Jo thought she heard a pill bottle shaking on the other end of the line. “Thank you. But it wouldn’t be proper and I don’t think it’s necessary. What’s up?”
“Generally, about warrants, and finding evidence. How does that work?”
Jo rolled her eyes at the afterhours call for this question. “Police apply to a judge for a search warrant to search a particular place or person, based on articulable evidence that there is a reasonable belief that the evidence will be there.” Jo let a little frustration creep into her voice. “This kind of information is available online. And I don’t want to help you or anyone hide evidence. I’m not allowed to do that.”
“It’s not like that. I’m just trying to understand the law.”
Jo looked through the sliding glass door and saw that Stacey and Dzuy still appeared to be picking at their plates in silence. Staying out here until she nearly froze, talking about the law actually didn’t seem so bad. “Okay. If the item is in plain sight, an officer generally won’t need a warrant. Same thing if it’s in a car and the suspect is pulled over for any potential infraction. If a warrant is issued for a home, it usually includes the entire premises, but it all depends on the judge balancing privacy versus what the police hope to achieve.”
“Entire premises?”
“No warrant is needed for public areas. No warrant is needed for un-intrusive searches. So an officer can walk around a front yard and if he sees a gun in a tree, he can pull it out and it will be admissible evidence. If he believes the gun is buried under a big tree, he’ll need a warrant because it’s intrusive, but he might not be able to get a warrant unless there is a strong reason to believe the gun will actually be there.”
“Ah. That’s what I was interested in. One more thing.”
“Okay.”
“With rape. When it’s a case of a woman saying she was raped and a guy saying it was consensual, how does that get proven? What if the guy really thinks it was with consent but the girl thinks it was rape?”
“That’s a tough question. So many of these cases go unreported because they are hard to prove beyond a reasonable doubt.”
“No easy answer?”
Jo thought about her role in getting Brad Gecina immunity. “Sometimes people who are guilty end up going free. The system isn’t perfect but no one really knows how to fix it. I guess sometimes the victim will sue in civil court, where the burden of proof is lower. So sometimes there is justice outside of the criminal system.”
Jo heard a chuckle from Omar. “That’s true.”
“Anything else?” Jo asked, as the cold started seeping into her feet.
“No. I’ll pop in to pay you for this consult soon.”
“You don’t have to. This wasn’t a consult.”
Jo waited but didn’t hear a response. “Hello?” She looked at her phone and saw that the conversation ended. She noted she had full bars. Omar just hung up on her. Again.
Jo pulled open the slider and shivered with relief when her feet hit the warmer floor. Her thin socks didn’t provide any protection against the cold, outdoor floor. “I’m sorry.”
Dzuy asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Just a client with a legal question. I turned off my ringer now. I’m really sorry to take the call but my practice is so new that I just can’t afford to not take late calls this early.”
“What kind of practice?” Stacey asked.
“She’s a lawyer,” Dzuy answered as Jo approached the table.
“Oh. What kind?”
“Criminal defense,” Jo said.
Stacey looked up at Jo. “Do you ever do will law?”
Jo shook her head. “I think you mean probate. I don’t practice in that area. If you need some help with your mom’s estate, let me know and I’ll send you the names of a few good and honest probate lawyers.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Jo responded before taking a bite of her tortellini.
“What’s criminal law like?” Stacey asked.
Jo set her fork down. “It can be intense. It can be interesting. It can be boring. It’s like most jobs, but ratcheted up, because day in and day out we’re dealing with horrible decisions made by people. It’s surprising, but the really bad guys doing really bad things are the easier cases to prosecute. It’s the gray area, when a good person does something stupid, those are the hardest cases.”
“Huh,” Stacey said then looked back down at her plate.
“She started her own law firm last week,” Dzuy added.
“Oh. Hope it goes well,” Stacey said, looking longingly at the television.
“You guys want to sit over there and relax with some TV?” Jo asked.
“Sure,” Dzuy answered.
“Okay,” Stacey responded.
Dzuy and Jo took the couch and Stacey sat in the recliner. Jo’s mind wandered to why Omar called her as they watched Friends reruns for several hours, mostly in silence. The laugh track did the only laughing that night.
Chapter 21
“Thanks for meeting me,” Omar scooted out of the booth and extended his hand to Tu Nguyen.
Tu shook his hand. “You’re welcome. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Just want to talk some business. Have you eaten?” Omar asked as he scooted back into the corner booth at the mostly-empty Denny’s.
“I eat dinner already. Maybe I get slice of pie?”
“Me too.”
Tu sat down and looked at the menu.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” Omar asked.
“Just work.”
“Where do you work at?”
“Rytech. I apps developer.”
Omar frowned. “Your brother out of jail?”
“He get out tomorrow. But they give him ankle monitor. So he have to stay at home.”
Fuck. This was my plan B, Omar thought.
The waitress approached. Tu ordered peach pie and iced tea. Omar ordered a French silk and coffee.
“How can I help?” Tu asked.
“I need to hide a present for a friend. I was thinking if I could get someone Asian dressed up in a landscape crew, with a hat, people would think he was Mexican and that would help make sure the present was a surprise.”
Tu nodded in agreement. “Sometime I drive to LA, I get hassle at checkpoint because they think I might be illegal Mexican immigrant. When they see my ID they let me go.”
Omar rubbed at his bald head. “I need to think of someone who I trust to do this but also isn’t close enough to me to possibly ruin the surprise. I’m having trouble finding the right fit to drop the present at a little office in Oceanside.”
“That close. You say dress like landscape for office delivery? I could do at six in morning. Be home, change for work and be at work on time. I think I can do.”
Omar smiled. “That’s perfect. I was thinking daytime so I’d have time to plan, but first thing in the morning is even better.”
“I can do weekend any time,” Tu offered.
Omar shook his head. “Tomorrow morning is better.” Omar held up a finger and closed his eyes and thought. Stealing a car was too risky, especially with the murder weapon in it. The truck Milk drove to get the money was already down in Mexico. Omar opened his eyes. “I got it.”
“What’s up?”
Omar tapped on his phone. “Sunrise is at six nineteen tomorrow. It will be damn dark at five in the morning. I’ll meet you at four thirty to give you clothes to change into and a car to drive up. You’ll pull right into the lot and go to the little wood chips and move them out of the way and drop the little plant and box there. Should take five minutes. You’ll have a big work hat on. You’ll have a bandana around your neck. Anyone who sees you will think you’re just doing landscaping real early. If anyone even sees you.”
“What’s in the plant?”
Omar smirked, “The plant is the present. I just want it to be a good surprise.”
Tu stared at the waitress as she approached with the
ir pie and drinks. She set them down and Omar thanked her. He cut off a big piece with his fork and shoved it in his mouth. Tu just stared at his pie.
Tu looked at Omar’s pie. “If I do this. My brudda okay?”
“He’s already okay,” Omar said with a half-full mouth. After swallowing he continued, “If you do this favor for me, I’ll give you five hundred and will look out for you and Tai if anyone messes with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and don’t worry. You’re not a part of anything dangerous. I’m just extra cautious when it comes to this surprise.” Omar pointed at Tu’s pie with his fork. “You gonna try it?”
Tu nodded and took a bite of his pie.
Omar took another big bite, then sipped on his hot coffee. “It’s going to be a long night for me,” Omar said, wondering how much more coffee he’d need. “You should get some sleep. I’ll meet you outside your place at four thirty am.”
Tu nodded.
Omar got Tu’s pant and shirt sizes as the two finished their pie and drinks. He dropped twenty dollars on the table and left a minute before Tu, heading straight for Wal-Mart. While on the road, he called a cousin and said he needed a rental car from TJ brought up to him at four am tomorrow at Tu’s address.
Omar’s first stop was the gardening aisle where he picked up a pair of thick gloves, ripped the plastic tag holding them together and put them on. He grabbed a second pair and a big sun hat. Next he picked out a huge bag of soil, a narrow, eighteen-inch planter, three succulents, and a tiny handheld shovel. A few minutes later he found boots, pants, and a long sleeve shirt that would pass as a landscapers.
Back in the garage of his Alpine home, where the drug dealer had spent a few days, Omar wore the thick gloves and put the knife in the planter. He put a little soil on top, then the three little succulent plants, and filled the rest of it with soil. It actually looked quite nice.
Ripping the tags off of Tu’s clothes, Omar dropped them on the ground. He sprinkled soil on them and stomped on them. He rubbed the dirt in with his gloved hands. Then he shook the soil off and put the clothes into the Wal-Mart bag. He loaded everything into the trunk of his three year old gray Honda Civic and threw his pair of work gloves out. He went inside, choosing to sleep on the couch for a few hours, afraid a bed might be too comfortable.
Chapter 22
Aaron Baker held his breath as he clicked open an email from the San Diego City Attorney. He skimmed quickly and exhaled rapidly when he saw the words eight million dollars.
His fingers trembled slightly with anticipation as he clicked to send an email to Cassie Young about the City’s offer.
After hitting ‘send’ he clicked through his contacts and found the number for Jo Channing, dialing it from his desk phone.
“Law Office.”
“Morning, Jo, Aaron Baker,” he said as he leaned back in his desk chair.
“Hi, Aaron, what’s up?”
“I wanted to thank you for the Cassie Young referral. I think we’re going to get it resolved this week and I’m going to estimate your referral fee will be two hundred thousand.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. Not bad for blurting out my name. My standard is to refer out ten percent to attorneys who refer me a case. The math indicates what I think my fee will be. And just because it’s a lot of money, I’m not going to change how I do business.” Aaron leaned forward and grabbed his coffee cup.
“I didn’t send her to you for any money. But to be honest, it would be a lot of help.”
Aaron took a sip. “That’s right. You just started your new practice. I’m sure some money would be a huge help.” Aaron looked at his calendar. “I’m not scheduled to be down there anytime soon, but maybe I’ll come to pick up the check from the city and we could catch up.”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
“How’s your practice going?”
“Interesting. I’ve got a few-”
“Sorry,” Aaron interrupted. “I have another call that I have to take. I’ll let you know if and when this wraps up and we can hopefully meet up soon.”
“Thank you. Bye.”
“Bye,” Aaron said as he pressed a button on the receiver. “Aaron Baker.”
“Hi, Aaron. It’s Cassie. I just saw your email on my phone. They offered eight million dollars?”
“Yes. A very solid offer.”
“That means I’ll get a check for six million dollars?”
“Correct. And you’ll want to confirm with a tax specialist, but I believe there are no income taxes, because it’s not for lost wages.”
“Oh. I never even thought about taxes.”
Aaron paused and wondered how a woman who was so well organized in the beginning hadn’t even thought of tax consequences. He wondered if someone helped her before. “It’s a good idea to think everything through. Last thing you want to do is spend a big chunk of money and then realize there is a big tax bill. I recommend you talk to your tax professional. And with six million dollars, I would also recommend you talk to a financial advisor.”
“Oh. That’s probably a good idea. Do you know one?”
“Down in San Diego, there’s a guy named Pete at New York Life who provides great investment solutions and I trust him. I can email you his contact information. And with that much money, even the big guys like JP Morgan, Goldman Sachs, they’d be interested in your account.”
“What if I only want to put like half in? Or even less than that?”
Aaron furrowed his brow. “I’m not really in a position to give financial advice. I’ll just say six million dollars is a lot of money and you would be wise to talk with people to make sure you can protect and grow it.”
“Uh, if it won’t last, should I just ask for more?”
Aaron shook his head. “If you want to reject that offer and counter, we can. I thought, after our last discussion, when we looked at the risk of litigation and that we could get a judgment for a lot less after spending a year or two arguing over the case, that eight million dollars was the number to make you content, so I pushed for that.”
“Yeah. But I’m just wondering if that’s enough. After your share. And if I give some away.”
Aaron felt frustrated but calmly said, “Cassie. This was the number I thought you wanted if we could get it quickly. That’s what I negotiated for. I have no problem rejecting, trying to get more, and taking the case all the way through a trial. I just want to make it clear that if we reject, we might not get an offer this high again. We might get a higher number, but it also could be less.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s not up to me. Let me ask you a question. Do you want six million dollars in your account within a week, or do you want to hope we can get more, but might get less, sometime down the road?”
“Oh. That’s right. Let’s do it now. Let’s accept.”
“Cassie, I don’t want to pressure you. Do you want to talk to some friends or family members? You can take a little time to decide. This is a big decision.”
“What do you think?”
Take it! Take it! Take it! Aaron thought. He steadied himself. “It’s a fair offer. It’s hard to know if we would get more or less at trial or in a later settlement. I don’t want to influence you too much. I want the decision to be your own.”
“But you think I should take it?”
Aaron shook his head. Of course she should take it. “I think we are right around the City’s best offer we can get without suing them. If we do, my fee goes up, and we would have to gross nine million to net you the same six. If we accept eight million later, my fee would eat up another seven hundred fifty thousand. We might be able to get over nine million, but we might not. If you are comfortable with netting six million dollars and having this all over in the next week or two, then yes. If you want to tell your story, then we’ll reject.”
“I don’t want to tell the story. I want to end this. Let’s take it.”
“Are you sure you do
n’t want more time?”
“Yeah. Let’s accept it.”
“Okay. I’ll send you an email summarizing our conversation. Then I will wait an hour so you have time to change your mind. If I don’t hear back from you, I’ll accept it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Thanks, Cassie.”
Aaron fired off a recap email to Cassie, stating he was going to accept the offer as she instructed and that she was to immediately email or call him if she wished to change her instructions.
What an easy and straightforward case, Aaron thought, but his big grin faded when he turned to the stack of journals and books on his desk. On the Origin of Species was not an easy read, but he had to continue working through it for his incredibly wealthy client. With this settlement, Aaron wouldn’t feel financially beholden to that client. One point eight million dollars would change his life. Not quite a retirement case, but wouldn’t make him feel compelled to work with the Aristovs just for the money.
Chapter 23
“Two hundred thousand dollars,” Jo whispered to herself, closing her eyes. She dreamed about helping her parents and paying off her campaign debt. She opened her eyes and looked around the box of an office and dreamed about a downtown office within walking distance to the court, with giant windows overlooking the water.
Even with a huge score like that Jo would still have to grind. Her client roster was down to Tai Nguyen and whatever might be brewing with Marcos Omar. Jo sent a text message to Tai to confirm he was let out of jail on house arrest, then brought her attention to her computer to draft a § 1538.5 suppression motion on his case.
Hours flew by as Jo researched the latest case law and wrote her brief. After nearly seven hours with only a quick break for lunch, her motion was complete. Tai Nguyen had responded and was out of jail, home on house arrest. It was a good day of focus and productivity for her one case.
Just as Jo shut down her computer for the day, her office line rang. “Law office.”
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