NATURAL
JUSTICE
PETER O’MAHONEY
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller
Peter O’Mahoney
Copyright © 2021
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.
NATURAL JUSTICE
TEX HUNTER SERIES BOOK 6
PETER O’MAHONEY
Also by Peter O’Mahoney
*****
In the Tex Hunter Series:
Power and Justice
Faith and Justice
Corrupt Justice
Deadly Justice
Saving Justice
*****
In the Jack Valentine Series:
Gates of Power
Stolen Power
The Shooter
The Thief
*****
In the Bill Harvey Legal Thriller Series:
Redeeming Justice
Fire and Justice
Will of Justice
A Time for Justice
Truth and Justice
*****
Chapter 1
The lock was broken.
Criminal defense attorney Tex Hunter had only been in Longford, Illinois for five days, but word traveled fast in small cities. He jiggled the door to his temporary office, pushed his shoulder against it, and it popped open without using his key. He stepped inside the office space and looked around—his computer was on the floor, chairs were tipped over, and the drawers of the cabinet were left open, with several files spread across the worn gray carpet.
Hunter didn’t leave any sensitive information in the office. He knew better than that. He’d rented the office through an agent five days earlier, but he could sense their distrust for him when he picked up the keys. There wasn’t much to the bland office in the half-empty strip mall, as there wasn’t much to the city surrounding it, but it was the closest available office to the courthouse. He placed his briefcase on the wooden desk and saw a note, scrawled on a plain piece of paper in red pen. ‘Go home,’ it read. He never expected to be welcomed in the small city of 15,000 people close to the Illinois-Kentucky border, he never expected them to like him, but this was worse than he anticipated. Five hours from his home in Chicago, and only twenty-five minutes’ from the state border to Kentucky, the city felt more Southern than Midwestern, and in the middle of July, the heat was almost unbearable. It was the worst heatwave in five decades, the news said. The air was thick with summer humidity, making an oven out of any outdoor space.
Hunter picked up the office chair from the floor, gathered the loose files, and sat down. He removed the folder from his briefcase and opened it to the photo of his new client, Javier Mitchell. A twenty-one-year-old Mexican-born man facing life in prison for the murder of all-star city jock, Chad Townsend. Although he had an American passport, Javier Mitchell spent his formative years in Puerto Vallarta on the Mexican Pacific coast with his American father and Mexican mother.
A sedan skidded into the parking lot outside Hunter’s temporary office, stopping across two spaces with little regard for the white lines. It was a police vehicle—one of only ten in the local area. Hunter recognized the man that stepped out of the car. He’d seen his photos displayed across the city’s website. Phillip Michael Richardson, the third. He was the Police Chief of Longford, like his father before him.
Richardson didn’t stop as he walked through the office door. He didn’t knock, he didn’t pause, and he didn’t announce his arrival. This was his city, his town, and outsiders weren’t welcome. He stormed into Hunter’s separate office space and slammed a photo on the desk in front of Hunter.
Hunter raised his eyebrows. “I assume you’re Chief Richardson.”
“I’m not here to play games, boy.” Richardson’s wiry white hair was dripping with sweat; his face had the redness of a man who spent most of his nights at the bar, and even in his sixties, he had arms thick enough to be tree trunks. An odor of cigarette smoke followed him into the room, and yellow patches of sweat stained the collar of his white shirt. “This isn’t your city. This isn’t Chicago. This is Longford, Southern Illinois. Hear that—Southern Illinois. My city. My place. My rules. I give the directions here. If I say jump, then people jump.”
“I assume you’re Chief Richardson?” Hunter repeated.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” Richardson pointed his yellow-stained finger at Hunter. “I’m in charge. You’re in a different world now.”
Hunter waited, without responding, staring at the cop. He couldn’t break now. If he showed any weakness, if he showed any fear, Richardson would exploit it for the entire case.
“That’s our dead kid. Look at him.” Richardson grunted, pressing his finger into the A4-sized color photo. “I said look at him! He could’ve made it to the big leagues. He could’ve been anything. He could’ve put our city on the map. But your client, that scum piece of trash, killed our boy in cold blood, and it’s going to be my mission to see he pays for what he did.”
“If that’s the city hero, then you need to make sure this case goes by the book. You need to make sure you don’t break any rules that’ll let my client walk.”
“Really? You’re that stupid?” Richardson scoffed. “Is that how you think it works here? You think your big city processes will work down here?”
Hunter stood, his imposing height looming over Richardson. Richardson scoffed again. He looked Hunter up and down, and then wiped the sweat off his brow. “You’re the son of a serial killer, right?”
Hunter didn’t respond.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve read about you. As soon as we saw your name on the files, tongues were wagging. People needed to know why a big city lawyer is coming all the way out here to defend a twenty-one-year-old kid. So, we did our research—your father killed eight teenage girls. A serial killer for a Dad. And somehow, someway, they let you become a lawyer. Your family’s past isn’t going to go down well in this city. We’re good people here. Honest. Hard-working. We live life by the book. We don’t take kindly to outsiders, especially not ones from Chicago.” Richardson paused and stared at Hunter. “I need this Mexican kid to stay behind bars. The people of this city are expecting someone to pay for this murder, and I need it to be this kid.”
“And I need to get him free.” Hunter’s response was blunt. He remained standing. “I’m here to defend a man who’s claiming he’s innocent.”
“You won’t win in this city, lawyer boy,” Richardson grunted. “This is my town, these are my people, and I need to protect them. I own this city and everyone in it.”
“You don’t own me.”
“Not yet.”
Richardson held Hunter’s stare for a long moment, before he turned and walked back through the door, pushing hard against it as he went past. The door almost fell off its hinges. Hunter stepped around his desk and walked to the entrance, standing on the sidewalk while Richardson squealed the tires of his car going out of the parking lot.
Hunter didn’t know a lot about the case yet, but one thing was painfully obvious—there would be trouble ahead.
Chapter 2
Tex Hunter’s life had been drenched in hate. He saw it everywhere he went. School. Work. Social occasions. His family’s name had shadowed h
im most of his life, covering him in a long dark cloud of disgust. He was only ten years old when his father was arrested, still just a child when his life changed forever, and he had no idea the impact those events would always have on his life. He had no idea he would spend his teenage years defending his family name, he had no idea he would spend his adult life fighting for respect, and he had no idea he would dedicate his life to proving his father’s innocence. Through it all, hate was a constant. Always there for him. Hate was the feeling, the friend, he knew best. He tried his best not to return the hate. He tried his best to always turn away. Hate, his mother once told him, is the fire that fills the world with evil. But sometimes, when it all became too much, when the rage would conquer him, hate was the feeling that unleashed. That uncontrollable rage, that hate, frightened him when it bubbled to the surface.
Hunter switched on the desk fan in his office, blowing hot air into his face, and loosened his tie. He looked up at the air conditioner and considered turning it on, but it’d seen much better days. Much of the office had. In fact, most of the city had. The city of Longford was suffering the same fate as many cities around the area had—it was dying a long, slow, and painful death. Once fueled by the coal mine industry, the city’s population had been cut in half since its heyday. Longford survived as the commercial and retail hub for the surrounding farming towns, and the service industry was the only remaining type of commerce that stopped the city from completely falling apart.
There was a knock at his door. It creaked open, and a woman’s voice called out, “Mr. Hunter?”
Hunter stood and walked to greet the woman at the door. “And you must be Mrs. Delany.”
After Hunter had put out a call for a legal assistant in the city of Longford, Carol Delany had by far and away the most impressive resume. She was in her sixties, but looked much younger than her years, bringing a sense of calm and peace with her. The look on her face was nice, friendly, and relaxed. She held herself well, with pride. Her blonde hair was well kept, her blue dress was new and well-fitted, and the smell of spring followed her.
“Please, call me Carol. No need for any formality. We’re here to work, not to impress each other.” She looked back at the door. “Problems already?”
“A guy is coming to fix it this afternoon.” Hunter nodded. “It’s no problem.”
“I’m sure,” she said in a tone that didn’t seem convinced. She entered the office, reached across, picked up the air conditioner’s remote control, tapped it twice on the wall, and then turned on the machine. A puff of dust spluttered out before it whirled into action. “This used to be an accountant’s office, but he retired around five years ago. Nobody’s been in the office since. On the corner of this block is one of the busiest shops in Longford—a taxidermist. That should give you an idea about the priorities around here.” Carol leaned forward. “And young man, I’ll give you some advice for free—if you’re ever being chased by a pack of taxidermists, don’t play dead.”
Hunter tried not to smile, but his dimples gave his reaction away. It was hard not to smile in the presence of Carol. She had a cheeky grin that warmed the room.
“You’ve got a sense of humor. That’s good.” Carol smiled back.
Hunter motioned for her to sit on the chair in front of his desk as he walked around the other side and sat back down. “This’ll be my office while I try to work through this murder trial. I’ll be down here from Chicago a few days a week until the resolution of this case or the trial, but hopefully, it doesn’t get that far. Hopefully, we’ll have a resolution shortly, and we can get this circumstantial case thrown out.”
“Thrown out? In this case? I doubt that very much.” Carol sat down opposite Hunter’s desk, holding her purse on her lap. “And tell me, I know we spoke on the phone, but before we go any further, I need to know why a big-time lawyer like you would take on a small city case like this? This case is almost a slam-dunk for the prosecution team. We’ve got a poor Mexican kid accused of killing the city jock in an altercation in a park on a Friday night. There must be a reason why you’re here, and before we go any further, I would like to know why.”
“I’ve been asked to help Javier.”
“By whom?”
“Someone important to me.”
Carol paused a moment, and then smiled. “Mr. Hunter, let’s get one thing straight. You won’t find a better, or more experienced, legal assistant within fifty miles. So, if you want me to take this job, then you’d better answer my questions. Respect flows both ways.”
Carol was right. He struggled to find anyone with the expertise to assist him. No other applicant on the list even came close, and she exceeded all his criteria. She had twenty-five years’ experience with a defense lawyer who retired five years earlier and had been filling in around the southern part of the state since.
“It seems everyone around here likes to hear a straight answer.”
“You can trust me,” Carol added, sensing Hunter’s reluctance. “I’ve chosen to help you because I know there’s a lot of corruption in this city, I’ve seen it firsthand, but we’ve never had the chance to beat them. With you on our side, I figure you might be able to expose some of the fraud that happens here.” She drew a breath. “But first, I need to know that Javier isn’t connected to any drug gangs. That’s the rumor circulating these parts. This city has had enough problems with hard drugs, and I won’t help any gang member, whether they’re innocent or not. If you’re here to help the drug gangs bring in ice, opioids, or methamphetamines to Longford, then I’m walking straight back out that door.”
“My presence here isn’t gang-related.” Hunter leaned forward on his desk. “Somebody who knows Javier’s mother and father has asked me to help. That somebody has information I need. If I get Javier out of prison, then they’ll provide the information to me. That’s why I need to win this case.”
“Sounds like its important information.”
“Very.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Carol placed her purse on the ground next to her. “You’ve hired me to help with this case, but I’m guessing what you really need is my local experience. You need to know how this city works. Who has power over who.”
“Chief Richardson stopped by this morning, giving me a nice welcome to Longford. He told me he owns this city.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Phillip used to be such a nice guy, a real community cop, there for everyone. But ten years ago, his wife was killed by a foreign driver who was high on meth, and Phillip changed overnight. He turned into a hardline Police Chief. Anyone who even thought about hard drugs was thrown in prison. And that hardline stance spread to everything, except the corruption in City Hall.” She stood and motioned for Hunter to follow her. “Come out here. I’ll show you where your problems are going to be.”
Carol walked back to the entrance of the office, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Hunter followed.
“You probably have a lot better view than I do.” She looked up to his height and then pointed down the street to a building one block away. “That’s City Hall. That’s where you’ll find a lot of your problems.” She pointed further down the street. “And that’s the courthouse, that’s where you’ll be doing battle, and on the other side of that, just out of view, is the police station. Do your best to avoid Richardson. He’s on the warpath lately. And that,” She pointed to the blaring sun. “Is a very strong sun that’ll be annoying you all summer.”
Hunter smiled as Carol turned back into the office. He tried to shut the door behind him as he entered, but the top hinge was broken, and the door could only swing out to meet the frame.
“I spoke to your assistant Esther on the phone last week. She sent through all the details about the case, but I have a question about her.” Carol moved to stand under the ceiling air-conditioner, cooling herself down. “Why didn’t she come to Longford to help you?”
“She has work to do in Chicago. I have cases I’m still managing there while this case pro
gresses.”
“I don’t believe that. I think there’s another reason.”
“You’re quite inquisitive, aren’t you?” Hunter grinned as he leaned back in his chair.
“You have to be in a city like this. Everyone knows everything,” she said. “So, why didn’t she come to Longford with you?”
Hunter looked away, unsure how to respond. “We’re getting off-track. We should-”
“I’ve seen that look before. You like her and you haven’t told her.” She came back to the chair and sat down. “I’ll give you another piece of advice for free—after my many decades on this planet, I can tell you that love is what life is about.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hunter smiled. “I like your firm attitude, Carol. Conviction in your opinions is important.”
“Good,” she replied. “Here’s the deal, Mr. Hunter. You know my fees, and you know my experience. But I’ll only work for you if you agree that during your time in Longford, you’ll come to my house for dinner with my husband and family.”
“Sorry, Carol. I’m here to work,” he said. “I’m not sure I’ll have much spare time to socialize.”
“Well, good luck finding someone else.” She stood, picking up her purse from the floor. “There’s no one else in these parts with my experience, and there’s no one else in this city willing to help you. I’m the only lifeline you have. You take my deal, or I walk back out that broken door.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Hunter beamed. “I can’t let you walk out that door. It’s a deal.”
“Good.” She sat back down. “Then let’s get started.”
Chapter 3
In a region of Illinois where tourists rarely ventured, hundreds of miles from Chicago, was the Marline County Jail. Tucked away from the city streets of Longford, next to acres of farmland, the complex sprawled out across the flatlands, marking a gray scar across the green fields. The high barbed wire fences were the first thing most people spotted when they turned down the dirt road of Prison Drive. The closest house was a mile away, and even that was empty, boarded up after a prison hostage situation ended badly. Behind the tall wire fences and thick concrete walls, Division One of the Marline County Jail housed one hundred and fifty-five male inmates, most of them violent felons, and most of them repeat offenders.
Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6) Page 1
