“I am your daughter.”
Jo saw her mom’s eyes glisten. A tear might fall.
“And I am proud to be your mother.”
Jo inhaled deeply and tears started falling down her cheeks. Somehow Mom’s stayed dry. “Then you know I could use a hug right about now?”
Mom stood up and hugged her daughter tight. She pulled away and wiped the tears on Jo’s cheeks. “Jo. You know how I always say things that hurt you. I have something I want to show you but I really don’t want to hurt you. It’s not my goal. But I think you should know. If you don’t already.”
Jo shuffled a few tiny steps backward. She tugged her blouse taut to steady herself. “What’s that?”
Mom pulled the laptop screen open. “Sit down. It looks like your friend Dzuy might be involved with someone.”
Jo sat down and looked at the image on the computer screen. It sure looked like it was Dzuy’s picture on the left. The banner showed him and a pretty young woman in a swimsuit in an infinity pool overlooking an ocean. Jo scrolled down and saw vacation pictures with Dzuy and the same woman.
Jo slouched down in her chair. Having one mental image of her perfect parents’ life shattered was all she could handle right now. Her potentially perfect partner might have a philandering penis. Jo’s body tensed. I’m not a side-chick.
Jo felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder. She was torn. She wanted to yell at Mom for hurting her but also thank her for showing her. She wanted to attack Dzuy and defend him at the same time. She missed the clarity of her old jobs. Keep them out of jail or get them into jail at almost any cost. Things in the real world were so – confusing.
Jo looked up at Mom. “Thanks for showing me this. As you can see, he’s not hiding his past. We just met and are taking it slow as we both work through a few things.”
Mom smiled warmly at her. “No judgment Jo. Just thought you should know. And for the record, he was delightful.” She pointed to the screen. “If this isn’t trouble, then it isn’t trouble.”
Of course it was trouble, Jo wanted to scream. She held her composure. “Let’s not worry about someone who might or might not become a part of my life. How are you holding up with Dad and his prostate… issue.” She still couldn’t bring herself to say cancer.
“We’re getting older Jo. Little health issues are to be expected. Dad says they caught it real early and it shouldn’t be a problem, I trust him. He’ll probably be bored of the house and back at work in a few weeks.”
Jo tried to remember her parents’ exact ages. The fact that her dad was approaching seventy and couldn’t consider retirement was depressing. With heavy eyes, Jo looked up. “I know we don’t communicate well. But I know how much you love me. If I can help in any way when Dad has surgery and radiation, let me know.”
“Thanks Jo. I love you too,” Mom said and leaned over to close the laptop.
Chapter 6
Jo sprawled out like a starfish on the queen size bed she had gotten for her fifteenth birthday. She wanted to tell someone how her world had come crashing down. She wanted to vent. She wanted to talk to Jami, but promised her dad she wouldn’t. For some strange reason that upset her, she really wanted to talk to Dzuy. She wanted to know what the hell he was doing with another woman on Facebook after kissing her like that. He just had to be so wonderful at dinner. And such a great kisser. God damn Dzuy.
Jo rolled off the bed to get her phone. She opened her purse, noticing the Trader Joe’s bag. Like her twelve-year-old self would have done, she stashed the money inside the fitted sheet under her mattress. It would do for now. If she had more cash payments, she would deposit them to her parents account or maybe get a safe for her office.
Looking into her purse again, Jo frowned at both of her cell phones. She was going to have to tell all of her contacts about her new personal phone number. Definitely not tonight. Looking at her cheap new phone, she saw several text messages. She recognized her sister’s number. Jami texted how much she liked Dzuy. She read another message from Jason Miley, thanking her for appearing for him and asking if he should mail or epay her for appearing. An unknown number texted her asking if the person could meet to discuss work at ten am at her office.
Thinking she would take almost any case that would pay, without thinking of the risks of meeting with someone she didn’t know, Jo wrote back that she would have time for a short meeting at ten am.
She set the new phone down on her nightstand and hopped back onto her bed with her old phone, to pull up her email. Brad Gecina wanted to see what information Jo was able to find and to talk strategy. She emailed him to come to her office at eleven am. No other emails warranted responses so she tapped on her contact for Dzuy and stared at his name.
She stared blankly at the screen. How much crazy did she want to let out? She shut her brain down and magically her fingers typed for several seconds. She looked at the screen and was thoroughly impressed with herself.
[Thank you for coming to dinner. You were amazing. So amazing that my mom decided to cyber stalk you when I was talking with my dad –terrible news about dad. Mom found your Facebook with pictures with a tall beautiful woman. Made for an awkward end of the night. What are you up to?]
She pressed ‘send’ and stared at the phone, willing it to buzz with a response. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Nothing. She dropped the phone on her bed and walked down the hall to the bathroom she had shared with Jami. Her routine of brushing her teeth and washing her face brought little comfort as she wondered if Dzuy was responding right now.
First thing she did when she got back to her room was look at her phone. No message. She changed into pajamas, set her alarm and crawled into her tightly-made bed.
After twenty minutes of hugging a small pillow and debating if she was a selfish daughter, her eyelids finally started to get heavy. “Buzz,” her cell phone vibrated and the screen lit up to show a new text message had come in.
[Sorry to hear about more bad news. You okay? I’d like to explain about Facebook. Too long a story to text. I’m at the office now. Traveling tomorrow night until Sunday morning. Quick lunch tomorrow? Chance to explain?]
[Fine. Lunch tomorrow downtown. Noon.] Jo responded immediately. She turned off the phone, hoping to take a little control of her life.
Her alarm blared at eight am. She had an awful night’s sleep and didn’t want to get out of bed. She looked at her room, feeling like a teenager wanting to stay home from school. “F that,” Jo said and kicked off the covers.
Bathroom, coffee, shower, make-up, dress, second cup of coffee to go, and Jo drove to her office excited to have some control in her life. She would make money and help her parents. She would decide if Dzuy was worth her time. She felt in control. And that feeling lasted until she was in her office sitting behind her desk staring at her cell phone, trying to figure out who was coming into her office at ten.
Jo looked at her computer screen and checked the court calendar for arraignments, Tai Nguyen’s was today at one thirty. With that chance meeting in mind, she pulled up her retainer agreement with Brad Gecina and modified it so it was just a skeleton that could have the blanks hand-written in, in case she signed up another client like Tai Nguyen.
Over the whir of the printer Jo heard a knock at her office door. She stepped around her desk and, as she approached the glass door, saw a short man wearing a starched white button-down shirt and khaki pants. Jo noticed his clean shaven head, guessed the Hispanic man was thirty years old and no taller than five foot three. She felt relieved that her ten am mystery meeting appeared to be no threat.
Jo unlocked the door and pushed it. The man caught it smoothly, opening it further to let himself in.
“Hi. I’m Joanna Channing.” She extended her hand.
“Marcos Omar,” the man said as he gave her hand a firm shake.
Jo was picturing a much more intimidating man. This man seemed like a bank teller who was maybe a wrestler back in college that stayed fit. Jo smiled at him. “Pleas
e have a seat.”
She noticed Omar scanning her office and looking at the plaques. “Mr. Omar, I am going to see my client today. Can I tell him that everything is resolved between you two?”
While staring at her district attorney plaque Omar snorted and asked, “Did you make those plaques yourself?”
Jo’s face reddened. “Excuse me?”
Jo felt Omar staring at her. He said, “Looks to me like you’re trying to market yourself as having experience as a PD and DA. I don’t see your diploma, your bar certificate. Your walls are bare except for those. And they look to me like they were made by the same guy. I was just wondering if you had them made yourself.”
Jo’s mouth opened slightly and she was speechless for being called out on her plaques. “Mr. Omar. I just opened this office and haven’t had a chance to properly decorate. I will be putting up my certifications and some artwork shortly. I had these available so I just put them up.”
Omar smirked. “You don’t lie often do you?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Omar. Why did you ask for this meeting?” Jo asked firmly gripping the arms of her chair.
“I wanted to meet you before I decide if I want to hire you.”
“As you know, I represent Tai Nguyen. Before I could represent you, I would need to make sure that there was nothing conflicting in representing both of you. And if there was a potential conflict, I would need both of you to sign a conflict of interest waiver.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem,” Omar said, then nodded back at the plaques. “Why didn’t you just lie to me and tell me those were gifts from the PD and DA?”
Jo released her grip on the arms of her chair and put her hands in her lap. “Your second question was spot on. Because I’m not a liar.”
Omar squinted to see the fine print on the plaques. “You don’t even lie on the plaques. They just commemorate five years of service at each office. But they imply they were given to you by the office.”
Jo thought for a second, wanting desperately to move the topic away from her stupid plaques that she would be taking down as soon as Omar left her office. “I’m proud of my ten years of work experience. Which I’m guessing is why you’re here. You are charged, or going to be charged, and you want someone with a great track record who knows both sides of the system.” Jo felt Omar’s eyes focus on her mouth and hands as she spoke. Her lips were tight but she spoke clearly. She moved little when she spoke. She seemed like a calm, coiled snake.
Omar nodded. “Something like that.”
Jo sat quietly, waiting to see if Omar would resume talking. Five seconds passed until Jo asked, “Then what brings you here?”
“Like I said, I might want to hire you. What do you know about me?”
Jo shook her head. “You seem to be important to my client. He wants to be in your good graces. Other than that, nothing.”
“You never heard of me from your last job?”
Jo leaned back in her chair as she thought. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Interesting. So tell me, Ms. Joanna, why did you decide to play messenger for Tai and give me that phone number?”
“I felt it was in my client’s best interests.”
Omar quickly raised and lowered his eyebrows with anticipation at his own next question. “You worried about what might happen after you pass that phone number to me?”
Jo lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “A little. But all I did was pass on a phone number. I didn’t help hurt anyone. And if a rapist got hurt because I passed on a number, I could live with that.” Jo thought about how much her family hurt indirectly from a rapist and how it literally cost the young girl’s life.
Omar leaned back in his chair and quietly said, “I think I get you.”
I’m glad someone does, Jo thought. “Just for the record. If I learn that someone is going to harm someone, the attorney-client privilege doesn’t apply and I am supposed to tell the police. We have a justice system for a reason. How would you feel if you hurt the wrong person?”
Omar waived his hand dismissively. “You think our system works? OJ didn’t do it? Bill Cosby will pay the same price as a random Joe would for hurting all those women?”
Gingerly, Jo shook her head. “Of course our system isn’t perfect. But it works well.” Mostly, Jo thought, realizing the system just screwed over her father.
Omar put his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “If you become my lawyer I will make you a promise. No one innocent will ever be hurt by me. Period.” Omar leaned back in his chair and observed Jo.
“What kind of representation do you need?”
Omar clasped his hands together. “How Tai got the message to me really got me thinking how helpful it would be to have someone who could bring confidential messages to people. Not only in jail. But in prison. I think I have some tremendous business opportunities but all the communication is recorded so I can’t meet with prospective clients myself.” Omar unclasped his hands and pointed at her. “It would be wonderful if my attorney had a thriving appeals practice and talked to people in prison from time to time.”
Jo’s face scrunched up and displayed a crooked frown. “You want a confidential courier service?”
“That’s a part of it. Bigger picture. I want to branch out my services and offer more than I currently do. I want to expand into mediation. I want to make a commission for reducing conflicts between groups. Conflicts are bad for business. Let’s say that two groups having competing interests in a particular marketplace, they would settle their disputes by hurting each other. To get everyone in the same room to discuss it is very dangerous to both sides. But if someone could represent everyone’s interests and help mediate disputes, business could be a lot better for everyone.”
On one level, Omar made a lot of sense. On another, it was entirely crazy and ridiculous. “This lawyer getting ping ponged around – you don’t think one group would want to take the lawyer out?”
“Not if people knew that I supported this lawyer.” Omar looked at the file cabinet against her wall. “And if this attorney had a lot of information from different clients, I would imagine there would be a great incentive to keep the attorney from being harmed. If there was a crime against the attorney the police could search through the attorney’s records relating to a criminal investigation and potentially uncover some damaging information.”
“You’re quick.” Jo wondered who Marcos Omar was. “What exactly is your current business? Why are you coming to me?”
Omar tucked his left foot under his right thigh and leaned against the side of his chair. “I’m a recovery agent. People who are owed money assign me their debt and I collect. My standard fee is a fifty percent split of recovery.”
“Like a collections lawyer?”
Omar smirked. “I’m not that ruthless.”
Jo couldn’t help but smile.
“I use attorneys from time to time to file lawsuits. Usually we settle out of court.” Omar smiled at her and asked, “Why you?”
Jo nodded.
“I wasn’t sure until I met you today. During our brief chat on the phone you seemed direct and capable so I looked you up. You have great experience and probably some decent connections. You ran for judge. Started your own practice. I need someone smart, capable, and ambitious if I’m going to expand like I plan.”
Jo raised her palms up and shrugged her shoulders. “Mr. Omar, I’m not sure if I would be capable of becoming your ping pong ball or if I’m even interested in it. If you get in trouble with the law, or have one-off projects, or know of anyone that does, I am a good attorney and I offer reasonable rates.”
Omar cupped his hands together and blew air into them like a pitcher might before handling a ball. As he rubbed his hands he said, “Actually, I do have a project for you. I was at an Indian Reservation Casino a few weeks ago and won forty grand but they forgot to give me the form for my tax winnings. Would you help me get the paperwork from them on it?”
Jo looked q
uizzically at Omar. “You want someone to report income, or winnings, or whatever, to the IRS so you have to pay taxes?”
Omar smirked. “What can I say? I’m too honest?”
“Oooh,” Jo said as she thought she understood. “You want to pay taxes on money that came from somewhere you don’t want to declare.”
“That’s not what I said. I said they didn’t give me the forms for my winnings. If you can get me a 1099 for forty thousand dollars I’ll pay you a thousand.”
“I’m not committing tax fraud or helping anyone commit tax fraud,” Jo said defensively.
“Counselor, what is fraud?”
“Taking something of value by using false pretenses,” Jo reflexively answered.
Omar held up a finger. “First, you are not using false pretenses. I told you they forgot to 1099 me for winnings.” Omar held up a second finger. “Second, what thing of value are you taking from the casino? Or even from the government?”
Jo leaned back in her chair pondering the question and remarking how sharp Omar was. “You already have possession of the winnings. Even if you didn’t actually win the money, you aren’t taking anything of value from the casino and you are actually paying more in taxes than you would without getting a 1099. So by definition it would seem you couldn’t be committing fraud. But probably some sort of federal law for money laundering or tax something or other. Mr. Omar, I’ve been practicing in state offenses only so I would have to research the area.”
“Understood,” Omar said and put his hands in his lap.
“How about you let me ask my client if he has any problems with me representing you – may I disclose that you wish to retain me for a tax issue?”
“Sure.”
Upon hearing a knock at the office door, Jo and Omar both looked at the door. Jo looked at her watch and figured it was Brad, a few minutes early for their eleven am meeting.
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