Until you decide to switch sides, good luck.
Client: Lucas Hunter III
Illegal Gambling & Racketeering (Main Charges)
Wire Fraud (Sixteen Counts)
False Imprisonment (Three Counts)
Attempted Murder (Eight Counts)
The paper slips from my hands, and everything around me fades into a blur.
What the fuck…
OBLIGATION (N.):
A LEGAL DUTY TO PAY OR DO SOMETHING.
JAMESON
Friday
“What part of‘Nevertalk to the police without your lawyer’ is hard for you to understand, Mr. Grisham?” I glare at my latest client. “Not a fucking word.”
“They were being so nice.” He smiles. “They brought me my favorite donuts.”
“To coerce a confession out of you.” I slam my hand against the interrogation table. “How do you not know this?”
“They were cinnamon and cream filled,” he says. “You probably wouldn’t have been able to resist either.”
I shut the pink box he’s staring at.
“You have a lawyer,” I say. “A very fucking good one who you pay a shit ton of money to every month. You do not talk to police,and you never ever speak to a detective without me being right beside you, clear?”
“Clear…” He nods. “Am I screwed now?”
“No.” I look at my watch. “Luckily for you, they didn’t read your Miranda rights, so nothing you said can be used. You’ll spend tonight in jail, though. I’ll be sure to get you out tomorrow.”
“Okay, great.” He pauses. “Do you think I stole all that money from my boss?”
I know you did.“My job is to make sure the jury doesn’t, Mr. Grisham.”
“That’s fair.” He looks at the donut box. “Can I have those back until they formally arrest me?”
I slide it to him and leave the room.
Rushing across the street to the courthouse, I make it through security and hear a loud, piercing, heart-wrenching scream sift down the hallway.
I move closer, seeing security guards escorting a heavy-set man out of the farthest courtroom.
“Shhhh!” One of the guards says. “You can’t act like that in the courtroom. You’re lucky the judge isn’t holding you in contempt.”
“It’s not fair!” The man wails. “That man is a murderer and he’s getting away with it!”
“Sir, calm down or?—”
“Or what?” He yells. “I don’t have anything to live for anymore. Fuck you!”
