The Lawyer's Lawyer

by James Sheehan

  “Okay. How about if I do the paperwork tonight and bring it back tomorrow? That way, if you are released and as soon as you are released, we can file the claims bill.”

  “Sounds great,” Felton said.

  Jack returned the next day with a copy of a claims bill for Felton to keep and a contingency fee agreement for Felton to sign stating that Felton would give Jack one-third of whatever he received from the legislature as consideration for Jack’s past representation and his representation during the claims process. Jack did explain that he would most likely have to go to Tallahassee a few times to convince the legislature to do the right thing. They made a copy of the signed contingency fee agreement at the jail and Jack left Felton with a copy of that as well.

  “I can file the claims bill right away,” Jack told his client, “but I have no idea when the legislature will act on it. It could take months or even years.”

  “I hope I can wait,” Felton said.

  Jack had no idea what he meant by that remark.

  Jack was driving back from Bass Creek in a rainstorm when he heard the news of Felton’s release. The warden called him to tell him it was imminent.

  “I’d like to be there,” Jack said.

  “The paperwork is almost done. It will probably take no more than an hour to complete. After that I have no authority to hold him,” the warden said. Since Jack was at least four hours away, there was nothing he could do.

  Even though the only ostensible reason for Jack to leave his home in Bass Creek was to be in close proximity to the case, which had just ended abruptly, and his client, who would very shortly no longer be in prison, Jack continued driving to Oakville.

  “I just felt I needed to be there,” he told Henry later. “And I didn’t know what for.”

  He would find out soon enough.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The rain was coming down in sheets as Kathy made her way home late Wednesday night. She could barely see the red brake lights of the cars ahead of her as she drove north on I-95. Her windshield wipers were on the fastest speed but the rain was coming down so fast that it was as if they weren’t moving. Cars were pulling off on the shoulder to wait it out but not Kathy. She wasn’t wired that way. She’d worked overtime, she was tired, and she wasn’t going to stop until she was home.

  She’d read somewhere that it was rain like this that spawned the phrase, “It’s raining cats and dogs.” The way she’d heard it, a hard rain in London around the turn of the century would cause cats and dogs to be swept into the sewers—thus the phrase. She didn’t know if it was true or not but if it was, this was certainly a cats-and-dogs downpour. Kathy had never seen rain this hard anywhere but in Florida.

  She’d almost missed her exit in North Miami, catching a glimpse of it through the sheets of rain at the last minute. Once off the highway, she could negotiate the side streets almost from memory. Still, she was careful.

  “Shit!” she yelled out loud. She was on her street now and almost at her driveway when she remembered that she couldn’t pull into the garage. Her ex-husband, Steve, had stored some of his stuff in there and had not yet picked it up although Kathy had been on him to do so. The divorce had been six months ago and his shit was still there. “If he doesn’t pick it up this week, it’s all going in the garbage!” she told the air as she reached into the backseat with her right arm and rummaged for her umbrella, which was on the floor back there somewhere.

  She pulled into the driveway. The rain was coming down harder now, harder than she had ever seen it. She put the car in park, turned it off and half opened the umbrella. There was a trick to this. If she opened the door, stuck the half-opened umbrella out first and opened it fully, she might not get as wet as she sprinted from the car to the front door. The shoes were new. She wanted to save them if she could.

  She opened the door, but the rain was coming down too hard, and she had not anticipated the wind, which suddenly shifted toward her. The umbrella was up quick enough but she was still soaked by the time she stood upright. Nothing to do now but make the mad dash. Between the rain, the darkness, and the wind, she had trouble finding her own front door. With the umbrella positioned in front of her, she never saw the dark figure to her left. If she had, she might have thought it was a tree anyway. There was a tree over there somewhere.

  Finally she was at the front door, key in hand. She opened it as quickly as she could, but as she pushed the door in, she felt a force from behind her propel her across the threshold. She knew it wasn’t the wind; she could feel an actual contact with something. Then she was on the floor and heard the door slam shut. Someone, something was on top of her. She turned her head to look.

  “This is going to be so much fun,” a voice said as something struck her simultaneously on the left cheekbone. She felt a sharp pain, saw a flash of light, then nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Two days after Felton’s release, Jack received a phone call at the condo. It was about ten. He had just come from an early morning bike ride and had to retrieve his phone from the saddlebag under his seat.

  “Hello?” he said, resting his empty hand on the bike.

  “Jack?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “It’s me, Tom Felton.”

  Jack was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t recognized his client’s voice. “Hi Tom. How are you? Where are you?”

  “Just driving around. I was wondering if you had filed that paperwork yet.”

  “Not yet, but I plan on doing it within the next week.”

  “Don’t bother, Jack. I’ve changed my mind.”

  Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would a man turn down the opportunity to receive millions of dollars? It didn’t make sense.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “You wouldn’t want to tell me why, would you?”

  “I just couldn’t wait, Jack. I just couldn’t wait.”

  “I’ll hold on to them for you in case you change your mind,” Jack said, not really understanding Felton’s answer. Felton did not respond. He’d already hung up.

  Jack had barely closed the cell phone when he received another call. It was Henry.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Jack asked.

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Nope. I’m leaning on my bike as we speak. Had a great ride this morning. Why?”

  Henry didn’t answer right away, causing Jack to think he had lost the connection.

  “Henry, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, Jack, I’ve got some bad news. I was listening to the morning news here in Miami and they were reporting the murder of a young woman. They wouldn’t release the details. All they would say was that it was a brutal murder. Jack, the woman’s name was Kathleen Jeffries.”

  “Oh my God. It’s not Sam Jeffries’s daughter, is it?”

  “I’m not positive, but I remember reading somewhere—I think it was the newspaper accounts when his wife was murdered—that he had a daughter and her name was Kathleen or Eileen or something like that.”

  Jack let his bike fall over and almost fell to the ground himself. The realization of what might have happened was starting to sink in. He remembered as well that Sam Jeffries had a daughter although he couldn’t remember her name.

  Please. Please, let it be some other Jeffries, not Sam Jeffries’s daughter.

  It was Henry’s turn to wonder about the connection.

  “Jack, are you there?”

  Silence.

  “Jack?”

  “I’m here, Henry. Are you checking into the details of the murder?”

  “I don’t have time, Jack.”

  “You don’t have time?”

  “No. The more I thought about this and the possibilities, the more I thought I need to get on a plane. I’m heading to the airport right now. My plane leaves in a little over an hour.”

  Jack understood, finally. Henry was putting the pieces together.
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  “Hannah?” he asked.

  “That’s my guess, Jack, although Danni’s a possibility. I figure she’s probably heading to the same place I am if she knows. Will you give her a call just to make sure?”

  “I’ll give you her cell phone number, Henry. I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me right about now. And frankly, I don’t think I could handle that conversation.”

  “Jack, I know you don’t want to hear this, but don’t blame yourself if this turns out the way it looks. You were just doing your job. I’m as responsible as you. We just made a mistake, that’s all.”

  “Is it just a mistake, Henry? Do you think Chief Jeffries will see it that way? Maybe I think I’m too smart sometimes. Maybe I think I know more than the people who put people away for a living. Danni kept telling me to leave this alone, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hear her.”

  “Stop it, Jack. We don’t even know for sure that it’s him. We’re just speculating.”

  “Oh, it’s him, Henry. I know it. I just talked to him. He told me not to file a claims bill. Said he couldn’t wait. I didn’t know what he was talking about until this moment. He couldn’t wait to kill again.”

  “Jack, he’s a psychopath. Nobody can read those guys. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “If not me, Henry, who? Here’s Danni’s number. I can’t talk anymore.”

  He gave Henry the number and abruptly hung up the phone.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Henry called Danni right after he hung up with Jack. He was ten minutes from the airport and his plane was leaving in an hour. He had to park and get through security in that time. He held the phone in his left hand as he sped down the highway doing close to ninety.

  It had been two years since he’d spent any real time with Danni. She’d shown up at the condo that one day after Jack had taken Felton’s case to express her displeasure, but that didn’t count. He didn’t care about the lapse of time, however. This wasn’t a social call and now that he’d been put on notice, he wasn’t going to let another person die if he could help it. If it was awkward, so what.

  She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Danni, this is Henry Wilson.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line, which Henry expected.

  “I don’t know if you heard about the murder in Miami.”

  “I did. Somebody from the department called me about fifteen minutes ago.”

  Her voice was hard and cold. Henry could feel the antagonism on the other end of the line.

  “Danni, I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “What for?”

  “It’s my understanding that your daughter is still in school at Boulder.”

  “Henry, I don’t need your help. I’ll take care of my daughter. Don’t you think you and Jack have done enough?”

  Henry ignored the remark. “My flight leaves in less than an hour. I figure now that you know, you’re on your way as well. And I assume you’ve instructed Hannah not to go home.”

  “I have.”

  “And to go to a well-populated public place.”

  “Yes.”

  “When’s your flight?”

  “Four hours from now. I have to drive to Tampa.”

  “I’ll be there three hours before you. Tell me where to meet her.”

  Again there was silence on the other end.

  “Danni, this isn’t about me or you, or Jack for that matter. It’s about Hannah. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anything happen to her. Now where should I meet her?”

  “The Boulder Book Store on the mall.”

  “Is there a coffee shop nearby?”

  “There’s one in the store.”

  “Okay, we’ll go there and wait for you to arrive. Then you and I will come up with a plan. Will you call her and tell her to look for me?”

  Silence.

  “Danni?”

  “Yes, I’ll call her. I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Jack sat on the floor after hanging up with Henry. He didn’t want to get up. Getting up meant dealing with what had happened. Maybe if I just stay here it will all go away. But he knew that was childish thinking. Besides, it wouldn’t work. No matter where he was, he couldn’t just turn off his mind. Couldn’t force himself to go to sleep. There was at least one way to turn it off though. He stood up, walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass with his right hand, the Jack Daniel’s with his left, and headed for the patio.

  He wanted to howl at the moon, although it was a little too early to do that. He wanted to scream about the unfairness of life. But life hadn’t been unfair to him. He’d lost Pat, his wife, to cancer, but that was a far cry from losing both your wife and your daughter at the hands of a psychopathic murderer. Sam Jeffries, not Jack, had an absolute right to howl at the moon. Jack took a long pull from the bottle. He hadn’t needed the glass after all.

  Only when he was good and drunk could he return to the scene of what he considered his crime. When he was devoid of the ability to rationalize his actions—that’s when he went back. His soul needed condemnation not vindication.

  It was vanity! that little voice inside his head told him when he arrived at the state of mind he so craved. It was all about your vanity! Nobody had ever gotten a serial killer off before—nobody but the great Jack Tobin. You should be proud of yourself, Jack. You did it! And don’t let it bother you, don’t let it ruin your night that the son of a bitch was actually guilty. Somebody else got killed, it’s true, and there may be more, but there are always casualties on a man’s road to success. Some have to fall for others to rise. It’s the nature of the universe.

  If Henry was there, Henry would have reminded him of the true facts: You and I came to see Ben Chapman at Chapman’s request, Jack. You didn’t want to take this case. You didn’t even want to look at the file. I talked you into it. Once you saw this man had been set up by the police, that’s when you couldn’t let it go. Vanity had nothing to do with it, Jack. Injustice was the culprit.

  But Henry wasn’t there.

  Chapter Forty

  Henry didn’t find Hannah at the Boulder Book Store—she found him. She came running up to him as he walked in the door and gave him a big hug. He hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving two years before. She was a little taller and she looked more grown up and healthy. That zest for life that college kids possessed seemed to ooze from her pores. She was smiling from ear to ear at the sight of him.

  Kids, Henry thought, even though he was referring to a twenty-year-old. They’re so open with their feelings. We could learn a lot from them.

  “Hi, Henry,” Hannah said. “I hear you’ve come to rescue me.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Henry replied. “I’m just helping your mom out here.”

  “Do you really think this guy is after me?”

  “I don’t know, Hannah, but we can’t take any chances.”

  “Where’s Jack?”

  “He’s back in Gainesville. He’s going to do what he can from there.”

  “Mom’s pretty pissed at him.”

  “It’s understandable, but Jack had his reasons for representing Felton.”

  “That’s not what Mom said.”

  “I know. Don’t they teach you at school to look dispassionately at all sides of a problem?”

  “Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, this is one of those problems that has many sides, and since it’s about life and death, it brings out the best and the worst in people. Are you hungry?”

  “Kinda.”

  “We’re going to meet your mother at the coffee shop here in three hours. Why don’t we get something to eat.”

  “Okay. There’s a great vegetarian restaurant right down the street.”

  “Are you a vegetarian?”

  “No. I’m a vegan.”

  “And
what exactly does that mean?”

  “No meat, no dairy, no eggs, milk, or cheese, and no fish.”

  “So what do we eat, the bark off the side of a tree?”

  “Very funny,” Hannah said. “You just wait—you’re going to love it.”

  Henry didn’t know that he had consented to go to Hannah’s restaurant but she was already on her way. She’s a lot like her mother, he decided.

  Danni had a lot of time to think on her drive to Tampa and her flight to Denver. Henry would probably have some suggestions about how best to protect Hannah. Danni felt that nobody could protect her daughter as well as she could. However, something else very powerful was building inside of her—the need to find Felton and kill him. While Hannah’s security was still paramount, she trusted Henry to see to it. They weren’t that close and Henry had participated in the decision to help Felton get out of jail, but there was that day in a small apartment in Miami when Henry could have walked away and saved his own life and didn’t. He’d had her back, and he would have Hannah’s back no matter what—Danni was certain about that. So if Henry’s suggestions allowed her to go back to Oakville and find Felton or let him find her, Danni was going to listen. After all, finding Felton and killing him was the best security of all.

  Henry watched Hannah bolt from the chair in the bookstore coffee shop, run to her mother, and throw her arms around her. He had seen Danni walk through the door a second before Hannah saw her. She’d looked stressed and troubled. Her daughter’s hug had momentarily replaced that look with a smile of genuine joy. Hannah was slightly taller than her mother now but the two women looked so much alike. Other people glanced up from their computers, books, and lattes to watch and listen to the reunion.

  “You look great!” Danni told her daughter.

  “Not as good as you, Mom. You always look great.”

  The two women approached the table where Henry was waiting. He stood up and put out his hand. Danni didn’t take it. She walked around the table and gave him a big hug.