“Mrs. Grimm, please come in,” the man said, helping the family into the leather chairs in front of a huge oak desk. The pig-snouted creature scouted the room, peeking into a potted plant and beneath a leather sofa, before it crossed its arms and stationed itself by the door.
“I apologize for the commotion when you came in,” Robin said. “You can take the men out of the forest but you can’t take the forest out of the men. Allow me to introduce my associate, Little John.”
“Happy to meet you,” the man roared. Sabrina reached out to shake his hand but he swatted her on the back in what he must have thought was a friendly pat. It nearly knocked Sabrina out of her chair.
“Mr. Hood, these are my granddaughters, Sabrina and Daphne.”
“Please call me Robin,” he said as he bent over and kissed each girl on the hand. Sabrina nearly fainted. He was so handsome and kind. Her hands got sweaty and her heart started to race. She realized she was staring at him, and worse, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about the famous sisters Grimm,” he continued, patting Sabrina on the head like she was a beagle, then turning to shake Granny’s hand. “How can I help you, Mrs. Grimm?”
“Robin, I need a lawyer,” Granny Relda said.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. My staff and I are all first-rate lawyers, though admittedly we got our degrees online. I hope that won’t be a problem. Ferryport Landing doesn’t have a law school, or a college, or even a high school, really.” Robin took a seat and put his feet up on the desk, revealing the leather boots he wore instead of loafers. “So, were you injured on the job? A victim of malpractice? Bought some toys with too much lead paint?”
“Actually, I have a friend who has been arrested,” Granny said.
Robin and Little John shared a worried look. “The Wolf,” Robin said unsteadily as he sat up straight in his chair.
“We prefer to call him Mr. Canis,” the old woman replied. “He was arrested a month ago and there are still no charges filed against him. The sheriff is also preventing us from visiting him.”
Little John stepped forward. “That’s unfortunate, Mrs. Grimm, but I’m not sure we can help. We’re not criminal defense lawyers.”
“He’s right. We’re litigators,” Robin added. “We sue companies that spill chemicals into rivers or make products that break, and we help people get settlements when they slip on the sidewalk. We’ve never argued a case in criminal court.”
“You must have some training,” Granny said. “The only two criminal defense lawyers who lived in Ferryport Landing were human, and as you know the mayor has run most of us out of town. We’re desperate.”
Robin Hood got up from his desk and gazed out the window at the river. Little John joined him and the two men talked in low voices for several moments. They seemed to be having an argument, but eventually the men nodded and shook hands. When they were finished, Robin and Little John turned back to the family.
“It would be impossible to reason with Nottingham,” Robin said. “He hates me even more than he hates you and your family.”
“Hiring us will make your problems a million times worse,” Little John replied.
Sabrina looked over at her grandmother. The old woman’s hopeful expression began to fade.
“Plus, if I help you, Mayor Heart will shut this office down by sunset,” Robin said.
Granny sighed with defeat and stood up. Sabrina and Daphne did the same. “I understand. We won’t waste any more of your time.”
Suddenly, Robin Hood leaped in front of them. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t do it!”
“You’ll take the case?” the old woman cried.
“We wouldn’t pass this up for the world,” Little John bellowed.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been a thorn in Nottingham’s side,” Robin added with relish.
“I’ll get Friar Tuck started on the paperwork,” said Little John.
“Good thinking, my large friend.” Robin turned to the family.
“As for us, we have an appointment with my favorite sheriff!”
Fifteen minutes later, Sabrina, Daphne, Granny Relda, Robin Hood, and Little John were pushing open the doors of the police station. The ugly little bodyguard, who Sabrina had learned was a miniature orc named Barto, followed behind, darting into alleyways, blocking traffic, and rushing about, fully prepared to leap into combat to protect the group. Sabrina found him painfully annoying but Granny refused to send him home.
The police station was a mess. Boxes of files were scattered about. Many had been tipped over, rummaged through, and abandoned. There were big maps of the town on the walls, some covered in scribbled writing, and the front desk was stained with coffee-cup rings and cigarette burns.
Robin approached the counter and rang a tarnished brass bell. The chime was answered by an enraged growl from a back room.
“WHAT NOW?” a voice shouted.
“There he is,” Robin said as his face broke into a mischievous smile.
“As pleasant as ever,” Little John added.
A door flew open, rattling the full-length mirror on the wall behind it. Nottingham barreled into the room like an angry bull. When he spotted the Grimms he snarled, but when he saw Robin and Little John, he reared back on his heels in shock. He examined the group the way a hyena eyes its prey. Sabrina had seen this expression before. He’d had it the night he tried to kill Daphne. It made the purple scar that started at the tip of Nottingham’s eye and ended at the corner of his mouth seem to pulsate.
“You!” Nottingham roared as he pointed an angry finger at the lawyers.
“Us,” Robin replied. It was obvious to Sabrina that the sheriff and Robin Hood had shared a long, bumpy history and that their friend in the green suit had gotten the better of it. She made a mental note to read up on Robin Hood’s adventures when she got a chance.
“Interesting outfit you’ve got there, Nottingham,” Robin continued.
The sheriff was wearing leather pants, and boots that reached his knees. His shirt was black and billowy, with silver buttons carved in the shape of human skulls. He had a long, swishy cape tied at his neck and a sheathed dagger strapped to his waist.
“Is this what they mean when they call something old school?” Little John continued. “You do realize this isn’t the fifteenth century?”
“There’s nothing old-fashioned about this,” Nottingham said, brandishing his dagger.
“Oh, Nottingham, you do enjoy the drama,” Robin said. “We didn’t come here to fight you. We came to see our client.”
“Client? What client?”
“Mr. Canis.”
Suddenly, Sheriff Nottingham’s rage disappeared and he roared with laughter. “So the mongrel has a lawyer now? Hilarious!”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” Robin said. “I find what is passing as the rule of law in this town just as funny. You arrested Canis four weeks ago and have yet to charge him with a crime. If you aren’t going to charge him you must set him free—that’s the law in Ferryport Landing.”
“I AM THE LAW!” Nottingham shouted. “I’ll do what I want with that monster. He’s a murderer and he’ll hang if I have anything to say about it.”
“I remember a time when you used to say the same thing about me,” Robin replied. “As for Canis—a murderer? Who was the victim?”
Nottingham chuckled. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the story? It goes a little something like this: A child wearing a red hood journeyed to visit her poor, sick grandmother. A monster came along and ate the grandmother. No one lived happily ever after.”
“That happened six hundred years ago!” Granny exclaimed.
“Justice has no time limit,” the sheriff replied.
“Well, if justice is what you’re after, then there must be a trial. I need to meet with Canis and prepare his defense,” Robin said.
“Dear me, perhaps I am ill. I hear you speak but your words are nonsense. You don’t give a rabid dog a trial—you put him to sleep before he can hurt anyone else.”