it against you when they render the verdict,” potentially leading to a judgment of many millions of dollars and allowing the courts to garnish his wages or seize property. The manager’s desperate consultation with his counsel about the legal implications of this silence highlights the catastrophic legal risk he has undertaken. The information, admissions, and chilling silences extracted during this deposition have already provided the victims’ families with powerful leverage, ensuring the focus remains squarely on the alleged conspiracy and the manager’s alarming role in the chaotic aftermath of a devastating crime. The pursuit of justice for Christopher Thomas and Anthony Williams has moved into a high-stakes arena, where the truth may finally be extracted not from a confession, but from a deafening, legally consequential silence.