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Nightmare in Night Court

by N.M. Silber

When lusty lawyers meet creepy criminals

Copyright © 2014/N.M. Silber

Proofed by Proofing Style, Inc./Marla Esposito

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

I dedicate this story to Shaggy, Scooby, Freddie, Daphne, and especially Velma, because it’s hard to be the brainy chick (even though that orange turtleneck was just awful). Thanks for the memories. I forgive you for the Scrappy years.

NOTICE: This is an adult contemporary romance novel and contains EXPLICIT descriptions of sexual acts and mature language. It is intended for readers over the age of eighteen.

Chapter One

“So, how’s it going, honey?” my best friend, Jess, asked as soon as I answered my cell phone. I watched as a sheriff escorted a six-foot-five leprechaun away in handcuffs.

“How’s it going? I’m in Night Court in Philly. That’s a nightmare under the best of circumstances. Throw in the fact that it’s Halloween and there’s a full moon tonight, and you have the makings of a bad horror movie. Part sixteen.”

“At least your hottie hubby is there with you, and you two only have one case.”

“Correction, we only had one case. Judge Epstein appointed us to several other cases, because the place is hopping, and she didn’t want us to feel left out. By the way, that one case we were here for, do you remember the charge?”

“Disorderly Conduct? What about him?”

“He admitted to being in the U.S. without a visa.”

“Oh no, an illegal alien …”

“He’s originally from the planet Nebulon Six.”

“Is that anywhere near Tijuana?”

“One galaxy over.”

“What are the other cases like?”

“Would you rather hear about the guy whose file says he died in 1905, or the guy who I think might be a vampire?”

“They’re two different people? Is anyone on your caseload human?”

“Mr. Harris, the shoplifter is back. This time they caught him with three bags of candy corn, a gallon of spiced cider and about 500 miniature Snickers bars in his pants.”

“Well, it is Halloween, honey.” She sighed. “I suppose this means you and Braden won’t be joining the party anytime soon. I’ll send someone else out for ice.”

“Probably a good idea.” I looked up at that moment and saw my tall blonde husband stalking across the courtroom to question a witness, and it made me shiver in a good way. “You know, I have to admit, that even though this is like punishment for doing something bad in a former life, seeing Braden being commanding in a courtroom again, makes it much more bearable.”

“Uh oh, there will be no sexy deliberations in the jury room for old time’s sake. The quicker you get out of there, the quicker you can find a more private place to examine his briefs. Besides, nobody wants to make an ice run.”

“I’m overwhelmed by your sympathy.”

“Have fun! Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Harris for me, and thank him for helping me to stick to my diet.”

“Later.” I clicked my phone off and took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. Before my husband and I had founded our own legal non-profit, I'd been a public defender here in the City of Brotherly Love, so this wasn’t my first time at the rodeo. Nevertheless, tonight was already shaping up to be a whole new level of crazy.

“Mrs. Pierce,” Judge Debra Epstein, originally of Bayonne, New Jersey, shouted across the courtroom, “what’s going awn with Mowrk from Owrk?” She was such a delicate snowflake.

“Mr. Smith went to get a drink of water. He isn’t feeling well, Your Honor,” I explained.

“Well, go get him and tell him it’s time to take him to your leader, counselor!”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I replied as my husband caught my eye and gave me an amused, but sympathetic, look. Even amused sympathy looked sexy on Braden. I headed for the hall, but before I exited the courtroom, Mr. Smith, my interstellar client, returned.

“I need to get out of here,” he said with a desperate look.

“We all do, Mr. Smith.”

“No! You don’t understand! This atmosphere is toxic.”

“I do understand. I had to work this courtroom for a whole month once.”

“Counselor!” Judge Epstein bellowed, in case I'd forgotten.

“Coming Your Honor!” I bellowed back. I was from New York. I could bellow. “We are not helping your case by keeping her waiting. Let’s go.” I turned and headed to the bench with E.T. right behind me.

“Mr. Brenner, what are the charges?” Judge Epstein glared at the handsome dark-haired, young prosecutor standing next to me. She was an equal opportunity Gorgon.

“Disorderly Conduct, Your Honor. However, since the defendant confessed to being in this country illegally, we were obligated to inform the INS. We’re still waiting for an agent to arrive.” He sighed and shifted his weight to the other foot. Poor Mr. Brenner. He had obviously pissed off somebody in his office. Assigning a young guy, barely out of law school, to Night Court on Halloween had to be a malicious act.

“Ha! You’re waiting for a federal employee to show up in Night Court on Halloween! That’s rich. I hope you brought a snack. Call the next case!”

“Judge!” Mr. Smith broke in. “The gravity …”

“I’m glad you realize this is serious. Now go sit down and contemplate.” She banged her gavel and gave him a gaze that would have withered a lesser alien.

“You don’t understand,” he tried again undaunted, clearly unfamiliar with Judge Epstein’s species. “The level of gravity where I come from is significantly lower. If I don’t get out of here, I may implode.”

“Yeah, you and me both, honey. Mr. Brenner, I don’t have all night! Move it along!” She banged her gavel again for good measure, narrowly missing the fingers of her clerk who was placing a file in front of her. I noticed that he had a nervous twitch, and I wondered whether or not that would be covered under Workmen’s Compensation.

“I’m warning you,” Mr. Smith said, giving me an earnest look, “if I don’t get back to the Mother Ship soon, it will be very ugly.”

“Look, Mr. Smith. I’m doing the best I can here, but the federal government is not noted for the speed of its response even during normal business hours. I wouldn’t exactly expect them to race down here at,” I glanced at my watch, “eleven-thirty PM on Halloween night because some guy from Nebulon Six doesn’t have the proper visa.”