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

he paused the constant drum of his fingers and stared straight into my soul. “There’s a right way to do things… and a smart way to do things. We could take what you found to the DA, have the facility shut down, and the judge thrown in jail. Or, we could have a judge that owes us and is eager to help when we find ourselves in need of a favor.”

“Of course,” I muttered.

He was right, from a strictly business point of view. He had a business to run, and his employees often found themselves in a courtroom. I’d already represented three of them, if I counted the one that landed me my current job, and I’d represented his son, too. He could protect them all by having the judge in his pocket. Besides, the cartel leader would be a criminal making a deal with another criminal. It wasn’t like the judge was an honorable magistrate being blackmailed into doing something he wouldn’t normally do. Osvaldo would just become Judge Williams’ next friend with deep pockets that would pay for his lifestyle. But what about the other kids at Everson? What did I owe them?

“Do you have the judge’s number?” the scarred man across the desk from me asked.

“Yes,” I said as I tugged my cell phone out of my pocket.

“Good,” the dark-eyed man nodded and flashed his three gold teeth as he smiled. “Go ahead and request a meeting with the not so honorable judge. I’m sure he’ll be eager to hear from you since he sent that cop to threaten you.”

“Sure,” I muttered while I searched my contact list for the number to the courthouse.

The directory picked up after the first ring, and I clicked through the options until I found the office of Judge Travis Williams. I waited for someone to pick up, but the phone continued to ring. I glanced out the window at the setting sun and realized they would be gone for the day. The judge wouldn’t get my message until the next day.

“Judge Williams,” I began as the answering machine clicked on. “This is Roberto Torres. I believe you remember who I am. I’d like to set up a meeting with you. You have my number. Call me back as soon as you get this.”

I hung up the phone and swallowed the bile that rose from my stomach. It was for the best, I told myself. I had made my choice to work for Osvaldo with open eyes, and as long as the magistrate made the right choice, both sides could continue on as if nothing had happened.

“Good job, Jipato,” Osvaldo said as he nodded his head in approval. “Now, go enjoy the rest of your night. But you call Alvaro as soon as the judge gets in touch with you.”

“Of course,” I said with a nod as I scooped up my briefcase and stood to leave. “Have a good night, gentleman.”

My legs were like jelly as I walked out to my car. I’d survived another meeting, my client would be out of juvie, and the judge would finally learn the consequences of accepting bribes.

I just hoped that I hadn’t slipped too far into the cartel’s world.

Chapter 18

I was on autopilot as I started the drive back to my apartment. I replayed the conversation with Osvaldo, the subtle threat that my life would be forfeit if I didn’t choose the ‘smart way’ of doing things, and the constant metal click of Alvaro’s switchblade as he opened and shut it in a steady rhythm.

Guilt tore into me as I drove home. I took my vows as an officer of the court seriously, and blackmailing the judge went against everything I knew. But, I thought to myself as I pulled to a stop at a red light, it was a gray area, and it was one I’d walked through before as a defense lawyer. I had convinced people to do the ‘smart thing’ to haggle for my client’s freedom, and I told myself it was no different than those moments.

Besides, the judge was corrupt. He’d willingly sentenced hundreds of teens to the Everson Juvenile Detention Center even though he knew that the facility was subpar and the sentence was unjust. He had ruined the lives of countless people with his greed, and as long as he didn’t do anything stupid, he wouldn’t come to any harm. He would finally do some good when he released Camilo, and he’d have more money in his campaign fund.

It was a win-win. My mother would receive her treatments, the judge would learn his lesson and work to help my client, and Eloa would take down the facility so that no one else would have to live in the terrible place. But that presented a different problem, since I’d tipped Eloa off to the possibility of judicial corruption. My client wouldn’t be happy if her investigation took down his pet judge as well.

My stomach growled as the light turned green, and I debated whether I should go home to eat the arroz con pollo in my freezer, or if I should call Eloa and ask for a meeting. The sooner I let the beautiful reporter know that I had to bow out of our investigation, the better. So I fished my phone out of my pocket and searched for the Brazilian bombshell’s number to invite her to dinner.

“Hello?” she answered on the first ring.

She was out of breath, and I could hear the gentle whir of a treadmill mixed with the steady pounding of her feet as she ran.

“Hey, is this a bad time?” I asked.

“No,” she panted. “I’m just getting in a quick workout. Is everything okay?”

“I know our dinner isn’t until tomorrow, but do you think we could meet tonight instead?” I questioned as I tried not to picture her on the treadmill