Saving Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Book 5)

by Peter O'Mahoney

  SAVING

  JUSTICE

  PETER O’MAHONEY

  Saving Justice: A Legal Thriller

  Peter O’Mahoney

  Copyright © 2020

  Published by Roam Free Publishing

  1st edition.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  SAVING JUSTICE

  TEX HUNTER SERIES BOOK 5

  PETER O’MAHONEY

  Also by Peter O’Mahoney

  *****

  In the Tex Hunter Series:

  Power and Justice

  Faith and Justice

  Corrupt Justice

  Deadly Justice

  Coming soon:

  Natural Justice: Tex Hunter 6

  *****

  In the Jack Valentine Series:

  Gates of Power

  Stolen Power

  *****

  In the Bill Harvey Legal Thriller Series:

  Redeeming Justice

  Fire and Justice

  Will of Justice

  A Time for Justice

  Truth and Justice

  *****

  Chapter 1

  “I need to do this.” Criminal Attorney Tex Hunter gripped the steering wheel. “Stacey Fulbright is innocent. She has to be. She couldn’t have stabbed a private investigator in a parking lot.”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Assistant Esther Wright stared out the passenger window of the BMW sedan, watching as they weaved in and out of traffic at high speed. The city of Chicago had her heart, but the ever-growing levels of traffic was one of her life’s greatest annoyances. “Defending another lawyer is one thing, but defending an ex-lover is something different altogether. I’ve seen it many times before—you become too personally involved when you know the accused. I can see it happening here. You’re too involved to make the right decisions. You’re going to become obsessive and lose sight of everything else.”

  Hunter eased his foot off the accelerator, moving the car into the slow lane of the Stevenson Expressway. It was busy, four lanes of a snake-like beast hustling down the pale gray road, everyone desperate to arrive at some place at some time for some important reason. Nobody gave way to anybody. It was a fight for space and time, all the cars maneuvering for the extra room. The fast lanes were a continuous pretense of bluster, fast moves, stubbornness, and close calls. As Hunter’s car slowed, the black SUV following them did the same. Two cars back. New and clean. The black SUV had been two cars back, in that exact position, for the past five minutes.

  “Is that what this is about?” Hunter’s voice softened as he looked across at his assistant. “You don’t want me to defend an ex-girlfriend?”

  “I just…” Esther avoided looking at him, keeping her gaze out the window. She brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “You get too personally involved when you know the people in the case. It becomes your life, your world and everything that you do. That’s honorable, and it’s commendable, but I’m not sure it’s good for your health. The more you’re personally involved, the more you drink, and you’re almost forty-five. You’ve got to look after your health.”

  “My health is fine. I’m not having a heart attack any time soon.” Hunter looked in the rear-view mirror as he changed lanes again. The black SUV moved with them. “Is there something more I’m missing?”

  “It’s nothing. I’m just looking out for you.”

  Hunter nodded in response. Now wasn’t the time to engage in an emotional discussion. He needed to focus. “If Stacey wants me to do it, then I’m going to defend her. This is a woman that I’ve known for more than twenty-five years. She had my back when I was younger, and I’ve never forgotten that. She’s been charged with murder, and she’s asked for my help on the bail hearing. She has two young children, Esther. I can’t let the system do to her family what it did to mine.”

  Esther didn’t respond, instead turning her attention to the files on her lap.

  Hunter picked up the pace of the car, weaving through traffic as he let out his emotions on the road. The black SUV followed his pace. Hunter adjusted the rearview mirror. The windows of the SUV were tinted. There were no plates.

  “The deceased is Joe Fielding, a private investigator.” Esther ran her index finger over the page as she read. “Found stabbed in the parking lot outside Stacey Fulbright’s office building at five in the morning. Found by a security guard with some of Stacey’s possessions. Fielding was known to the police and had a close association with criminal gangs that operate in the west of Chicago. Stacey was arrested because her monogrammed gold letter opener was found next to the body and it’s assumed, at this point, that the letter opener is the murder weapon. Fielding was stabbed five times in the neck and bled out.”

  “Wait. Fielding. Joe Fielding…” Hunter tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. He changed lanes again. The SUV followed. It came closer. “Joe Fielding is involved in Dr. Mackie’s case. His name has come up before.”

  “That’s right.” Esther snapped her fingers when she made the connection. “From what we found on that case, Fielding worked for Vandenberg and Wolfe Family Law Offices.”

  “And often in opposition to Stacey Fulbright and her clients.”

  Hunter didn’t signal as he took the ramp off the expressway. The black SUV veered right and shadowed them.

  “I don’t think we should get messed up in the world of family law, Tex. And not just family law—Stacey Fulbright specializes in representing domestic abuse victims through their divorce. That’s her what her whole business model is based on. We’re talking about violent people with violent pasts.”

  “Fear shouldn’t dictate our sense of justice.”

  “Of course not, but you have to do the right thing and let someone else defend Stacey Fulbright. There are many great defense lawyers out there. If Stacey is a good lawyer, like you say, then I’m sure she would even say the same thing. You’re too close to it. And when you’re too close to something, you make bad decisions.”

  “If she wants my help, then I need to help her.” Hunter said as the traffic on the ramp slowed in front of them. “It may have been twenty years since I dated Stacey Fulbright, but she was good to me at a time in my life when many people weren’t. She had my back. It was young love, but it was an important part of my life. And even after we separated, I always promised myself that I would have her back, as a way to repay her. Without her support, I’m not sure where I’d be.” Hunter paused for a long moment. He sighed. “Her son Noah is ten years old. That’s the same age I was when my father went through his murder trial, and I won’t let the system destroy another family like it did mine.”

  “This isn’t your father’s case.” Esther’s voice softened. “This is different. Your father’s case involved the killings of eight teenage girls, and this is the murder of a dodgy private investigator in a parking lot. They’re different cases, and her son is going to see the trial differently than you did. There won’t be the media circus you had to endure.”

  “My father’s defense lawyers were terrible. With all the media pressure, they abandoned the case too easily. Even when I was ten, I knew they weren’t doing their job. I won’t let that happen to Stacey Fulbright and her family.”

  “What about your other cases? Dr. Mackie’s case is due in court in five weeks. We have to prepare for it. We’re not in a winning position in his case ye
t. It’s going to take a lot of work to prepare for the trial.”

  “We have time.” Hunter grunted. “If not, we’ll make time.”

  Hunter stopped at the red light, five minutes from their destination, the Cook County Jail. The SUV moved into the space behind them.

  It didn’t stop.

  The SUV slammed into the back of Hunter’s car. The impact jolted the BMW forward. Esther and Hunter gripped the dashboard. The SUV kept pushing. Tires were screeching. Hunter slammed his foot on the brake and ripped up the parking brake, looking behind him.

  “Tex!” Esther shouted as she turned to Hunter. There was confusion in her eyes. “Tex!”

  Hunter released the parking brake, gripped the steering wheel, threw the car into gear, and lurched forward, into the oncoming traffic. The traffic passing the intersection broke hard, the sounds of horns reverberating through the air. One car smashed into the back of another. A motorbike slid on the road. A truck pulled to the side. Hunter swerved past an oncoming car, and swerved again, before screeching to a stop on the other side of the intersection.

  He bounded out of the car, staring at the SUV on the other side of the road, daring it to come forward. The SUV roared its engine, squealed its tires, but turned right, speeding into the distance.

  As Hunter watched the car race away, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Danger was coming.

  And he expected nothing less.

  Chapter 2

  Death was Tex Hunter’s business. It was where the money was. He didn’t want it to be, but it was the reality he faced as a criminal defense attorney. Murder. Attempted murder. Manslaughter. Faced with those charges, a client looked at their future and saw nothing but a life in prison, and was willing to spend every last cent they had to prevent it from happening, guilty or not. Over his decades as a criminal lawyer, he’d become accustomed to detaching from the cases, forgetting about the sickening photos from the crime scenes, the depraved nature of the offenses, or the formal descriptions of the deceased. He had to. It was the only way to deal with seeing the underworld of Chicago on a daily basis. He could look at a photo of a deceased body and not see a life lost, not see the wounds of death, but instead see the clues that lead to identifying the murderer. He could do that with ease. Except when the case was personal. That’s when he struggled to switch off. That’s when he struggled to forget.

  Hunter barely recognized Stacey Fulbright when he first walked into the meeting room. He’d never seen her look so pale. The once vibrant and passionate brunette look broken and defeated. Her shoulders were slumped forward, her eyes stared at the floor in front of her, and her shoulder length hair was a mess. Even in the twenty-four hours since her arrest, she appeared wrecked.

  The room for pre-bail meetings was tight, unemotional, and heartless. It smelled like lost hope, mixed with the stench of body odor and pine-scented cleaning products. It was a room designed to lack personality, designed to appear sterile, and it was succeeding in every aspect. There were five narrow cubicles for lawyers to meet with clients to discuss the procedure of the bail hearing, and only a thin wooden panel to separate each cubicle. There were two other women in the room, talking to their lawyers about their forthcoming felony charges. Hunter recognized both lawyers, and greeted them.

  Stacey Fulbright waited at the table, staring at the grains in the wood as Hunter sat down. She knew how this worked. She knew the process. But she never thought she would be on the other side of the table.

  “Courtroom 101 of 26th and California Avenue.” Stacey Fulbright said as she stared at her hands, still cuffed. “I never thought I’d be the one who was applying for bail. I never thought I’d be here, Tex. Not on this side of the desk. I should be over on the other side, with the lawyers.”

  “Hello Stacey.” Hunter’s tone was calm. “We’ve got a good judge today. Judge Lyon. He’s a reasonable guy. Should work in our favor, and the ‘D’ Bond is likely to be set at half a million, given Judge Lyon’s history of similar cases. It means you’ll have to put up ten percent of the amount. Can you post it?”

  “I can post it. I can put up the house as collateral, if needed.” She nodded, still staring at the table. “I’ve thought about this already.”

  “Do you need me to explain the procedure? It’s been a while since you were in criminal law.”

  She shook her head, before biting her lip. Their interaction was formal, defaulting to the legal profession protocol they both held so dear. When she looked up at Hunter, he saw a face stained by tears.

  “I need to get out of here, Tex. I have to make bail. My children can’t know I’m in prison. I can’t let them think their mommy is a criminal. I’m not a murderer. I can’t let my children grow up like that. They can’t think I’m a killer. I have to go home.”

  “We’ll work on that.” Hunter rested his elbows on the table. “We’ll present a good case at the bail hearing, and then the prelim, but this is a murder charge. They’ve determined there’s enough evidence to charge you in the first degree, and that means they’ve got something on your intent to kill this man. Even if we’re successful in the bail hearing, because of the charge, they may request you wear an electronic home monitor.”

  “An ankle monitor? I can do that.” She whispered, more to herself than to Hunter. “I just need to get out of here. I need to see my babies.”

  Hunter looked back at the closed door. Esther Wright was waiting outside, still shaken up after the car accident. Hunter reported the incident to the police and his insurance company, and within twenty-five minutes of the collision, his car was towed away. Fifteen minutes later, he was walking through the Cook County Prison entrance preparing for a bail hearing.

  “Thank you for coming, Tex. You’re the first lawyer I thought of when they arrested me.” Stacey muttered. “But this is all just one big mistake. This nightmare will be over soon. I’m sure of it. The cops have made a mistake. That’s all. They made a mistake. It happens.”

  “I will defend you all the way.”

  “I don’t need you to do that. I’ve got someone else in mind, if it gets that far. John C. Clarke owes me a few favors, and his specialty is murder charges. I’ll get him to take it over once I’m out of here. And this will be a simple case, so there’s nothing to worry about. It’ll be thrown out once they investigate the case and find there’s no evidence I did this. This is a simple case of mistaken identity. The cops got the wrong person. It happens. Once they find security footage in the parking lot, I’ll be in the clear. I know I didn’t kill that man. It’ll be over before we know it.”

  “I want to help you, Stacey. I’ve always said that if you needed me, I would be there. I’ve got your back.”

  The statement caught her by surprise. She looked up and smiled. “You’re a good man, Tex. You always do the right thing.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it one tight squeeze before letting go. “The best thing you can do for me right now is to get me out of this prison.”

  “Then let’s start with what we know.” Hunter reached down, picked up his briefcase and placed it on the table. He opened it, and took out the police file. “Joe Fielding was found in the parking lot outside your office by a security guard at 5am yesterday. They’re still working on time of death, but they have evidence that he left his apartment at 10pm the night before, meaning the time of death is between 10pm and 5am. The murder weapon is a gold letter opener with your name engraved on it. You say that you didn’t do it, but the evidence is strong.” Hunter paused for a moment. “Is there anyone that would want to target you?”

  “What do you mean?” She looked confused.

  “As I was driving here, I was involved in a minor collision with a black SUV. It didn’t seem like an accident, because the person targeted my car and then drove off quickly.”

  “I’m… I’m not sure what you’re asking?” She shook her head. “You think the person in the SUV targeted you because you were coming here?”

  “I’m saying we shouldn’t
rule anything out yet.”

  Stacey’s mouth hung open and her face went blank as she tried to process the thought.

  The bailiff opened the door behind Hunter, leaned his head into the room and called the next lot of numbers. Hunter gave Stacey a knowing nod, wished her luck, and then packed up his briefcase. Twenty-five minutes later, he was walking the hallway outside Courtroom 101 of the George N. Leighton criminal courthouse.

  “Tex Hunter. It’s been a while.”

  Hunter turned to see the man behind him. “Michael Vandenberg. What are you doing in the halls of criminal justice? Don’t you belong over in family court?”

  “True.” Vandenberg smiled. “But I had a meeting here. Tell me, are you still defending Dr. Mackie on the sexual assault case?”

  “I am.” Hunter was hesitant. “I’d love to stay and chat but I’m on my way to Bond Court.”

  “I need one minute of your time. That’s all.” Vandenberg was tall, slim, and had graying hair. He was awkward, hard to talk to, and had a reputation for being much too touchy feely with the women around him. He was old school, even for a man in his late fifties. He held himself well, but the years of working as a divorce lawyer were beginning to take a toll on his health. “I need you to convince Dr. Mackie to sell his business to Christoph King. It’d make everyone very happy, and I’m sure I can make the sexual assault charges against Dr. Mackie disappear if the sale was made. Just mention it to him for me.”

  Hunter squinted. “I don’t understand the connection.”

  “You don’t have to. Just make the sale happen.” Vandenberg said. “What do you have in Bond Court?”

  “Murder, but it’s a case of mistaken identity. It’s one of your rivals. Stacey Fulbright.”

  “Ha,” Vandenberg scoffed. “That woman has dedicated her life to ruining my clients in divorce cases. And now she’s here? There’s some justice in that.” Vandenberg stepped back; a smile still plastered across his face. “Just get Dr. Mackie to sign the deal. If he sells the business, I can guarantee his sexual assault charges will disappear.”