by Mark Nolan
“I’m not a lawyer, but I can have one out here in sixty seconds.”
“I’m not a lawyer either, but I’ll become one sometime today. Please get Bart on the phone and tell him that Jake and Cody are here to see him. He’s expecting us.”
The receptionist picked up the phone and gave Jake a skeptical look, as if he was about to be kicked out of the building any minute now. “Mr. Bartholomew, there’s a man here named Jake—no last name given—along with a dog. He claims that he and his pet have an appointment with you. But I don’t have him, or any animals whatsoever, scheduled on my calendar. Shall I call security?”
Her penciled eyebrows went up. “Yes, of course, Mr. Bartholomew, I’ll send them right in.”
She set down the phone and stared at Jake with a newfound respect. “Thank you both for your service, and congratulations on passing the Bar exam. The counselor will see you now. It’s the third door on your right.”
“Thanks, I visited that office in my youth, more times than I care to admit. I know everyone who works for the firm. You’re new around here, but I hope we can be friends too.”
Jake walked into Bart’s office and found him sitting behind his enormous oak desk talking on two landline phones, with one in each hand. The “ego wall” behind Bart featured an assortment of framed honors and certificates that memorialized how he had graduated from Harvard Law School and had been featured in media news stories.
Bart smiled at Jake and Cody and said, “I’ll have to call you two right back.” He put both phones down, stood up and held out his hand. “Jake Wolfe, future lawyer. Just look at you, and Cody too, soon to be a legal beagle.”
Cody growled when Bart called him a beagle.
The men shook hands, and Jake sat down in one of the leather chairs.
Cody sniffed the air and went around to Bart’s side of the desk. He sniffed a drawer and then looked at Jake for orders.
“Bart, do you have a pistol in that drawer?” Jake said.
“Yes. I think every lawyer should have one these days.”
“Cody, leave it.”
Cody returned to Jake’s side, and Jake patted him. “Who’s the smartest dog? You are, buddy.”
Cody sat down and stared at Bart as if he thought he was included in the meeting and was waiting to hear what the man had to say.
Bart smiled at Cody and then clasped his hands in front of him. “Do you have the oath card, young man?”
Jake took the card out of his pocket. “Yes, sir. I’ve got it right here, counselor.” He handed the card to Bart.
Bart read the card while nodding his head in satisfaction. “This could change your life, you know. Don’t underestimate the good you can do when you practice law.”
“Is our favorite notary public ready to witness my signature?”
“Yes, she’s been looking forward to it.” Bart picked up a desk phone and punched a button. “Karen, our newly minted lawyer is here to sign his card.”
A minute later, Karen came into the office. She was a grandmother who had gray streaks in her hair and an air about her that commanded respect for her many years of experience. Karen set a big book on the desk and opened it to a page filled with signatures and rubber-stamped markings.
Jake read the card. The oath said:
I solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of the State of California, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of an attorney and counselor at law to the best of my knowledge and ability.
He signed the card, and Karen witnessed his signature. He thanked her, and she patted him on the back. “Good work, Jake. Make us proud, kid.”
“I’ll do my best. And does this mean you might finally go out with me on that dinner date I’ve been asking you about?”
“Hmmm, let’s see,” Karen said. “You’ve been asking me out to dinner since you were sixteen and got arrested for being a minor in possession of beer. No luck on the dating idea so far.”
“Every police officer in America drank beer before they were twenty-one. When they had a beer, it was cute—when I had a beer, it was a major crime. Call the SWAT team.”
“Save your smooth talk for your first jury.”
“I’d always dreamed of trying my smooth talk on you at dinner, Karen. Are you telling me my hopes are dashed?”
“Sorry, kid, I’ve been happily married for forty-two years, and I’m a grandma. Dinner ain’t gonna happen in this lifetime.”
Jake put his hand on his chest. “Okay, fine, but my heart is breaking right now.”
Karen laughed and walked out of the room, shaking her head and smiling.
Bart said, “Congratulations, Jake. All that’s left to do is mail the card to the California State Bar and wait for them to record it.”
Jake shook his head. “Can your courier take it there right now? After all these years of time and effort, I can’t stand to just sit around and wonder when they’ll get it in the mail and make it official.”
“That’s a splendid idea. I’ll have a courier drive over there as soon as possible. He can ask to stand by while it’s recorded.”
“Thanks, Bart. I really appreciated your help while I slaved away with my law school studies these past years.”
“I had faith in you. You possess a self-righteous sense of justice that I love to see in a young attorney. I think you’re going to do great things.”
“Now all I need is a client or two.”
“I might be able to refer some clients to you from time to time. Our firm often turns away people who can’t afford our fees, or who have a simple problem that could be quickly solved by a young lawyer such as yourself.”
“I’d appreciate that. I have a referral for you too. A businesswoman named Lauren Stephens. I’ll text you with her contact info.”
“I’ve heard of her. What kind of legal help does she need?”
“Her husband was using hidden cameras to spy on his tenants in dozens of rental properties. Somebody murdered him this morning. Lauren could use some asset protection advice.”
“Yes. The vultures will be circling the widow before the sun goes down. I’ll get in touch with her immediately. Thanks for the referral.”
Jake’s phone buzzed with a call from Dick Arnold, a television reporter. When Jake had worked as a cameraman for a TV news station and website, Arnold had been a rival, competing for scoops on news stories. Jake let the call go to voicemail.
Arnold sent him a text: You’re going to wish you’d taken my call. I’m doing a hit piece about Lauren Stephens—your new girlfriend.
Jake’s phone vibrated again with another call. He looked at Bart. “You know Dick Arnold, the reporter? He’s threatening to do a negative news story about your new client, Lauren Stephens. Can I put his call on speaker so you’re a witness to the conversation?”
“Yes, by all means. I’d be delighted to hear that fool put his foot in his mouth.”
Chapter 28
Jake answered the call and put it on speakerphone. “This is Jake.”
“Jake, it’s Dick Arnold. Where have you been lately? Oh, that’s right—you got fired from your job!”
“Thanks for stating the obvious, Dick. Is there a point to this call? If so, get to it. Otherwise I’ll say goodbye now.”
“Wait. How did Gene Stephens die? Did he have a stroke while doing the nanny?”
“Goodbye, Dick.”
“Don’t end the call, or I’ll include you in the story. I have photos and video of you hugging the widow and driving the dead husband’s car. That was very chummy of the wife to give you her dearly departed hubby’s luxury automobile and wrap her arms around you too. How long had he been dead? A few hours? She didn’t even wait for his body to get cold before she latched onto you.”
Jake saw Bart scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. He thought for a moment. “You’re spying on the grieving widow’s home? I’ll alert the police to go from house to house until they find you and whoever�
�s helping you spy on her and the kids. They’ll want to see your photos and video, ask you a lot of questions, and take you to headquarters for several hours of interrogation. You might even have to stay overnight in jail.”
Arnold laughed. “You think you’re clever, but you’re going to be sorry for that prank you played on me.”
“Prank? What prank?” Jake said. “You know, I thought the one bright spot of being fired from my job was that I’d be free of your annoying presence.”
“You were wrong, as usual.”
“Don’t ever call me again. I’m going to block your number.”
“Fine, I’ll run a story about how you’re suspected of having an affair with Lauren Stephens. Gene died under suspicious circumstances. Hours later, Lauren gives her dead husband’s Porsche to Jake, her lover boy, and clings to his muscled body for support in her time of need. You look like a murder suspect, don’t you?”
“Be careful, if you run that lying slander and libel, Mrs. Stephens might sue you, your boss and your corporation for millions of dollars.”
“Yeah, right. See you on television, loser.” Arnold ended the call.
Jake cursed and made a fist. He looked at Bart’s written notes. “Wow, that’s a devastating list of torts you came up with.”
“I recently filed a libel lawsuit so I have all the tort law wording ready. If Lauren wants to sue, it won’t take long to create the complaint.”
“Whatever she decides, I think hiring your firm is a wise investment.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Bart said.
“Speaking of hiring you, I need you to add something to my will.” Jake patted Cody on the head.
“Ah, a guardian for Cody?”
“Yes, in the event of my death, I nominate Sarah Chance as the legal guardian of Cody. She’s one of the few people Cody will obey, and I know she’d take good care of him.”
“A veterinarian is a good choice.” Bart scribbled on the legal pad. “And who is your second nominee if Sarah does not survive you, or lacks the capacity to act as a guardian?”
“Terrell Hayes of the SFPD.”
“I have great respect for Terrell.” Bart wrote down additional notes. “All right, Sarah is choice one and Terrell is choice two. You can change that order at any time with a phone call to my office.”
“Thank you, Bart.” Jake stood up and shook hands again. He and Cody left the room and went down the hallway.
The receptionist said, “Have a nice day, Mister Wolfe. And good luck with your new solo law practice.”
Jake nodded. News traveled fast. He glanced at the name plate on the desk and saw that her name was Moon Hee. “Thank you, Moon, it was a pleasure meeting you. I believe your name is Korean, meaning learned. It suits you.”
Moon tilted her head. “How in the world could you possibly know that?”
“I visited the Republic of South Korea once when I was in the Marines. The United States has been helping them protect their border from the North Korean Communists since before you and I were born.”
“What did you do in Korea?”
Jake hesitated a moment. “I paid a visit to a man.”
He and Cody walked out the door.
Chapter 29
As Jake drove toward Lauren Stephens’ house he stopped by the auto shop to get some things out of his old Jeep. The repair guy was amazed to see Jake remove guns and ammo from unexpected hiding places.
Jake smiled. “You probably shouldn’t watch this. That way you can’t be compelled to testify.”
The repair guy shook his head and walked away.
Jake dug out all kinds of stuff and put it into the new Jeep, including a Remington 870 Wingmaster 12-gauge pump shotgun he had stashed inside a long cardboard box with a big picture of a leaf blower on the outside.
He put a hand on the Jeep and pressed his forehead against it. “You were a good friend—the best. Now it’s your time to retire and rest. Drive kids to school, parents to work, a family to a ball game. Be a good citizen. I’m going to miss you, but we’ll always be friends.” He patted his car on the hood and walked away with a sad look on his face.
Jake got in the new Jeep, drove to Pacific Heights, pulled up in front of the mansion and parked in front. He saw Terrell standing next to his police SUV, talking on the radio.
Jake pressed the key fob and opened the K-9 door.
Cody jumped out, pawed the grass and sniffed the air.
Terrell ended his conversation and turned to Jake. “We have two of the gang members in custody but neither one is saying a word.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“They were driving stolen cars, using burner phones, and that house was rented for cash with no paperwork.”
Jake nodded. “Professional criminals.”
Terrell pointed at the Jeep. “I want to take my car to your mechanics; they made your old heap look better than new.”
“Agent McKay gave me this fine armored vehicle as an ethical bribe, but it does come with some strings attached.”
“She’s playing you like a fish—but how come I never get any ethical bribes?”
“You’re too honest and superhero handsome. Nobody would believe you’d accept a bribe.”
“That’s just wrong. However as a law enforcement officer, I’m used to this bias, especially the part where I’m too handsome.”
Jake laughed. “Yeah, that must be a tough burden to bear.”
Paul walked toward them. He was wearing brand-new jeans, boots, and a t-shirt. Over that he still wore his old threadbare red-and-black-checkered flannel shirt—but it appeared as if it had been recently washed.
Jake looked him up and down. “You clean up good.”
“Mrs. Stephens had some people come out to the house. They brought all kinds of clothes, and they tried to give me a … hairstyle.” He shook his head.
Jake smiled and noticed that Paul’s hair was still long, as usual, although it had been shampooed. “You didn’t cooperate with the stylist?”
“I found some evidence while I was patrolling outside the house. Come on, I’ll show you.”
They followed Paul around to the back of the mansion. He went into a pergola, walking through an arch and onto a walkway with trellises overhead and on either side that were covered with vines. He stopped near a park bench.
“I asked Lauren about this place,” Paul said. “She told me her husband liked to sit on the bench under the shade cover and smoke a cigar in peace and quiet. The family would give him his space and privacy so he could think about business deals.” Paul pointed at the row of round paving stones beneath their feet. “Look at these stepping stones and tell me what looks out of place.”
Terrell pointed at one of the stones that had some dirt on it, although every other stone was clean. “The soil … maybe somebody lifted a stone and set it on top of that other one.”
“Right, and do you smell fish?”
“Dead fish. Is it fertilizer?”
“Yes, that’s why the police dog didn’t find this. The fish concentrate was purposely used in that planter bed right there, so it would mask the smell of this hidden stash.” Paul picked up one of the paving stones and set it aside.
Cody growled and sniffed a white plastic disc in the ground. Paul got down on one knee and leaned in along with Cody. He showed no fear of him. “I moved the stone and found this bucket lid. Look at what’s hiding below.”
Paul carefully pulled off the lid, revealing the inside of a five-gallon plastic bucket that was sunk into the ground. It contained one item—a hard black plastic case about the size of a loaf of bread. It looked like a small toolbox, with metal hinges on the back and latches on the front.
Jake stared at the case. “Grinds, that looks like the small cigar humidor you had when we were deployed overseas.”
Terrell squatted and took a picture with his phone. He put on latex gloves, carefully picked up the case and set it on the grass, then used his knife blade to pop the
two latches. Inside the box was a collection of personal items: earrings, bracelets, necklaces, lipsticks, cigarette lighters, sunglasses, etc.
“What is all that?” Jake said.
Terrell got a haunted look in his eyes. “It reminds me of the souvenir stash of a serial killer I saw once, but it only contained seven items. How many are in here? Maybe three dozen?”
Cody growled as he sniffed the box. The fur on the back of his neck stood up.
“All of those items belonged to women,” Jake said.
Paul nodded. “I feel the spirits of many wounded souls here, crying out for justice, and for closure.”
Terrell put the case into a plastic evidence bag. “Why didn’t you tell the police about this sooner?”
“I just found it a few minutes ago, and I don’t have a phone. I sold it to buy liquor.”
Jake said, “Grinds, I know your K-9 team already searched the house, but Cody and I are going to do it again, right now.”
Terrell nodded. “Cody has the best nose of any dog I’ve ever seen. I’ll help you search and then it’ll be official.”
Paul replaced the plastic bucket lid and set the round stepping stone on top.
They all walked toward the front of the mansion. Jake sent a text to Lauren, and she met them at the front door.
She swept the door wide, motioning for them to enter. “Jake, feel free to search anywhere in the house. I’ll be in the home theater room, watching movies with the kids and trying to keep their minds occupied.”
Jake notice that she had the look of a battle survivor. The thousand yard stare. He’d seen it plenty of times. “Don’t turn on the news, Lauren.”
She studied his face. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Good guess. I want to warn you about a reporter named Dick Arnold. He’s been spying on your home. He has photos of us hugging each other, and of me driving your late husband’s car.”
Lauren frowned. “I’ve never liked that guy. His news reports are like mean-spirited tabloid trash.”
“There are a lot of good people in the news media, but Arnold is planning to do a hatchet job on you.”
