by Dave Derin
“Sure,” I said with an understanding nod. “Would 1:00 p.m. on Monday afternoon be alright? I’ll have some food brought in to the office and we can have a lunch meeting.”
“That sounds great,” Susanna replied and glanced sideways across the room again.
The waitress brought my card back, and I signed the receipt and left a ten-dollar bill in the check holder before I put my wallet back into my coat pocket.
“Do you need a ride home?” I asked and ran my fingers through my thick, dark hair.
“Nah, but I appreciate the offer,” the redhead responded, picked up her canvas purse, and stood up. “I’m just going to call an Uber and head on home.”
“Okay, but I’m waiting with you until it gets here,” I stated and scooted my chair out from under the table.
We stood outside for less than five minutes before a white Honda with an Uber logo pulled up to the curb.
“Try to relax this weekend,” I told my new client. “We have a hard road ahead of us.”
“I’ll try,” she said with a slight smile, then turned and walked toward the white Uber. My eyes were mesmerized by her slender legs and juicy bottom in those faded jeans as she made her way down the sidewalk and climbed into the back seat of the taxi.
It was 12:45 in the afternoon, and I owed Destinee a status update. I hopped in my beemer and dialed Destinee from the car.
“How did it go?” my new paralegal blurted out after two short rings.
“Well, I got her released on bond, but she has to wear an ankle bracelet,” I responded and smiled to myself as I pulled out onto the highway and headed toward Mockingbird.
“That’s awesome,” she exclaimed with a tiny squeak of excitement. “I knew you could get it done.”
“Well, I appreciate the support,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m on the way back to the office now, so I should be there in about twenty minutes or so, okay?”
“Sounds good,” Destinee replied perkily. “I’ll see you then.”
I hit lunch traffic heading out of downtown, and it took closer to thirty-five minutes before I arrived at my office and pulled into the gravel parking lot behind the stripmall. I grabbed my briefcase from the back seat, and then strode toward the outdoor brick patio. As I walked across it, I realized that the tiny sprigs of grass and weeds that had shot up between the red bricks yesterday were now gone, and the two weathern, broken chairs had been removed. I unlocked the back door and walked through the dim hallway toward the storefront.
“Hello,” I called out. “How’s everything go--”
I stopped mid-sentence when I stepped into the main office space and saw the incredible amount of work Destinee had completed in a few short hours. The furniture had already been delivered, and she had placed the desks strategically on each side of the room with the black-and-green office chairs behind each one. Once the barber chairs were removed, we’d be able to rearrange, but it worked for now.
The old, faded orange chairs that were at the front of the shop were gone and had been replaced with the two wooden church pews. Her laptop was set up on the light oak desk on the right side of the office, and the 3-in-one printer sat next to it.
“Welcome back,” Destinee’s chestnut brown curls popped up from behind her desk and startled me, which made her giggle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just finishing up connecting this printer, so we’re almost set up.”
My new paralegal wore a black-and-white, 50s-style polka dot dress that flared out past her waist. The top was a high-cut sweetheart neckline, and she had a delicate string of white pearls around her neck. The bottom of the dress fell past her knees, and her petite feet were encased in shiny, red patent leather pumps. Sparkly, rhinestone-embellished black cat-eye glasses brought her spunky outfit together.
“Destinee, this is absolutely incredible,” I said as I gazed around the semi-furnished office in amazement. “How did you get all of this done so quickly, especially in those heels?
“I dunno,” she said with a small grin and a shrug as she continued to plug cords into the back of the laptop. “I’ve done a lot more with a lot less before.”
“Well, this is fantastic,” I said with a smile. “I’m very pleased with your efficiency.”
Destinee peered at me out of the corner of her eye, then gave me a half-smile and nodded before she stood back up and presented me with a small, square card. “Oh, the lady from the furniture store asked me to give you this.”
“Ah,” I replied with a grin. “Thank you very much.” I glanced down at the white business card and saw Lydia’s phone number written in beautiful penmanship across the back and then stuck it in my back pocket.
“No prob, bob,” my quirky paralegal responded, then grabbed a new ream of paper from the box and placed a small stack in the printer. She bounced around her desk and plopped down in the black-and-green chair, then pressed a few keys on the computer.
“All done,” the mocha-skinned young woman smiled as a test page promptly shot out of the printer.
“Perfect,” I replied and crossed my arms over my chest. “What time is it?”
Destinee peered through her black, rhinestone-covered cat-eye glasses at the bottom corner of her computer monitor, then answered, “It’s almost 1:30.”
“Okay, we probably have time to get the discovery request filed before the court closes today,” I said, then retrieved Susanna’s file from my briefcase, walked to stand behind my paralegal, and handed her the light green file. “Do you mind pulling up those motion templates and start plugging in Susanna’s case information?”
“No problem,” she said cherrily and set the file on her desk. After a few clicks of her mouse she began to type fluidly and rapidly.
“We need to request the full hard drive of the laptop mentioned in the complaint, and request that the chemical evidence be tested by our guy,” I continued as I paced around the room. “I’ll get you his contact information. I’ll have to look it up.”
“Mmhmm,” Destinee nodded without looking at me as she proceeded to type up the motion quickly.
“Oh, and I wrote the preliminary hearing date down in the file, but it’s on August first at 9 a.m.,” I continued to ramble.
“Okay, I’ll add it to your calendar,” my Cracker Jack paralegal replied, and once again did not stop her fast-paced typing.
“Thank you,” I said absently and rubbed my temples with the heels of my hands.
“Alright,” the petite brunette announced as she stood from her chair. “This motion draft is done if you want to go ahead and review it.”
“Already?” I asked in disbelief as I strode toward her desk.
“Yeah,” she replied casually. “It’s mostly all form stuff anyway, I just had to fill in a few details.
“This is perfect,” I praised her after I’d carefully read through the motion for discovery and found no errors in my new paralegal’s work. “Please go ahead and file this electronically, and I’ll get that expert witness scientist’s information so that we can request his services as soon as we receive the confirmation.”
“You got it,” she said with a grin. I from her desk so she could resume her normal position, and she proceeded to file the documents with all parties involved.
“And so it begins,” I said ominously, then cracked a devilish grin at Destinee.
“So say we all,” she giggled through the Battlestar Galactica reference, and I busted out laughing.
“You watch Battlestar?” I asked with wide, amused eyes.
“Um, only all of it,” she replied playfully.
“Well, what the frack,” I jested, which made her laugh so hard a tiny tear rolled down her coffee-colored cheek.
“Oh no, don’t cry now,” I joked.
“Frack,” she gasped between laughs, then wiped the tear away with the back of her hand and continued tittering.
“Hey, at least your new boss is funny, right?” I chuckled, then walked away from her desk to let her get back to work.
Now I had the strongest urge to go back and watch all the old seasons of one of my favorite classic sci-fi series, but I pushed the thought from my mind and headed over to my desk. I needed to at least attempt to be productive while I enjoyed this small hearing victory high. Destinee had placed the cardboard box that contained my office trinkets on my new desk, so I started to rummage through the memorabilia and set a few items out on my new oak desk. A black metal pen cup, a small container of paper clips, and a silver business card holder.
“Oh, and Destinee,” I was reminded that I needed new cards after I pulled out the silver card holder. “Would you mind designing us both some new business cards when you have a spare moment?”
“Sure thing, that sounds like fun,” she exclaimed. “I can probably have a proof for you to review by tomorrow afternoon.”
“That would be fantastic,” I replied and flashed her a smile over the top of her computer screen. “Oh, I never got back to you about the logo design, did I?”
“Not yet,” she shook her dark brown curls and continued to type away on her keyboard.
“I’ll get right on that,” I responded, then pulled out my phone and opened the email she’d sent me with her logo designs. I scrolled through them and was impressed that I genuinely liked them all. She had combined strong, clean lines with a few serifed fonts, and incorporated the exact shade of green I’d requested. I finally narrowed it down to my favorite, then stood up from the surprisingly comfortable rolling chair and strolled over to Destinee’s desk. She looked up at me over her cat-eye glasses, and I turned my phone toward her and showed her my favorite logo.
“I love this design,” I told her with sincerity. “Please incorporate this version into the business cards and website whenever you have a chance.”
“You got it,” she responded and gave me a quick thumbs up.
“Alright,” I said as I returned to my desk. “That’s one thing checked off the list.”
I set my phone on my desk and continued to pull items out of the box. I placed the silver-framed photo of my family on the corner of my desk so that it faced me, then reached into the box and pulled out a small, black wooden chess piece. The pawn had been a gift from my father, and the black paint was so worn from where I’d rubbed it that the brown wood showed through in several places. He’d given it to me with a reminder to never let anyone use me as their pawn.
“In the game of life,” he’d proclaimed. “There are pawns, and there are those who manipulate them. Make sure you never allow yourself to be a pawn.”
I’d never forgotten that cheesy dad lesson and always kept the chess piece close at hand. I set the shiny wooden trinket next to the family photo then turned to check out what was left in the box. I spent the next few hours arranging and organizing my reference books, office memorabilia, and desk trinkets. Before I knew it, the afternoon was gone, and it was 5:15 p.m. I stretched my arms high above my head to stretch out my torso, then heard my phone buzz to alert me to a new message.
I looked down at my phone on the desk to see a new text message from Susanna:
Cooper is at my house & he brought friends. They have a gun.
Chapter 10
I stared down at my phone in disbelief. I guess that answered my question about how dangerous Cooper really was.
“Destinee, I have a little situation and need to head out early,” I said as I grabbed my phone and shoved it in my coat pocket. “Please go ahead and lock up and have a great night.”
“Is everything alright?” my paralegal asked as she stood up with a furrowed brow.
“I hope so,” I replied over my shoulder as I rushed to the back door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I shut the door behind me and ran to my car. As soon as I slid into the driver’s seat, I called my friend Tony who was a Dallas city police officer. I prayed he was on duty tonight as I listened to the phone ring over and over. I started my car and put it into drive. I remembered Susanna’s address from her file. Luckily, it was simple to remember. I entered 102 Maple Avenue into my car’s GPS and pulled out of the gravel lot.
“Hello? John?” a heavy bass voice answered on the other end.
“Tony, I need a favor,” I bursted out and didn’t bother with any niceties. “I have a client who’s in trouble. Can you get a unit to 102 Maple Avenue? There’s a gun involved, and I don’t know how escalated the situation is right now. The suspect has an active warrant out, too.”
“Shit,” Tony replied huskily. “Don’t worry, John. I’m on it. My partner and I are on the east side right now. I’ll put an alert out and get over there right now.”
“You’re the man, Tony,” I shouted, and heard his police car sirens blare on the other end of the phone before I hung up and raced down the interstate toward Susanna’s house.
It was at this exact moment that I was grateful that my father had impressed upon me the civic duty that every Texan held dear: having a concealed weapons permit. I opened my center console and confirmed that my black-and-silver 40 mm Ruger was still nestled securely in its holster. I hoped I wouldn’t need it, but if Cooper had already introduced a gun into the situation, I’d need to be prepared to defend Susanna and myself.
I jumped off Highway 366 on North Akard Street, then took Cedar Springs Road north for a few miles until I reached Maple. I pulled into the residential area and found that it was one of those newly built cookie-cutter neighborhoods. The street was lined with similarly designed modest brick houses, all with matching white trim and red brick walkways that led to the front door. Each driveway led to a two-vehicle carport that was attached to the right side of the home. I didn’t see any police vehicles yet, so I made my way down to 102 Maple Avenue and parked across the street from my client’s one-story red brick house.
The front bay window of Susanna’s ranch-style home was illuminated from within, and I saw the shadows of four people moving around inside. The curtains were closed, but they were sheer enough that I could just make out the silhouettes of three men who stood and faced what could only have been Susanna’s voluptuous frame. I looked up and down the quiet street, but didn’t see any blue lights or hear the scream of police sirens yet. I watched the movement in the window closely and rolled down my window to get a better look. I could just make out the sounds of men shouting that came from my client’s house. I tapped my foot nervously and looked down the vacant Maple Avenue once more, then opened my center console and grabbed my holstered sidearm. The yelling continued, and I watched through the bay window as one of the men threw something against the wall that shattered so loudly I heard it outside.
I looked down the road once again, and still didn’t see any sign of a police presence on the way, so I took a deep breath, leaned my head against the seat’s headrest, then released the air slowly before I cautiously stepped out of my car and discreetly strapped on my 40 mm so that no concerned neighbor saw it from their window. I covered the handgun with my suit jacket, closed the driver’s side door quietly, then leaned against the car and continued to watch the shadows that moved in the window.
“Where the hell are you, Tony?” I anxiously looked both ways down the road again, then was startled by a woman’s loud shriek that came from Susanna’s house. I stood up straight, took a step toward the house, and put one hand on the gun holstered on my left hip. I couldn’t let her get hurt just because I waited for the trained professionals to get here. I’d taken several self-defense gun training courses and hoped they would serve me well.
I heard another terrified scream come from the house and looked through the window to see one of the men strike Susanna and knock her to the ground.
I had to make a decision.
Now.
I bolted as fast as I could toward the side door under the covered carport so that the men didn’t see me approach through the front window. I didn’t want to escalate the situation, so I left my gun hidden beneath my buttoned jacket, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell at the garage door.
“Who the hell is that?” A raspy male voice screamed, and a heavy stomp thudded toward the door I stood in front of.
“I don’t know, Cooper,” Susanna whimpered from the other side of the white wooden door.
I carefully controlled my breathing, plastered a big, fake smile on my face, and prepared to shake the hand of the asshole that was harassing my client. The side door was suddenly wrenched open so hard the metal chain at the top snapped, and a scrawny brute stood in the doorway.
His stringy blonde hair looked unwashed and hung in unbrushed strands a few inches past his shoulders. He wore black torn jeans held below his waist with a studded black belt. A dingy band t-shirt with Reign of Dissent scrawled across it in jagged letters enveloped his small frame. The wanna-be biker boy also wore a black leather vest that covered his bony chest but left his skinny arms exposed. I immediately recognized him as Cooper Sheridan from the picture I’d seen in Dodson’s file.
“Hi there, I’m John Stone,” I announced loudly as I held out my right hand toward the scowling punk and tried to ignore my racing heart as it pounded in my chest.
“And that means what to me?” He growled and crossed his lanky arms across his boyish chest. “What the hell do you want?”
“I’m here to see my client, Susanna Jenkins,” I said sternly and withdrew my open hand. “This is her address on file. I’m doing a post-release check-in on her. It’s standard procedure.”
I towered over Cooper as I pushed past his slight frame. He wasn’t that much shorter than me, but his hunched shoulders and tiny bird chest made him seem much smaller.
“Can you tell me where my client is, please?” My throat felt tight as I struggled to keep a pleasant tone in my voice. I didn’t know how close to the edge Cooper was at that point and didn’t want to push him any further until the police arrived.
“In there,” he grumbled and pointed his grimey finger through the small kitchen and into the carpeted den area.
