And what happened to them? Did it all work out? Did the client get what she needed, wanted, or deserved? Was anyone but the lawyer the wiser? And could such a thing ever truly work out as long as the lawyer had a conscience?
She knew one thing for certain. Bonnie would kill Dwayne Reed to protect her. It was time to find out what she would do to save Bonnie.
Chapter Nineteen
Every case had problems. Alex knew that. If the facts were bad, she focused on the law. If the law was unfavorable, she focused on the facts. If both were against her, she’d make the best deal she could. That was life in the criminal justice system. Sometimes justice was blind and other times it was a sausage grinder churning out imperfect solutions to impossible problems.
But she’d never had a case with a problem like this. There was no point in going to the law library to research similar cases. There wouldn’t be any. She couldn’t ask her boss, Robin Norris, for advice because Robin would pull her off Dwayne’s case in a heartbeat and she’d lose whatever leverage she had to influence the outcome. And she couldn’t have a come-to-Jesus meeting with her client to convince him to do the right thing because that wasn’t in Dwayne’s DNA.
She needed someone to talk to, someone who’d rummage around in the dark corners of her problem and dig out a solution. There was one person she thought she could ask for help: Judge West.
Though he hadn’t come right out and urged her to cross the line in her defense of hard-core criminals, he’d implied as much. If she was right about his intent, he might show her a way out of the wilderness. If she was wrong, she’d be more lost than she already was, if that was possible.
Judge West was on the bench when she walked into his courtroom. Two lawyers were arguing a motion over admissibility of evidence in an upcoming trial. He was leaning back in his chair, eyes half closed, as the lawyers droned on. She approached the rail separating the judge and lawyers from the pews, not taking a seat, waiting for him to notice her. When he did, he sat up, interrupting the lawyer who was talking.
“Thank you, Counsel. I’ll take the matter under advisement.”
“But, Your Honor,” the lawyer said. “I haven’t finished my argument.”
“That is where you and I differ, Counsel. We’re adjourned.”
He banged his gavel, rose, and looked at Alex, cocking his head toward the door to his chambers. Alex nodded, passing the lawyers without making eye contact as they packed their briefcases.
Seated behind his desk, Judge West opened a drawer, retrieving his bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.
“No, thanks, Judge. Too early in the day for me,” Alex said, standing behind one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“The way you came in my courtroom looking like Little Girl Lost, I figured a drink was exactly what you needed. Especially after what happened over the weekend. I have to say when I saw the news that I wasn’t surprised. Then again, I’m guessing you weren’t either. Must have been tough walking in on those bodies.”
“Very tough, Your Honor. Beyond tough, in fact.”
He studied her for a moment as she gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white, her face flushed and her belly churning, pretending that it was the most natural thing in the world to be standing in his chambers deciding whether to take the first step down a path from which she’d never be able to turn back.
“Yes, I see that. Well, if you won’t have a drink, at least have a seat and tell me why you’re here.”
Alex nodded, loosened her grip, and eased into the chair. She looked at her hands like she didn’t recognize them and had no idea what to do with them, at last dropping them in her lap. She had the same uncertainty about what to do next, knowing that whatever she said could not be unsaid and that whatever she did would be forever done.
She considered how she had arrived at this moment, comparing herself to her clients. There was no mystery in how they found their way into trouble. Most of them saw crime as a logical, inescapable career choice. Being born was their first step.
She thought about those who were born into better circumstances, growing up privileged and powerful, having it all, only to fall from grace. What, she wondered, had the moment been like when they took their first step toward ruin? Did they recognize it for what it was? What rationalization clouded their vision, or did they rationalize at all, instead leaping into the abyss buoyed by certain invulnerability or encouraged by a conviction of entitlement? Or were they driven by a suspicion that they were unworthy of their station in life, secretly hoping to be caught?
Perhaps she had stepped onto this path that first day of law school when she and Tommy Bradshaw had fought over the meaning of justice. Or maybe her descent began the moment she realized she couldn’t live without Bonnie.
There was no way to know for certain, and it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the next words out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and looked Judge West square in the eye.
“I need your advice. Off the record.”
He poured himself a drink, sipped, and cradled the glass in both hands.
“If I can help you, I will. Off the record.”
“And if you can’t?”
“Then this conversation never happened.”
She took another breath, wringing her hands.
“Thank you.”
She hesitated, turning her head from side to side, glancing around his chambers.
“It’s just you and me, Alex. I promise you. No hidden cameras or microphones.”
“I know. I know. It’s just that this is so hard.”
“Always is. Supposed to get easier, but I’m not so sure.”
She furrowed her brow. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
He took another sip. “I believe we are. We’re talking about your client, Mr. Reed, and what you’re going to do about him. Isn’t that so?”
She took another deep breath, this one filled with relief at not having to broach the subject. “How did you know?”
“You’re passionate about what you do. You’ve got to be when you represent the worst of the worst. But when that passion collides head-on with the harsh reality of a bad actor like Dwayne Reed, well, young lady, that is the worst kind of train wreck. You can’t help but question what the hell you’re doing.”
She swallowed hard. “That’s an understatement.”
“Tommy Bradshaw must have been fit to be tied when Judge Upton released Dwayne on his own recognizance.”
“How did you know about that?”
“There are some things I take a personal interest in. Your client is one of them. When something happens, people let me know. That’s one of the perks of having been around here as long as I have. Bradshaw should’ve known better than to go after Upton with that ridiculous residency complaint just because one of his moneymen got his feelings hurt. And now your client is back on the street and you’re worried about what he’s going to do next.”
“More like scared to death.”
“Did he kill the Hendersons and Kyrie Chapman?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re afraid he did.”
“Off the record, yes.”
“And you don’t want him to kill anyone else while he’s waiting for you to cut him a deal on the possession charge.”
Alex nodded, her voice falling an octave. “Yes. I’d rather he didn’t.”
Judge West shrugged. “Dwayne strikes me as the kind who kills when he thinks he’s got a reason, though he probably gets a sick kick out of it too. And if he killed those people, I can see how he would have thought he had a reason. You think he’s got a reason to kill someone else?”