Page 1 of Lethal Justice

Chapter One

Frida Montalvo leanedback in her chair and rubbed her eyes as she looked around her now dark office. Her assistants had long gone home, even her precious right-hand woman Rina, but Frida was used to working late and alone, especially since she had established her law firm in Miami all by herself many years ago.

With a sigh, she rolled her neck before looking back at the documents strewn over her desk. Many more were still inside the boxes at her feet. What the city of Miami and Chief Randall had asked of her was no small task. She knew, as soon as she’d realized the implications and how this particular case would reanimate bad memories from her past, she should’ve said no. Or perhaps that was the very reason she’d accepted the case.

A gang war was brewing in Miami. Frida knew the signs all too well, and there was no doubt about it. However, the chief of police contacting her a few days ago had been the real surprise. It wasn’t standard procedure to bring in an external consultant, especially a lawyer. Still, when he’d explained his suspicions concerning the District Attorney’s office, it had all become clearer and yet considerably more dangerous.

Frida had known Chief Randall a long time, in fact, from way back when she was still in Los Angeles. When they’d met again here in Miami after so many years, only a quick nod of his head had confirmed he remembered her, but he hadn’t engaged in conversation. It was probably for the best. She didn’t want to bring ghosts from the past to Miami.

However, it had become alarmingly obvious that ‘what had been’ couldn’t be left behind.

. Her past had caught up with her, which explained why she was in her office at this time of night working, instead of curled up on the sofa with a chick-flick and a glass of wine.

Chief Randall trusted her, and she was honored by that. He trusted her more than Pool, the District Attorney, and couldn’t risk handing the DA papers that could get destroyed or become weapons in the hands of the gang leaders. Not until he could be sure that no one from the DA’s office was involved and that everyone working in his house was clean as a whistle, which he apparently doubted.

One by one, she replaced the papers in the boxes before locking them inside the small fireproof room in her office where she kept all her important documents.

It would take time to dig through all the evidence that had been gathered and make sense of it, and even longer to assess if any of it was enough to accuse the gang members, or even someone in the attorney’s office of corruption—or worse.

Tomorrow would be another long day, and Frida knew she’d need all her wits about her to accomplish the task given to her. If she were successful in her investigation, it could be the opportunity and break her small firm dearly needed to make it into the big leagues.

There was no way she could fail. The thought of a gang war breaking out like the one that still left her waking in the night drenched with sweat, a revival of her own personal nightmare, had her sweating even more.

Grabbing her bag and setting the alarm system, she closed the door behind her, breathing in the warm summer night air.

Frida knew when she’d left LA, that she’d need to be by the ocean, and Miami had been the logical choice. That, and the possibilities for her business. Nowhere better to grow a law firm than in a city built on crime. Stunning as it was here, the underbelly of crime still had its teeth sunk deep into the fabric of Miami.

The night was beautiful, warm, and full of promise as Frida stepped onto the street. Her feet ached from a long day in heels, and she wondered if she had the strength to walk to the food truck a few streets down and grab chorizo empanadas for dinner.

Thoughts of mouth-watering food were slowly pushed aside by a nagging feeling of being followed. Frida cast a glance behind her and saw nothing but couldn’t shake the feeling, quickening her pace.

Her office was in a nice neighborhood, but it was quiet after the sun went down, with little foot traffic, leaving her alone. Reaching into her bag, she held her pepper spray, ready to make any stalker regret his poor decision to target her.

After taking a deep breath, she turned to face whoever had made her inner alarm tingle, but she couldn’t see anyone behind her. The sidewalk was empty as far as she could see.

As she continued walking, it was impossible to shake the feeling tightening her gut.

Her mama always said that you had a gut feeling for a reason and should never ignore it, and she was right. Her first thought was to head straight to her apartment, but she refused to let fear overtake logic, and in any case, if she were being followed, she couldn’t go home. It would be foolish to lead someone to her home, and Frida was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. Instead, as planned, she went in the opposite direction, following the enticing smell of grilled meat.

By the time she’d had her second empanada and grabbed a water bottle, her nerves and tiredness had taken a back seat to the wonderfully seasoned meal. Invigorated, Frida removed her beautiful but torturous designer shoes, stuffing them in her bag. Feeling the still-warm concrete beneath her feet, she made her way home. Her mama would freak out if she saw her going barefoot on the sidewalk, but Frida loved the feeling of nothing on her feet.

The tree leaves shimmered above her head as she turned the corner, and the smell of the city mixed with the ocean, making her smile.

Taking the stairs to her second-story apartment two-by-two, and causing her skirt to slide up her thighs, she unlocked the door and let her bag drop by the entrance. As she moved inside, switching on the lights, she was glad to see some cool air had remained in her apartment, despite the heat of the day.

Torn between pouring herself a glass of crisp white wine or having a hot bath, she instead let herself fall on her couch while she gave herself a minute to consider the options.

Now immobile, her brain started working again, trying to slot pieces of evidence together, like puzzle pieces floating in clear liquid. Not enough to make any sense of it all but, despite only being at the beginning of the work, she felt its importance in her bones. Not only as a lawyer but as a person… a link, even indirect, to her own life, to her past.

With renewed energy, Frida was about to get her bag and continue her reading of the case when the wood floor creaked in her home office. Her entire body tensed. Her front door had been locked, her alarm… had her alarm sounded when she’d entered? As the blood rushed in her veins and her ears buzzed, she couldn’t remember. How could she be so careless?

Her hand went to the remote control and she turned on the television, leaving it on a random news channel at a moderate sound level. Only then, did she go to her bag that she’d left in the entrance hall.

Keeping her cool was difficult, but she wasn’t stupid enough to face an intruder on her own. Not when her gun was in her bedroom, past her office.

Her fingers found her cell phone and Frida almost scolded herself for being silly as everything remained quiet. Had she imagined the sound? Had the stress and anticipation of this secretive case messed with her radar?

It made her hesitate, her fingers hovering over the number. Maybe she should make sure she was indeed in danger before alerting anyone.