The Cartel Lawyer by Dave Daren (popular books to read .TXT) 📗

dew and wet earth washed over me as my feet pounded along the packed dirt path. It mixed with the salty scent of the ocean to calm me in a way that the shower hadn’t accomplished, and by the time I left the slowly swaying trees behind, my mind had finally begun to clear.

I was ready to fall back into bed as soon as I got home, and I barely remembered to set the alarm on my cell phone before my eyelids grew too heavy for me to hold them up.

Only a few hours later the hateful alarm dragged me out of a pleasant dream filled with rum-soaked kisses and luscious curves. The memory of it slipped away before I’d even sat up, and I sighed as I ran my hand over my face. I would need another cold shower and a very strong cup of coffee before I was ready for court.

I showered and dressed as fast as I could so that I would have enough time to swing through a drive-thru for some Cuban coffee before I headed to the courthouse. The case would be an easy one, and it was really just a formality for Luke’s dismissal. The teen just had to appear and confirm his account, and then the judge would have no choice but to admit that the cops had made a mistake when they questioned him without his parents or legal representation. Thankfully, we weren’t facing Judge Williams again.

There was no goon outside when I emerged from my apartment. I’d be under surveillance soon enough when I met my client, though it was nice to have a break from the constant reminder from Osvaldo that he could make me disappear at any moment. Even if the last few men had been relatively pleasant, they were still there under orders, and I had no doubts that they would do whatever they were told if the boss called.

I slid into the driver’s seat and cranked up the AC. Even though it was still early, the Miami heat was already heavy with sticky humidity. I tossed my briefcase into the passenger seat and then fished out my cell phone. I had about an hour-and-a-half before I was scheduled to appear, but I needed to make sure that my teenage client would actually be there.

“Mr. Torres,” Luke said in a chipper voice that grated on my tired nerves. “I’m already up and dressed.”

“Good,” I said around a yawn.

“You sound like you just woke up,” the teen laughed, and I wondered how I’d been assigned the only teen who liked mornings.

“Haven’t had coffee yet,” I responded as I merged into the beginnings of rush hour traffic. “You should head over to the courthouse. It’s always best to be early. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes. You can wait for me inside the doors if it’s too hot.”

“Sure thing,” the young man responded. “See you soon.”

I grunted into the receiver and then hung up before I shoved the device into its holder on my dash. Thankfully, I managed to get to my favorite drive-thru coffee shop before the line was out of the parking lot.

It was a tiny building that reminded me more of a shed than an actual business, but they made some of the best Cuban coffee in Miami. The baristas worked fast enough that I never had to wait more than ten or fifteen minutes, even when the line spilled out of the parking lot and into the street.

I made a game out of timing the baristas as a way to keep myself awake, and that morning it took them eight minutes to serve the five cars in front of me. When it was finally my turn, I ordered a Cuban coffee with a little extra sweetener and loads of cream, and one of their breakfast sandwiches with bacon, eggs, and cheese.

The aluminum wrapped sandwich smelled like heaven as they handed it to me with a pile of extra napkins. I could feel the warmth through the foil, and my stomach growled as the smell of bacon, buttermilk biscuit, and cheese filled my car.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile as the barista passed me the white styrofoam cup with my coffee.

“Have a great day,” she replied with a bright grin before she hurried back to work on the next drink.

The creamy, sweet coffee coated my tongue with the first sip, and the last remnants of exhaustion abated for the moment. I took another long swig before I pulled off into a parking spot to eat the sandwich. It was extra cheesy so I had to be careful not to drip any of the delicious contents onto my suit.

I devoured my breakfast in a few bites and then cleaned up before I merged back into the congestion of cars that had already begun to fill the Miami streets. I sipped on the rest of my coffee while I inched toward the courthouse. The building wasn’t too far from the coffee joint, and I managed to find a lane that moved steadily if not exactly swiftly, so when I pulled into the courthouse parking garage, it was still pretty empty. I would be out long before the sun had a chance to turn the area into an oven, but I parked a little further away from the entrance anyways so my car would stay cooler for longer.

My client waited for me just inside the front doors of the courthouse with his cell phone in one hand and the other in his pocket. He’d worn black slacks, a light-blue button-up, and even his mop of light-brown hair looked like he’d at least run some water through the unruly waves.

“Luke,” I said with a bright smile as I strolled toward him.

“Mr. Torres,” the teen responded as he exited out of his game and stuffed his cell phone in his