Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
He allowed me to recover for the next three songs, and then, snapping into his professional mode, he said, “Let's go. We have work to do.”
TWO STAKEOUTS (& A CRIME SCENE) LATER
WITNESS (N.)
A PERSON WHO TESTIFIES UNDER OATH IN A TRIAL WITH FIRST-HAND OR EXPERT EVIDENCE USEFUL IN A LAWSUIT
ELIZABETH
I’d finally landed a case.
A real deal work in the office, no stalking or questionable crime scenes involved case.
The woman was a single mother who was fighting for the custody of her kids after assaulting a guy who hit her son.
We were on her side, the right side, for a change, and Damien was letting me take the lead.
“So, you have an OnlyFans account?” Damien asked. “Miss Shawn?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I have one of those.”
“And as of now, you make the majority of your income by having sex with dildos?”
Miss Shawn looked over at me for help, but I didn’t know what to say.
“Yes…”
“And you do this in the kitchen which is feet away from your daughter’s room?” he asked.
“I only do it when my kids aren’t at home.”
“The fact that you do it all speaks volumes.”
“What? You’re supposed to be on my side, Mr. Carter.” Her voice cracked. “Why are you treating me like this?”
“Because he’s a soulless ghoul.” I offered.
“I’m treating you exactly how the other side will treat you.” He stepped closer to her, and to my surprise, offered her his handkerchief. “They’re going to paint you as a bad mother and a sex obsessed woman who doesn’t deserve full custody of her kids.”
“How do you know that?”
He didn’t answer.
“Jessica?” He looked over at her. “Order Miss Vaughn some lunch and call Charlie Acosta. Tell him we need him here to help her keep her composure on the stand.”
Then he looked at me. “Miss Tanner, we have a visit to make.”
When we made it into the hallway, I moved in front of him.
“It’s really hard to work with you sometimes,” I said.
“I promise you that feeling is mutual, Miss Tanner.”
“Why would you tear that poor woman down like that?” I asked. “Hasn’t she been through enough?”
“I need to prepare her for trial.”
“You can do that by being respectful and nice.”
“I was being nice. I actually think I was too nice.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” He pressed a finger against my lips. “Marianne Bachmeier shot her daughter’s killer in open court. Everyone had all the sympathy in the world for her until they realized she was a bartender who’d given up two of her other kids for adoption and like most young women, she still like partying on the weekends.”
“If she’d been a saint, she would’ve gotten off scot-free and been heralded as a legend,” he said. “But she wasn’t, so they sentenced her to prison for six years.”
“I—”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” he said. “I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing.”
“With all due respect, I need to take the rest of the day off.”
“No. We have another client to handle.”
“I’m not asking,” I said, stepping back. “I need some time away.”
“From work or from me?”
“Both.”
THIRD PARTY (N.)
A PERSON WHO IS NOT A PARTY TO A CONTRACT OR A TRANSACTION, BUT HAS AN INVOLVEMENT
DAMIEN
Subject: Trial Run Results + Lemonade
I haven't heard complaints from you about your partner lately, and I’ve noticed you’re being far more efficient.
You can thank me for my wisdom at any time.
Andrew Hamilton,
Hamilton & Associates
P.S. My daughter said you haven’t bought anything from her lemonade stand in the lobby today. Feel free to rectify that situation as soon as possible.
Subject: Re: Trial Run Results + Lemonade
I’ve kept all the complaints to myself.
You’re welcome.
Damien Carter,
Hamilton & Associates
P.S. Your daughter is charging a hundred dollars per glass and twenty dollars per brownie.
RACKETEERING (N.)
THE FEDERAL CRIME OF CONSPIRING TO ORGANIZE TO COMMIT CRIMES, PARTICULARLY AS A REGULAR BUSINESS
ELIZABETH
Guilty. More guilty. Beyond guilty.
I sorted our newest clients by their level of guilt instead of trying to find redeeming qualities.
“Would you like something for lunch, Miss Tanner?” an intern asked me one morning.
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure?” She tilted her head to the side. Whenever the Marolto Family comes in, things go pretty long.”
“The who family?” My head shot up.
“The Moraltos.” She placed a menu in front of me. “They just made an emergency appointment. Sandwich or salad?”
I stood up from my chair and headed to the elevator in disbelief. I only knew of one Moralto family, and I refused to believe they would be allowed anywhere near this building. Thanks to Frank trying to impress me one night years ago, I'd witnessed the brutal cage fights they hosted and the utter ruthlessness with which they ruled the streets; there was an entire course at Harvard about all their dealings with organized crime.
The moment I stepped onto the floor, they walked down the hall toward the conference room.