Mob Lawyer 5: A Legal Thriller

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Mob Lawyer 5: A Legal Thriller Page 7

by Dave Daren


  “Sorry,” I said before I gulped down my water. “How's your jetlag?”

  “I’m fine,” Liz said, and I could hear her heels clicking against tile as she walked. “I drank plenty of water and slept almost twenty-four hours. How’s the house?”

  “Fine,” I said. “I called that cleaning company that you found for me. They’re coming out three times a week.”

  “What about a paralegal?” she asked.

  The soft click of a door as it shut came from her end of the line. It was followed by the sound of a coffee grinder and the hiss of boiling water.

  “I have the name of a guy,” I said. “One of the capos has a nephew that just graduated with a degree in criminal justice.”

  “Naturally,” the gorgeous blonde laughed. “How are your cases going? Have they slowed down at all?”

  “They have,” I said. “How are you?”

  “Ugh, I came back to another case and a mound of paperwork,” she said. “But I’m almost caught up now, and I’m going to sleep all weekend while I lounge around in one of the shirts that I stole from you.”

  “That’s where all my clothes went,” I teased.

  The picture of Liz in one of my shirts made my pulse race, and I licked my lips as I thought about her long legs and perky ass.

  “You know that they look better on me,” she said.

  “That is very true,” I said. “But you should send me a picture just to confirm it.”

  Her tinkling laughter came through the phone, and I grinned as I refilled my glass of water.

  “I think that can be arranged,” she purred. “But you didn’t call just to get a picture and chat.”

  “What makes you think that?” I asked as I tried to think of what could’ve given it away.

  “Hunter, I’ve known you long enough to know when there’s something bothering you,” Liz said.

  I shook my head before I downed another glass of water. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her, but I also didn’t want her to be caught off-guard if any of Galic’s men decided to jump the Atlantic and pay her a visit. They’d already threatened her while she was in the city, and she didn’t have the same protection in London.

  “Some guys followed me,” I told her.

  “Oh, my God, Hunter!” she gasped. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hank chased them off, but I wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

  I decided to leave out the part about them pulling a gun on the Italian bodyguard. I didn’t want her to worry more than she already would, and I didn’t want her to ask too many questions that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

  “Of course,” my sometimes co-counsel said. “They don’t have any reason to bother me when I’m all the way in London.”

  “Good,” I said. “If you see anyone, Anthony said that he can have someone out in less than twelve hours. He also wanted me to remind you that you’re welcome at the vineyard anytime.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Liz said. “Are you sure that you’re okay, though?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “They’re gone.”

  A yawn forced my mouth open so far that it cracked.

  “Did you sleep last night?” my beautiful part-time girlfriend asked.

  “I caught an hour on the couch,” I hedged. “And my morning hearing was pushed back until this afternoon.”

  “Well, then, go get some sleep,” she chided me with a laugh. “You can talk to me later.”

  “I will,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Now go rest. There’s coffee in the cabinet when you wake up. I found a new brand over here that I’m absolutely in love with. I’ll send you a pound of it.”

  Another yawn interrupted my answer, and my eyes watered so bad that tears rolled down my cheeks.

  “That sounds amazing,” I said.

  “I’m hanging up now,” the beautiful woman said.

  I looked around blearily at the morning light that poured in through the glass doors before I trudged to the other side of the house. I needed to order some blackout curtains for my bedroom, I decided, but at least the windows faced the street and not the backyard. I wouldn’t have to deal with the direct sunlight until after I was already out and about.

  The sheets of my bed were soft, cool, and very inviting when I climbed into bed, and I had barely laid my head on the pillow before sleep dragged me under. I tossed and turned for hours, but only managed to stay under for about half an hour before I woke up in a cold sweat.

  Every little creak and pop made me think that there was someone in the house, and I would have sworn that the entire building was suddenly filled with sounds that hadn’t been there before. Every time I’d start to drift off again, I’d hear something unfamiliar, and I’d jerk awake. Finally, I gave up and took a cold shower, where I had to listen to the pipes gurgle as I tried to wake up. When I was reasonably functional, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, mixed in a ton of cream and sugar, and then sipped on it as I strolled into my office.

  I still had some paperwork to finish up before court, and it was only a little after noon. I sat at the mahogany desk that I’d ordered, sipped my coffee, and booted up my computer. I double-checked my email to make sure that the hearing hadn’t been moved again, but there was nothing new, so I sent a text to my client to make sure that he’d seen my earlier message.

  He responded after only a few minutes and told me that he’d be there. He was a middle-aged associate of the Febbo family that had worked for them for years. His exact job position was a mystery that I had no interest in solving, but I’d gleaned enough information to know that he was probably a bookkeeper at the bar he worked at.

  Once I’d finished all of the paperwork I sat back in my chair and looked around my office. I needed to call Jovanni’s nephew, but that could wait for a little while. I did need to straighten up just in case I hired the guy. I had boxes and files everywhere, and other than my own desk, there was nowhere a paralegal could sit.

  The small gray couch that I’d bought for guests sat opposite of my desk with a short coffee table that was covered in casework. The short filing cabinets on either side of the couch held a few more of the manila folders, but there were a lot of them on my desk that I could put away.

  I brewed myself another cup of coffee, grabbed a glass of water so I wouldn’t be dehydrated, and then got to work. I had the office organized after another half hour of work, but that still left an hour before I needed to be in court.

  The boxes of leftovers in the fridge had been there long enough that I needed to throw them out, and all of the groceries that I’d bought before Liz left had already been eaten. There were a few granola bars, but I needed something a bit more filling if I wanted to survive the day.

  I glanced at my watch, and decided I could throw on my suit and head into the city. I could grab some food at one of the diners near the courthouse, and that way, I wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up the kitchen before I left. I hadn’t had a BLT in a long time, and there was a hole-in-the-wall place just around the corner from the courthouse that had one of the best sandwiches that I’d ever had. They even made their own potato chips from scratch every morning.

  The thought of biting into a BLT on rye with extra bacon had me headed toward the bedroom. I washed up, picked out a dark gray suit with a navy tie, and then putted around as I gathered my laptop and the paperwork that I needed for court. I locked up the files from the Gryffon laptop, stuck the key in my pocket, and then locked the door to the office as well.

  I shot a text to Hank as I grabbed my keys since I hadn’t seen the bodyguard’s Chrysler 300 when I peeked out of the front window earlier, but I knew that he’d be around eventually.

  Be there in ten minutes.

  I nodded at the message as if he could see me, stuffed my phone in my pocket, and then grabbed a granola bar. I could wait a few more minutes, especially since I had no idea if Galic’s men w
ere on the lookout for me, and I didn’t want to be caught without the beefy bodyguard there to chase them off.

  “At least they didn’t find out where I live,” I muttered as I headed into the living room.

  I’d just sat down when someone started to bang on the door.

  Chapter 5

  My heart leapt into my throat as whoever was at the door banged again. The thick wood creaked under the pressure, and I half-expected it to come snap off the hinges. I slowly rose from the couch while I picked up my phone to dial Hank.

  “What’s wrong?” the bodyguard asked.

  “There’s somebody at the door,” I said.

  I crept closer to the front of the house, careful not to stand right behind the door in case they opened fire. I could barely make out two figures through the oval frosted glass set into the middle of the door as I peered around the corner, but squint as I might, I couldn’t recognize either man.

  “I’m five minutes away,” the well-armed man said.

  His engine roared into the phone before the line went dead, and I hoped that he wouldn’t be pulled over by the cops. I forced myself to breathe in and out as I retraced my steps into the living room where my sidearm sat next to my briefcase. I slid it out of the holster and then cautiously snuck back toward my front door.

  “We know you’re in there,” Agent Monroe’s voice called.

  I let out a heavy sigh, redialed Hank, and then closed my eyes as I calmed my racing pulse. I went back into the living room to put away my gun, and then returned to the front door as my bodyguard picked up.

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “It’s just the damned feds.”

  “Good,” Hank said. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t let them in the house.”

  “I have no intention of it,” I replied. “See you in a few.”

  “Open the door,” the young federal agent snarled as his fist slammed into the door again.

  “Monroe,” Agent Hisashi’s sage tone said. “Calm down, or you’ll be paying for that door.”

  “He’s in there!” Monroe huffed. “He’s just ignoring us.”

  “I don’t actually have to answer the door,” I said as I swung the door open with a smirk. “Unless you have a warrant.”

  “We don’t,” the older agent said.

  His wide frame took up most of the doorframe, but he stepped back as I walked out of the front door. He narrowed his slanted eyes before he broke into an easy grin.

  “Then I think we’ll have a chat out here,” I said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us you’d moved?” the younger agent snapped.

  His frown was so deep that his dimples made an appearance, and his chocolate-brown eyes were filled with rage. His black suit was perfectly pressed, and his black dress shoes had been shined so much that they reflected the full power of the sunlight that fell on them.

  “I didn’t realize that the Federal Bureau of Investigation needed to know my address,” I said.

  “Don’t be a smartass,” Monroe huffed. “You know damn well that we need to know where you are. Unless you were just trying to avoid getting arrested?”

  “Arrested?” I asked with a lifted eyebrow. “Didn’t you follow my tip?”

  I knew that they had because the dealer that I’d told them about was Galic’s son, and his arrest was the reason that the Serbian mobster had left his house. If he hadn’t gotten the call, then we wouldn’t have been able to grab his laptop.

  “We did,” Hisashi answered. “But we weren’t able to find the manufacturer.”

  “And you’re lucky that we were able to get something out of that lousy info, or you’d be under arrest right now,” the younger agent said.

  I rolled my eyes at the haughty young man. He was fresh out of Quantico and still thought that everyone should bow down to his shiny badge. He would learn soon enough, and I didn’t mind being the one to set him in his place.

  Hank’s car eased down the street at what I suspected was the exact speed limit. The black Chrysler 300 pulled into my driveway and parked right next to the feds’ Crown Vic. The engine purred for a few seconds before it shut off, and the door swung open to reveal my beefy bodyguard.

  “Hank,” I called with a wave. “How was the drive?”

  “Good,” the large man replied. “Are you almost ready to go to court?”

  “I am,” I said as I shifted my attention back to the two agents that stood on my doorstep. “Are we done here?’

  “You called your bodyguard?” Monroe sneered. “What do you think he’s going to do for you against federal agents?”

  “I think he was expecting someone else,” Hisashi said.

  His sharp eyes looked me up and down before he turned to look at Hank. He was smart enough that he could probably guess who I was worried about, or at the very least he would know that I had enemies. He already knew about the cop that had jumped me last year, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought that was the reason I’d moved without sending anyone my new address.

  “You never know what you’re getting into when you move,” I hedged. “I saw a special on a serial killer that lived in a nice suburban neighborhood just like this.”

  “You’re more likely to be jumped by your clients,” the younger agent snorted.

  “My clients have been proven innocent over and over again,” I said as I pulled my shoulders back and held my head high.

  “You work for mobsters,” Monroe huffed.

  “What do you want?” I asked before I lost my patience with the arrogant young man. “I helped you out. I think we’re done here.”

  “We know you’re still hiding something,” the irritating agent said with a cocky smile. “And we’ll keep coming back until you tell us what we want to know.”

  “I only know what I read in the papers,” I said with a shrug. “I was lucky with that tip, but I’m sure you have more resources than I do.”

  Hisashi looked between Hank and I as if he was debating whether he wanted to press me for more information. He sighed, ran a hand over his bald head, and then looked at his partner.

  “We should go,” the seasoned agent said. “Thank you for your help, Hunter. If you think of anything else, you have my card.”

  “I do,” I said with a nod.

  “Wait a second,” Monroe said as the older man started back toward their Crown Vic. “He knows something! You know that, and so do I. We can’t just let him withhold something that can break our case wide open.”

  “He has my number if he changes his mind,” the bald man said with a shrug.

  The younger man opened his mouth as if to continue arguing, but the senior agent pinned him with a stare that made him huff and get into the car. He looked like a mix between a kicked puppy and an angry teenager as he buckled his seat belt and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything you can use,” I told Hisashi.

  I watched as he climbed into his old beater, cranked the engine, and then pulled out of my driveway. I still wanted to share the information we’d found on Galic’s laptop, but that would have to wait until Anthony was ready to give them a copy of the hard drive.

  “That little shit is lucky he hasn’t been shot,” Hank said after the Crown Vic turned and headed toward the LIE.

  “I’m sure it’ll happen at some point,” I said. “But I won’t be the one to do it.”

  “Hopefully he’ll do something that will give me a reason to,” the large man said with a smirk.

  “I would prefer that to be the first and last time they darken my door,” I said.

  I wondered how they’d discovered my new address. I hadn’t changed it officially since I had thirty days, and the longer I could keep the cops from knowing where I lived, the better. I wanted to have the corrupt city officials and Serbians exposed before I needed to submit the change, and the information on Galic’s laptop brought us one step closer.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Hank asked as a chang
e of subject.

  The large man lifted an eyebrow as he looked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

  “I managed a few hours,” I said. “But it’s going to be a long day. Speaking of which, it’s about time to head into the city. I may need to swing through the drive-thru. I definitely don’t have time to go to the diner anymore.”

  “Where’s the court case today?” the Italian man asked.

  “Queens,” I said.

  “Ordman,” the beefy man sighed as he followed me into the house.

  “He sent his ADA yesterday,” I said. “I think he may be trying to distance himself from the cases. It might be the smartest thing he’s ever done. Do you want a cup of coffee for the road?”

  I strolled over to the sectional to grab my briefcase, holster, and keys from the coffee table. I took a huge bite out of the granola bar that I’d left when I answered the door, folded the wrapper over, and then stuffed the rest of it in my pocket for later.

  “No,” Hank replied. “I had a cup earlier.”

  I nodded, held in a yawn, and then double-checked the glass doors to my backyard to make sure that they were locked.

  “I need to get an alarm system,” I muttered to myself. “Any suggestions?”

  “I can find out what they use at the main house,” my bodyguard said as we walked outside.

  “I don’t think men with machine guns are approved by the HOA,” I chuckled as I locked the door behind us.

  “Damn,” the mobster laughed. “And I was hoping that I’d finally be able to upgrade from my side piece.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “Are you going to follow me into the city?”

  “Yeah,” he said as he became stern again. “I’ll be outside of the courthouse at the coffee shop.”

  “I’ll have my phone with me, but I doubt anyone will try to do anything while I’m inside,” I said. “And it’s not like they can bring a gun into the courthouse.”

  “No, but a shank can be plastic,” the bodyguard said with a shrug. “One of the best shanks is a plastic knife. You can sharpen it to a point, and when you stab it into someone you twist and the pieces will shatter inside the target.”

 

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