My Lawyer

by JC Kane

  In addition to the high-tech security system, Bruce always had at least one member of his security detail working at the Firehouse 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and usually more, depending on what was happening on any given day.

  A vehicle pulled into the parking lot and Bruce got an alert on his mobile phone. A young teenage girl stepped out of the car and walked towards one of the open garage doors. She was dressed in a conservative business outfit as if she just came from the office. Two of Bruce’s security team members walked out to meet her in the parking lot. They knew exactly who she was because she came to the Kennedy Firehouse two times per week. The security guys wanted to make sure the boss knew they were doing their job properly, so they escorted her into the motorcycle shop where Bruce was waiting.

  “Hey Stacey,” Bruce said. “How’s school?”

  Stacey rolled her eyes. “I have a major paper due at the end of this week and I haven’t even started studying for it.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Bruce walked up the stairs to the upper level of the Firehouse. Officially, his law office occupied the entire second level. Unofficially, Bruce had no clients and wasn’t practicing law. Stacey followed him up the stairs. There was a large steel door at the top. They could hear the lock pop open when Bruce was close enough to the door. It was triggered by the proximity of his smartphone, just like a key fob to a car. Bruce held the door open and let Stacey walk ahead of him. He closed the door behind him and they stepped into the small waiting room with white walls and eight fancy wool chairs. It was a waiting room, but it was also a holding cell. No one could get in or out of that room if Bruce didn’t want them to. The door to his office suite was around a tight corner designed to make it very difficult for law enforcement officers to use any ram or pry bars to breach the steel, reinforced door.

  Bruce and Stacey walked into his office suite. It was a huge, wide open space with a glass conference room towards the back, and his desk at the other end near the massive arched bulletproof windows at the front of the Firehouse.

  He pushed a button on his smartphone and the top of his desk popped open revealing a hidden compartment. He took out six leather pouches and placed them on his desk. First Republic, Chase, US Bank, Bank of the West, Wells Fargo, and Bank of America.

  Stacey took the leather pouches and stuffed them into her bag. She knew the routine. Make the rounds and deposit the cash into the various business accounts.

  Drug dealers had two logistical problems - drugs and cash. Obviously, drugs were a problem because they were illegal, but cash, obtained by illegal means, was also a major problem. Bruce and Lee had cash hidden in stash houses across the valley, in the city, and wherever they could hide it. It was a challenge to keep track of it, move it, spend it, and launder it.

  Bruce was responsible for laundering the cash, but they could only launder so much money without drawing unwanted attention. He could only launder a fraction of the cash they brought in. The Internal Revenue Service had a rule that required every business to report cash transactions over $10,000.00. In fact, the Government even went so far as to allow confiscation of cash if someone was depositing less than $10,000 in cash in order to avoid the mandatory cash reporting requirement. They called it structuring and it was illegal under the federal Bank Secrecy Act. Anything suspicious and the IRS wouldn’t hesitate to take the money and place the burden on the person accused to prove that they didn’t structure the deposits to avoid the reporting requirement. The strict laws made it hard to establish checking accounts, get credit cards, buy houses, lease buildings, and all kinds of problems when you want to buy or invest in expensive things with dirty money.

  There was a beep on Bruce’s phone. He looked out the front window to see who had arrived. He saw Lee’s gray and yellow Lamborghini Centenario. Lee revved the engine just to make sure Bruce knew he had arrived. Bruce closed the top of his desk and looked at Stacey. “Let me know if you have any problems, okay?”

  “Yep.” Stacey walked downstairs with Bruce.

  By the time Bruce and Stacey got downstairs, Lee and Jesus were already teasing Bruce’s security guys. Lee saw Bruce and walked towards him to give him a hug.

  “How you doing, man?” Bruce said.

  Bruce and Lee hugged. A white van pulled into the parking lot. Bruce’s security team got a bit anxious. It was never a good sign to see an unexpected cargo van pull into the parking lot. You never knew what, or who, was inside. Could be police. Could be rival dealers. Could be armed robbers.

  Lee noticed their apprehension and he put his hands in the air. “Relax. The van is with us.” He looked at Bruce. “Happy birthday, brother.” Lee gave him another hug as Jesus signaled the driver of the van to back up to one of the open garage doors.

  “Thanks,” Bruce said. “But, my birthday is two months away.”

  “So, I’m a little early,” Lee waved Bruce over towards the van as they opened the back doors and pulled out the metal loading ramp. “Check this out.”

  The driver and one of Bruce’s bodyguards wheeled the motorcycle down the ramp into the garage.

  Lee pointed to a well-lit area of the garage. “Bring it over here.” He looked over at Bruce, “what do you think?”

  “Dude, that’s a Flying Merkel,” Bruce said. “Are you kidding me? What year is it?”

  Lee shook his head. “I have no idea. I just know it’s really old and dirty and that’s how you like them.”

  Bruce sat on the bike even though the seat was shredded. “This must’ve been expensive. Flying Merkel’s are really hard to find. Where’d you get it?”

  “Right here in San Jose.”

  Bruce looked at Lee. He knew him too well. “Do you have the title?”

  Lee looked confused. “You don’t need a title for this old piece of shit. I don’t think they even had titles back then.” Lee snapped his fingers to get Jesus’s attention. “Jesus, why don’t you check on that.”

  Jesus shook his head. “I can’t make any promises.”

  “This is stolen, isn’t it?” Bruce asked.

  “Look, man,” Lee said. “Just enjoy it. I have to get moving, but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Lee and his crew got into their vehicles and left. Bruce sat on the bike and imagined cruising down the street on a bike that was made over a hundred years ago. It was a good feeling.

  Chapter 7

  Bruce and his security guards were admiring the Flying Merkel when a big Ford F-150 pulled onto the property. Bruce recognized the truck. It was Green’s truck. Bruce was glad Lee and Green just missed each other because they did not play well together. Bruce waved to Green and he backed the truck into the shop through one of the open garage doors. Green stepped out of the truck and greeted Bruce.

  “What’s up?” Bruce said.

  Green and Bruce hugged it out. “What’s this?” Green asked, pointing at the Flying Merkel.

  “Just got it,” Bruce said. “Pretty cool, right?”

  Green nodded. “Well, it could use a little work and it’s not my style, but I can appreciate it as an old, historical hunk of metal, I suppose.”

  Bruce shook his head. “No one ever accused you of having good taste in motorcycles.” Bruce pushed the bike towards the back of the shop. “What are you doing here? Where’s Old Goat?”

  “I don’t know where he is. I’ve been trying to reach him and he hasn’t called me back, so I made the run today.” Green threw the keys to Bruce.

  “What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” Bruce asked.

  Green shrugged it off. “His phone is off. I left a couple messages. He hasn’t called me back. That’s how I don’t know where he is.”

  “When’s the last time you talked to him?” Bruce asked.

  Green thought about it for a second. “Thursday night.”

  Bruce threw up his arms in disbelief. “Jesus Christ! You haven’t talked to your brother in
four days? You don’t know where he is and you’re just now telling me this?”

  “Calm the fuck down, man. If I had any reason to be concerned, I would’ve told you. This isn’t the first time he’s gone off the grid. He does this shit sometimes. That’s just how Old Goat is. He’s probably just shacked up with some ugly women and a case of Jack Daniel’s.”

  “Okay, this is your brother we’re talking about,” Bruce said as he took out his phone and called Old Goat’s phone. “You haven’t talked to him in days, he’s supposed to pick up two million dollars and he doesn’t show up, he doesn’t call, and he doesn’t give anyone a heads-up. Does that sound normal to you?” Bruce listened to his phone. It went straight to Old Goat’s voicemail.

  “For Christ’s sake, his phone isn’t even turned on,” Bruce said. “These are major red flags. How many times have we told you guys to always keep your phone on so we can track your location? And for some reason, you don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about?”

  “Look, Thursday night he mentioned something about needing a vacation, but I didn’t really take him seriously. I thought he was just talking shit. He’s probably just taking a little break. That’s it. He didn’t call me back today, so I went to pick up the money. No big deal. No problems.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Did you count the money? Is it all there?”

  “No, I didn’t count it. I’m not gonna count two million dollars by hand. It looked like it was all there so I brought it over here.”

  “Green, where the fuck is Old Goat? We need to know where he is. Was he arrested? Was he murdered? This is not normal behavior for him. This is something to be concerned about. If the cops have him, he could be talking to them about us right now. He knows everything about our operation.”

  “Don’t be an asshole, man. He wasn’t arrested. If he was, he would’ve definitely contacted me, or you. And you know he would never talk. Think about it. This is my brother we’re talking about.”

  “This is a major problem and you don’t even seem to care that he’s missing.”

  “Look, let me handle this,” Green said. “I will personally look into it if you’re that concerned about it, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. He’s done this before. It’s just the way he does things sometimes. Okay?”

  Bruce took a deep breath. “I’m gonna have to tell Lee about this and you know he’s gonna lose it.”

  “You don’t have to tell Lee anything. He doesn’t own us. If he has a problem with me or my brother, then tell that asshole to come talk to me.”

  Bruce raised his hands. “Relax. Lee is my partner. I know you don’t like him, but show a little respect.”

  “Respect? Respect? The guy is a prick and you know it. He treats you like his little bitch and you just sit back and take it. If you keep listening to that idiot, you’re gonna end up dead or locked up in prison. You think he gives two shits about you? He doesn’t care about anyone except himself. He shows you absolutely no respect whatsoever. You better learn how to say no to him before it’s too late for you.”

  Bruce walked over to the Ford F-150 and popped the hidden compartment in the truck bed. He glanced at the money and then closed it back up.

  “There’s another reason why I’m very concerned about Old Goat right now,” Bruce said. “We’re shutting everything down. I’m done with all this bullshit.”

  Green nodded. “Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “I’m serious,” Bruce said. “I told Lee. He knows about it. He agreed to shut it all down. We’re going to focus on our legitimate businesses.”

  “No offense, but I’ve been hearing you say that for over a year now. Lee ain’t never going to let you shut this thing down. No way in hell.”

  Bruce shrugged. “He already knows. I’ve already put things in motion. Corporations are being dissolved. We’re moving the money around, as much as possible. And, I’m looking at investing in legitimate businesses.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” Green said with a smile. “I’m still going to have to see it to believe it. I hope it’s true, though, for your sake.”

  “Now you understand why it makes me so nervous that Old Goat is missing. Is it the police? Is it a competitor trying to gain an advantage? You see where I’m going with this? I need to know for sure that there are no loose ends.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Green said. “My guess is that he just needed a break.”

  “I don’t want you to guess,” Bruce said. “I need to know exactly where he is and who he’s with.”

  Green nodded. “I get it. I will do some more digging and find out what the hell is going on.”

  Chapter 8

  Heavenlee Holdings Corporation (HHC) was located in San Jose near the city of Campbell. HHC was a holding corporation used to invest in a variety of different “legitimate” businesses. The business consisted primarily of an office building and financial interests in different corporations, partnerships, and limited liability companies. It was all designed to throw investigators off if they ever decided to take a closer look. It was a house of cards that could come crashing down at any time.

  Bruce and Lee bought the building years ago for $2 million. The building was worth at least $10 million in the current real estate market. It was an investment, but Lee also wanted a place to work in complete privacy. The entire building was just for Lee and his crew.

  The HHC headquarters was a one-story commercial building with over 25,000 square feet of space and had a massive parking lot that usually had no more than seven cars parked in it at any given time. Lee didn’t really need 25,000 square feet for an office, but it made him happy and it was a good investment. It also wasn’t bad for late night parties.

  Severo Moreno was escorted into Lee’s private office by two members of his security staff. Severo was a former member of La Familia Michoacana (LFM) drug cartel before they merged with Los Zetas cartel. Although he was no longer affiliated with any cartel, he still had connections in Mexico and was a major supplier of cocaine in Northern California. Bruce and Lee were one of his biggest clients.

  Lee Giordano sat behind his desk in his office. Severo walked straight to the bar and poured himself a generous glass of tequila.

  “How’s life, my friend?” Severo asked.

  “Life is beautiful,” Lee said. “How’s business?”

  Severo shook his head. “Business is great, man. Making more money than ever.”

  Lee looked surprised. “So, no problems? Nothing to be concerned about?”

  “Nada,” Severo said, the Spanish word for nothing.

  Severo took a seat on the couch in front of Lee’s desk. Lee got up, put his hands in his pocket, and slowly walked towards Severo.

  “You really think everything’s good? Nothing that concerns you going on in our territory?”

  Severo laughed. “Territory? I don’t have any territory, man. That’s the good thing about being a wholesaler. I don’t have to worry about territory.” Severo took a swig of his tequila. Didn’t phase him in the least.

  Lee sat down on the couch across from Severo. “I see. So, you don’t give a shit about my business as long as you get your money?”

  Severo smiled. He wasn’t sure if Lee was messing with him or not. “What’s this about, man? What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know what it’s about. Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who said you don’t give a shit about anyone’s territory. Apparently, you don’t have a care in the world. You don’t give a shit about me, your biggest fucking customer, or what might be going on in my territory.”

  “Come on, man. You know that’s not true. I was just talking. Tell me what you have on your mind. Something’s obviously bothering you. Why don’t you just say it? Stop fucking around.”

  “Do you know someone by the name of Francisco Carbajal?” Lee asked.

  “Yes, I know him.”

  “What do you know about him?” Lee asked.


  “Well, he’s involved with the Sinaloa drug cartel. He works down in Los Angeles. Our paths crossed once or twice. Why are you asking about him?”

  Lee jumped up from the couch. “Because he’s supplying drugs in my territory. We had a chat with one of his dealers the other day, a guy that goes by the name Pepper. Pepper told us he’s getting his drugs from Francisco Carbajal.”

  “Wait, this guy was selling cocaine in San Jose?”

  “He was selling heroin and meth.”

  Severo shook his head, confused. “Why would you give a shit about that?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Lee said. “We’re going to start selling heroin and meth and we need you to get it for us.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Severo asked. “I don’t sell that stuff. That’s not my area of expertise.”

  “So, you’re a supplier who can’t supply us with what we need?”

  “I didn’t know you needed heroin and meth until about two seconds ago. At least let me process the information before you lose your shit.”

  Lee nodded. “There’s a lot of demand for those drugs. People are paying top dollar for good quality. We already have the infrastructure, we have the right people in place, and we can take care of the competition. Can you get us what we need?”

  “You want to go to war with the Sinaloa Cartel over this? You have a perfectly good thing going right now. Why would you want to do something stupid like that?”

  “Are you my business consultant?” Lee asked. “No, you’re not. Do you understand that we can triple, maybe even quadruple our revenue if we get into the meth and heroin business? Are you interested in making more money? Does that interest you at all?”

  Severo got up and poured more tequila into his glass. “The funny thing about money is that it’s only useful if you’re alive.”