The Last Chance Lawyer Read online

  Fortunately, the door was still unlocked. A woman stood behind the counter. Extra-large blouse. No makeup. Ink stains on her fingers. Slippers instead of shoes.

  “Shawna, sweetie, so good to see you.” Jimmy rushed up to her with open arms, one hand clutching a bundle of papers. “My favorite court clerk.”

  She gave him a dubious look. “Give it a rest, Jimmy. We’re closed.”

  “Aw, come on, sweetie. I’m only a little late.”

  “Office closes at five. You know that. Come back tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow may be too late for us. Got a sweet little girl who needs this filed today.”

  “What, you think the statute of limitations will run?”

  “Worse. She’s about to be deported.”

  That slowed Shawna a step. He could see she wasn’t a heartless woman. But somebody else made the rules, and she was supposed to follow them.

  “Come on, Shawna.”

  “All these documents get time-and-date stamped, Jimmy. You know that.”

  “And I know how easy it is for you to adjust that.”

  “Rules are rules.”

  “Who’s gonna know?”

  Shawna held up her hands. “Do you know what you’re saying? You’re basically asking me to falsify documents. I could lose my job. You could be disbarred.”

  Jimmy squinted one eye. “What if I threw in one of my special super-duper strawberry cream pies?”

  “Seriously? You think you can bribe me with a pie?”

  “It’s a really good pie.”

  “I’m still offended by the suggestion.”

  “Haven’t you heard the word on the street? My pie is better than anybody’s pie.”

  She put her fists on her hips. “Are you flirting with me? Does your husband know you flirt with women at work?”

  “Why would he care? It’s not like I’m trying to get sex.”

  “No. For that, you’d need at least three pies.”

  “Come on, Shawna. Cut us some slack. Keeping this little girl from being railroaded by the government is more important than a two-minute filing discrepancy.”

  Shawna glanced over both shoulders. No one else was in the office. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll stamp it as 4:59. You can’t tell anyone about this. No bragging in court or anywhere else. If word sneaks out, I’m coming after your chubby butt. And I still expect the pies. And don’t ever ask for a favor like this again.”

  “I won’t. Except...any idea what judge will get this case?”

  “You know that’s randomly assigned.”

  Jimmy inhaled slowly. “I know that’s how it looks on the outside...”

  “Meaning what?”

  “I’ve been around a long time.”

  “It shows.”

  “Consider me wounded. What I was saying was, I have detected certain patterns. Such as how Judge Buell never gets the nasty child custody cases.”

  “Buell hates child custody cases.”

  “But it’s funny that he never gets one. Since everything is randomly assigned. And I’ve noticed that Justice Franklin never gets antitrust work.”

  “She says those cases make her head hurt.”

  “My point is, there seems to be something occasionally less than random taking place. Like maybe you have some way of inserting an anti-randomizing agent when you log in the cases.”

  “Completely untrue.”

  “Right. I didn’t do it, nobody saw me do it, nobody can prove anything. But still, I’m thinking you have what we gamers call a cheat code.”

  “Which I deny.”

  “Which of course does not mean it doesn’t happen.”

  “No, but it does mean you’re never going to hear about it from me. There aren’t enough strawberry cream pies in the entire world.”

  Jimmy raised a finger. “I think you just admitted these cheat codes exist.”

  “I did nothing of the kind.”

  “And we both heard it.”

  Her face reddened. “You’re wrong. Now get out of here.”

  “You can’t stop me from speculating. Maybe in random anonymous posts on social media. Judicial bulletin boards, that sort of thing.” He paused. “You know how Maria loves to tweet around.”

  “Now this is becoming downright nasty.”

  “Look.” Jimmy smiled. “I don’t want to cause you any problems. But if this adoption case gets assigned to Conrad or Hindlemeyer, it’s dead in the water.”

  “Probably true.”

  “I’m thinking Judge Hawkins would be a good choice. She’s a mother. And a grandmother. I’m relatively certain she has a heart.”

  “Softest touch on the bench,” Shawna confirmed.

  “It would really make me happy if this case was assigned to Judge Hawkins.”

  “And now, Jimmy, you are totally crossing the line.” Shawna twisted her neck. “I do not appreciate you putting my job in jeopardy. You’re putting all of us in jeopardy.”

  “And I’m willing to do that,” Jimmy said softly, “if it saves this little girl. Take a look at those papers. See if you don’t think this is a worthy case for clerical mercy.”

  Shawna grudgingly riffled through the papers. “This girl lost both parents the same day?”

  “You got it. And her temporary protected status has been revoked and she could be deported at any moment. And sent to a sex-trafficking cousin.”

  Shawna twitched slightly.

  Jimmy continued. “We can’t stop the wheels of justice. But we might slow them a little. You’ve already helped a lot by getting this petition filed today. If it’s assigned to the right judge, Dan here might be able to get a restraining order against any immigration activity pending a full hearing.”

  “Very likely. But still...”

  “I’m not going to pressure you anymore. You do what you think is right.” Jimmy tucked his papers into his satchel and headed toward the door. “It’s all in your hands, Shawna.”

  She called after him. “And you’re good with that?”

  He nodded. “Judge Hawkins isn’t the only person in this building who has a big heart.”

  Chapter 13

  Outside the courthouse, waiting for their ride, Dan gave credit where due. “Kudos, Jimmy. That was quite impressive.”

  “Just doing what I do.”

  “Query. When you make your strawberry cream pies, do you use a flour crust or a graham cracker crust?”

  Jimmy made a snorting sound. “I’ve never made a pie in my life.”

  His eyes bulged. “You promised that woman three pies!”

  Jimmy smiled. “Didn’t I hear you can cook?”

  DAN WENT STRAIGHT TO the courthouse first thing next morning. He met with Judge Hawkins and, without doing anything inappropriate, made sure she understood the urgency of the situation. She agreed to issue an order requesting that the government delay deportation proceedings pending the resolution of the adoption case. “Requesting,” of course, being the nice word courts used when issuing orders to the government. He also managed to get the judge to set the adoption hearing down in her earliest setting, near the end of the month. Since he would represent Gabriella, the court appointed a guardian ad litem to represent Esperanza.

  He felt good about it. But he wondered why Mr. K thought his crack team needed to get involved in an adoption. He had said something vague about “powerful forces,” and to be sure, some people had strong feelings about immigration issues, but surely no one would take it out on this poor girl.

  He expected to have a free day he could spend decorating his new office, or perhaps scuba diving, or thinking about what nonsense he would buy with his generous new salary.

  He was not expecting to be greeted by a sea of dour, mournful faces the instant he entered the office.

  Why was it every time he felt happy—no one else was?

  “What’s happened?” he asked, surpassing the niceties. All three of his new partners glanced up from the kitchen counter, but no one spoke. “What’s gone so
uth?”

  “Our adoption,” Maria said, stirring her pumpkin spice latte, or chai tea, or whatever it was.

  “I just spoke to the judge,” he replied. “We’re set for the 29th, first up. It’s gonna happen.”

  Garrett frowned. “He doesn’t know.”

  The gloom must be contagious, because he felt it creeping across his body. “Know what? What happened to Esperanza?”

  Garrett cleared his throat. “It’s not her. It’s Gabriella. She’s currently residing in the city lockup. Since late last night.”

  “Why?”

  “Murder One.”

  “No way. Who died? I didn’t hear about anything.”

  “It’s that big mess near the Trademark.”

  “They think she murdered the gang lord? I thought the cops were going after Emilio!”

  “He’s been arrested too,” Jimmy explained. “Gossip down at the courthouse is that she was in deep with him. Worked with him. Part of his gang.”

  “That’s absurd. Did you look at her house?”

  “Could be a front. As the cops tell it, the whole confrontation at the Trademark was a trap. They knew the rival gang would come after Emilio when he got out, so they set up a counter-hit.”

  “And they think Gabriella was a conspirator?”

  Jimmy took a deep breath. “Dude—they think she was the shooter.”

  “No way in hell.”

  “That’s the charge. Emilio has been arrested on a conspiracy rap, but they think Gabriella pulled the trigger. I got a look at the evidence sheet. They’ve already logged in a gun that ballistics says was the murder weapon. And the CSIs say her prints are on it.”

  “But that—that—”

  “They found it hidden at her house.”

  He felt as if the room had suddenly started spinning.

  “So,” Maria said, handing him a coffee, “it would appear that Mr. K had uncommon insight. As usual.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Seems we need our criminal law expert after all.”

  He remained completely flabbergasted. “This makes no sense. What possible motivation could Gabriella have to kill anyone? You met her. Did she seem like a killer?”

  “Sometimes people fool you.”

  “They don’t fool me. She’s not the type. She’s got a pending adoption, which this obviously screws over. She loves Esperanza. She has nothing to gain from murder.”

  Garrett pushed a file in his direction. “Except, perhaps, she did.”

  He grabbed the file and thumbed through. It barely took a second to grasp Garrett’s point. “The victim who died was Jorge Sanchez. That’s Esperanza’s cousin. The sex trafficker.”

  “The one Gabriella feared might recruit Esperanza into his virgin prostitution ring.” Garrett arched an eyebrow. “See any motivation yet?”

  He closed the file. “The police think she did it to protect the girl?”

  Maria looked him right in the eyes. “Isn’t that the exact same reason you took on this case?”

  Chapter 14

  Dan drove to the jailhouse with his new partners. Garrett split off for the court clerk’s office to see what had been filed so far. Jimmy worked the front desk for the holding cells, greasing the wheels with an elderly man named Joe he had apparently known since the dawn of time. Joe decided who got to see the people being detained, and at this stage, it was a challenge even for lawyers to get in. They weren’t attorneys of record yet and no one had asked for them. Until they spoke to Gabriella and she retained them, technically they didn’t represent her. Unfortunately, unlike on television, you couldn’t just declare yourself to be someone’s lawyer and bully your way inside.

  Jimmy got them in with a combination of bonhomie, chitchat about whether Superman was stronger than the Incredible Hulk, and tickets to a Rays game. Inside, they were escorted to a visitation room decked out with rows of small booths, each divided by a Plexiglas screen and augmented with an old-style telephone receiver. These always struck him as something out of a Turkish prison movie, not something you’d expect to see in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Who exactly was this set-up supposed to protect, and from what? Were they protecting the lawyers and loved ones? The inmates? Did they fear someone might make a break for it, in this tiny room with guards posted in six different places? It seemed unnecessarily oppressive, another reminder that the government held all the cards and everyone was expected to conform and obey.

  A FEW MOMENTS LATER, a female guard brought Gabriella into the room. She looked horrible. Technically, she had only been behind bars a few hours, but she looked as if she’d been there for a week, maybe a year. Her hair was a rat’s-nest mess. Her eyes seemed sunken and hollow. Even her skin seemed paler, though realistically, a few hours in jail shouldn’t have made that much difference. Maybe it was the phosphorescent lighting.

  Gabriella picked up the phone receiver. “What happened to Esperanza? Is she safe?”

  He explained. “The marshals took her into custody when you were arrested. She’s been taken to an ORR camp run by ICE. I’m sure she hates it, but she’s safe. We’ll visit her as soon as they permit it.”

  Maria leaned in. “We will take care of her, Gabriella. Anything she needs or wants, we’ll provide.”

  He hoped that brought Gabriella some measure of comfort. “The state has brought charges of first-degree murder against you. Would you like us to serve as your lawyers?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Her face somehow seemed both sad and expressionless. She had a zombie cast, almost as if she weren’t really there. Perhaps she was trying to distance herself from this horrific situation. Some kind of psychological astral projection.

  “Of course you have a choice. You can hire anyone you want. And if you don’t, the state will appoint a public defender.”

  “I can’t pay you anything.”

  “I’m not asking you to pay me anything. I’m asking whether you want me to represent you.”

  “Fine. It will not make any difference.”

  Maria leaned into the phone receiver. “Gabriella, can I bring you anything?”

  “You can bring it, but they will not let me have it.”

  “Are you getting everything you need? I know how rough it can be for a woman to survive in a place like this.” She paused. “Most of the guards are not tuned into the...particular needs of a woman.”

  “I need nothing. What does it matter? We all know where this will end.”

  He gazed at her, trying to figure her out. She acted as if she had already been convicted. Was this a manifestation of despair? Or guilt? “Let’s start at the beginning. I want you to tell me everything. Please. Do not hold anything back, no matter how embarrassing or potentially incriminating. If you keep secrets from your lawyers, you’re shooting yourself in the foot. It will come out at trial and we won’t be prepared. Tell us—”

  “I did not kill that man. I did not shoot anyone.”

  He would never have posed that question. Every defense lawyer knew it was best not to ask. If the client confessed, it put you in an impossible position, since you are ethically barred from assisting any client in lying to a court. “Okay. Good to know. But there is a lot of evidence stacked against you.”

  “It is a frame. They need a scapegoat and they want me out of the way.”

  “Slow down. I don’t know who ‘they’ are. Get me up to speed. Start at the beginning. Sanchez is the sex trafficker from El Salvador, right?”

  “True.”

  “When we talked at your house yesterday, you didn’t mention that he’d been killed.”

  “It makes no difference. His operation will be taken over by his brother.”

  “The police say you worked for Emilio López.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Also true.”

  His heart sank.

  “I had nothing to do with...his business. I just ran errands for him. Small tasks. I needed to survive. I worked two jobs, but it wasn’t enough. Afte
r Esperanza’s parents were killed, my needs were even greater. The girl needs clothing, food, school supplies—”

  “You don’t have to explain to me how expensive life is,” Maria said.

  “Easy for you to say, in your fancy clothes, carrying a handbag that cost more than I make in a month. Do you have children?”

  “No.”

  “Then you have no idea what it is to care for a child. Or how expensive.”

  To her credit, Maria did not appear to take offense. “Nobody’s gonna fault you for working, even if the job wasn’t perfect. We’ve all held jobs we didn’t love. We’ve all worked for bosses we couldn’t stand.”

  “But just to be clear,” he rejoined, “you’re saying you didn’t do anything illegal.”

  “I’m not deaf and dumb. I heard the talk. But I had no part in drugs or anything illegal. You’ve seen my neighborhood. Everyone is some kind of crook. And the other neighborhoods are not interested in someone like me. What are your choices? What jobs are available? None, unless you want to clean hotel rooms for the rest of your life.”

  “So you worked for Emilio. Fine. Why was there bad blood between Emilio and Sanchez? Why this big shootout? As far as I can tell, they ran different businesses. Sanchez was involved in sex trafficking. Emilio’s world was drugs.”

  “They both wanted to expand,” she explained. “Turf wars, that is a part of life in the gangs. Hard as it is to imagine, street drug sales are diminishing. Too much competition from opioids. Prescription drugs that are technically legal. Emilio’s thugs can’t compete.”

  “But sex never goes out of style,” Maria said. “There’s always some would-be pimp looking to ruin a girl’s life.”

  “Why was Sanchez in the United States?” he asked. “You said he ran his operation from El Salvador.”

  “I do not know, but they knew he was here, and Emilio didn’t like it. Some say Sanchez set that trap for Emilio, but people in our neighborhood think Emilio set the trap for Sanchez, to eliminate him so he could take over the sex trade.”

  “Did Emilio know about Esperanza?”

  “Yes. And so did Sanchez. He...wanted her.”