Page 37 of Bent, Not Broken

“So, this guy.” I pointed at a decades-old photo that looked a hell of a lot like Slater, and my guts wiggled around, worms trapped in my body. “I think he’s maybe coming up for parole. Ethically, can I… try to do anything for him?”

“That’s horrifying. Ethics are all in the eye of the beholder,” West murmured. “You know that.”

My mind raced so fast it tripped over itself. There was always something wrong in murder cases. Always something that had been mishandled, or looked over, or not appropriately presented to the jury. If I worked things right, maybe I could get an appeal started.

“I’m going to help get him free. The guy I’m seeing—”

“I can see the last name, and I’m not stupid,” West said casually. His elbow “slipped,” and he jammed it into my side.

“Fine.” I laughed when he attacked me again with his elbow. “Officer Slater must think his dad’s case is a lost cause. I’m going to help. He wasn’t sent up for life, only sixty years. The evidence must not have been entirely conclusive.”

“Fuck, back then, I’m surprised he didn’t get the electric chair.” West ran a hand over his face, but he didn’t tell me I was dreaming, or sit me down for a heart-to-heart talk the way I was sure River might. He only seemed to be staring at the screen, his brow furrowed so hard that his nose wrinkled.

Nodding, I started at the top of the article and read it again, hope buoying in my chest, stupid as it might be. “I can work with this. Slater must really want his dad out. Who wouldn’t? He didn’t want me to give him false hope, probably, but I’m sure I could do something.”

West eased away from my desk and knocked on the top of it. The crack of his knuckles on the wood brought me out of my hyperfocused stupor. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Why?” I pouted. “Now you think so?”

“This is a big job. A lot would go into it. All your free time, for starters. You said he asked you not to poke at the fire.”

“No, he told me not to snoop through his phone.”

West wheeled his chair back to his own desk. “Were you? That’s Cling Level five.”

“Eight, actually. And shut up. A boy has to know if there’s competition.” I sniffed and went back to staring at the screen. I could see why Slater hadn’t wanted to talk about this.

“Mm-hmm. I’m out,” West said. He grumbled something under his breath as he woke his computer up.

“No, help me. What do you think I should look for first?” I poked randomly through another article detailing the gruesome murders.

“Well, his conviction is public record. See if you can find out the specifics of his sentencing. The one article we looked at said sixty to life, but you know that may not be accurate. If it were me, I’d start with technicalities before I moved on to more fantastical things. Technicalities are good.” He slid his chair so firmly back under his desk that the arms cracked the wood. “Also, River won’t be happy if you don’t work on anything billable today.”

“Pish posh, let me worry about old man River.”

“I heard that,” River said from inside his office—with the door closed. I jumped and stared at the door.

“Yes, sir,” I fired back, and there was a palpably irritated silence to follow.

Smirking, I started on my real work. West left at five, as usual, and River gave me a strange appraisal when I was still pecking away at my computer as he left at seven. The second the door closed behind his back, I started researching Slater’s father again. Around nine thirty, I was grinning to myself because I’d been able to track down everything I needed to build a plausible legal strategy for early release. I didn’t need an appeal if I could be a good mouthpiece for the parole board.

River had gone to bat for two Kings recently. He’d probably have good advice on how to handle the board. I just hoped he didn’t recommend bribery because, while I had the cash, there wasn’t a chance in hell I wanted to get disbarred. It scared me a little that I was considering ways to get around that. I began printing out precedent cases to show Slater. He struck me as excitable about this, so if I proved to him that I could get his dad free, then… well, maybe he wouldn’t be mad anymore.

It was almost eleven, and the night air chilled the back of my sweaty neck as I stood on his front porch and knocked with a box of paperwork from the office in my arms. I’d left my suit jacket in my car and almost regretted it. The air had gotten downright cold, even though it was summer.

Slater opened his door and my breath caught. The light behind him cast him in shadows. His sharp jaw was set against me before I even opened my mouth, and he began to close me outside again, but I rushed forward and jammed my foot in the door. He tried to shut me out anyway, which hurt, so I talked fast.

“Your aunt Nora tried to start a Free Slater campaign. Do you know why that never took off?”

He opened the door wider and glared at me. My insides went hot and cold, confused. Usually when he was furious, sex wasn’t far behind, but right now he only seemed upset, and I hated that.

“How did—you know what? Never mind. This isn’t your business. I told you this isn’t your business.” His voice was raw like maybe he’d been yelling.

“You also said you would call and you didn’t.”

He huffed out a frustrated sound and then glared at me some more. “That was this morning. I thought I’d let myself cool down. Do we see each other every night now?”

West’s jabs about being clingy had me shifting from foot to foot as embarrassment slithered through me. “I have several proposals for how you can get your father out of prison.” I smiled and held my box up high. I wasn’t prepared for the way he grabbed the culmination of a good day’s work out of my hands, pushed me none too gently aside, and heaved his weight back like he was getting ready to do shotput. Slater hurled the box from the porch onto his lawn, the papers inside transformed into law-firm confetti. My carefully collated and paperclipped articles scattered into the four corners of the universe, and he stood there, chest heaving, with his fists clenched at his sides. Someone smarter than me probably would have taken this as their cue to leave, but now I was doubly curious.