Dead Lawyers Tell No Tales

by Randy Singer

  It ended only when Julia called them out, broke into tears, and told them she couldn’t take any more of this. The men took a collective breath, and Landon quickly apologized.

  “You hired me to be your lawyer,” he said. “But if you want me in this case, you need to start listening to my advice. We can’t win this case by just poking holes in the prosecution’s testimony. The jury needs to hear from you. And the jury needs to hear from Julia.”

  Elias shook his head. “Maybe I’m wrong,” he said. His voice, like Landon’s, was now low and conciliatory. “Maybe I’m so emotionally invested in this case that I can’t see what you see. But Landon, I’m the one facing jail time. And I don’t want to be sitting in a cell forty years from now, having missed my son’s wedding and my grandchildren’s graduation and who knows what else, wondering if I should have done it my way.

  “I appreciate your help. And I’m sorry that I ever dragged you into this mess. But I can’t have a lawyer who’s conducting investigations behind my back, one who doesn’t even agree with our strategy for the case.” He paused and looked at Julia for support. Finding none, he said it anyway.

  “As of now, I’ll be handling the rest of the case alone.”

  ///

  Landon walked down the driveway and climbed into the passenger seat of the truck.

  “What happened?” Billy asked.

  “I got fired.”

  Billy cursed—a long, creative string of words fit for the locker room. “You want me to drive this truck through his front door?”

  “Sure.”

  Instead, Billy put it in reverse and pulled away from the curb.

  On the way home, Landon vented. Admittedly, he was only a first-year lawyer, but he had never been fired before.

  “What did Julia say about it?” Billy asked.

  “She tried to talk him out of it.”

  “The man’s an idiot,” Billy said. Words to that same effect, though slightly more colorful, had been Billy’s theme the entire ride.

  “What about Jake?” Billy asked.

  “That was the worst part,” Landon said. “At the end of our conversation, I saw him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, listening. The kid had big tears in his eyes. When I looked at him, he just looked down and turned away.”

  “You think he blames it on you?”

  “No. I just think he knows that his dad is most likely going away for a very long time.”

  “The man deserves it,” Billy said. “What a jerk. He just fired the best lawyer money can buy.”

  “Maybe he deserves it, but his family doesn’t.” Landon said it more to the windshield than Billy. He thought about his own history—everything he had put Kerri and Maddie through. “And his family’s going to suffer a lot more than he is.”

  78

  WEDNESDAY PROMISED to be the hottest day in June with the potential for record-breaking temperatures by midafternoon. It was the type of day that made your sunglasses steam over when you walked outside. Even at seven thirty in the morning, on the short walk from his car to the office, Landon felt like he was wading through a sauna.

  Landon had called Parker Clausen the night before to tell his partner that the firm had been fired by its highest-profile client. Parker took it in stride. “We already got plenty of publicity out of that one. And it looked like you guys were going down anyway.”

  On Wednesday, Parker arrived at the offices early, wearing his trademark jeans and T-shirt, and did his best to cheer Landon up. His theory was that Elias King had planned on firing Landon all along. “That way, he’ll be able to argue ineffective assistance of counsel if he loses,” Parker said. “He probably doesn’t like the handwriting on the wall any more than you do.”

  The defense team gathered in the office at eight so they could make their way to Chesapeake Circuit Court together. Elias checked Landon’s motion to withdraw and told Landon how much he appreciated what the young lawyer had done. Everybody talked in hushed tones, as if they were going to a funeral.

  Before they left, there was a small rebellion when it came to wearing the Kevlar vests. It started with Billy. “I ain’t wearing that thing today,” he announced. “Too hot. Plus, I’m tired of wearing the same suit every day.”

  Kerri argued with him, but Billy had made up his mind. “Nobody’s trying to kill members of the Green Bay Packers anyway,” he said.

  Elias decided to ditch his as well. So did Landon, but he met some fierce resistance from Kerri. She pulled him aside and prevailed on him to wear it for her and Maddie. She was going to wear hers. Even though Kerri’s was specially designed for the female body and relatively thin, it still limited her wardrobe. “You think I want to wear this skirt and jacket on a day like today?”

  “Then don’t,” Landon said. “We’ll be fine. Besides, anybody who really wanted to take us out could tell we’re wearing a vest and just aim for the head.”

  “I’d feel better if you’d wear it,” Kerri said. “You can take it off in the bathroom once we get inside, just like every other day.”

  Landon felt like a wimp, but he put on the vest.

  “Thanks,” Kerri said.

  “You owe me,” Landon replied.

  They took three vehicles to court. The King family rode together. Kerri joined Landon and Billy in the truck. And the Wolfman, as always, followed in his own vehicle, lurking far enough behind to keep an eye on everything.

  They parked at the far end of the J&DR parking lot, in almost the exact same spots they had used the day before. Landon slung his suit coat over his shoulder. He was already sweating. He grabbed his briefcase and walked with the team across the parking lot toward the court complex. Billy had dressed more casually—slacks, a golf shirt, and shades. He wore his gun holster out in the open for everyone to see. His head swiveled this way and that, like a true bodyguard, vigilant and armed for action.

  On other mornings, the team had chatted about anything and everything as they made their way toward court and the waiting reporters. But today, with the specter of Landon’s termination from the case looming, they were grim-faced and silent.

  As always, Billy and Landon took the front of the wedge and walked side by side, with Julia and Elias right behind them. Kerri and Jake brought up the rear. The reporters saw them coming and turned their cameras in the direction of the defense team. The on-air reporters picked up their mikes and moved to the front of the media horde, prepared to shout a few questions and watch the defense team smile and say, “No comment.”

  Landon stared straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts. The press was in for a surprise today. Elias King would be finishing this case on his own.

  ///

  The mastermind had set his explosives in the middle of the night. He later returned to the court complex at 4 a.m. and parked in the corner of the J&DR parking lot. He was dressed in a business suit and, except for the weird hour of his arrival, looked like a well-heeled lawyer heading to court, briefcase and all.

  At this time of night, nobody else was around.

  He walked casually around the J&DR building, surveyed the dark quad, and ducked behind a row of pine trees. He waited a few minutes, looking back and forth to ensure that nobody else was in sight, and then slid down the length of the building, using the pine trees as cover.

  The large blue dumpster was located at the back corner of the building, next to the loading ramp, with a perfect line of sight to the quad. He slid the side door open, dropped his briefcase inside, heard a dull thud as it hit some trash, and then slipped in himself. He moved some garbage bags to form a perfect little nest and pulled the side slot nearly closed, creating just enough of a slit that he could see the entire quad. He opened his briefcase and assembled his rifle, attaching the scope, the sound suppressor, and a special plastic bag to catch the shell casings. He settled in and waited.

  The heat was a problem. By the time he had been in the dumpster for four hours, it was already approaching ninety degrees. The stench of the garbage
was suffocating. Sweat dripped from his face, and he wiped it away with a small towel he had brought for that purpose.

  By 8:30, the quad started filling up with pedestrian traffic, lawyers hustling back and forth, defendants trying to figure out which courtroom they belonged in.

  At 8:40, the mastermind got his first glimpse of the defense entourage, led by Landon Reed and his buddy, Billy Thurston. He couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the only one wearing a protective vest that day was Landon. Maybe his wife was wearing one as well. But Billy Thurston clearly was not, and Elias looked too thin to be wearing his, though he had on a suit coat and it was hard to tell.

  Interesting. This would require an immediate change in plans, something he hadn’t anticipated. But he had been trained to deal with situations like this. And he had come too far to abort the mission now.

  He knew the precise number of seconds it would take from the time the defense team first came into view until they would be in his direct line of fire fifty yards away. He had Sean Phoenix’s cell number and the text message already entered in his phone. He pushed Send.

  It’s on, the message said.

  He scrolled to the next number and put the phone on a ledge where he could easily reach it. He picked up the rifle and tried sighting in his first target. He cursed, unable to get a clean line on either Landon Reed or Elias King. First the kid, then Kerri Reed—both walking behind the others—blocked his line of fire.

  “Come on, come on,” he whispered.

  There. It was just the right angle. Kerri and the kid out of the way. Nobody crossing from the other direction. The media still twenty yards ahead of the defense team, preparing to ask their questions. He had two clear shots. It would all happen in rapid sequence now. His hand was steady, the crosshairs centered on Landon. He remained calm and relied on his training.

  He squeezed the trigger.

  79

  FOR LANDON, it felt like a blindside hit from an SEC linebacker. He grunted as the force of the blow knocked him to the ground. Behind him, he heard Elias yell and saw him crumple. Billy twisted and lunged toward Kerri, tackling her into the grass, where he blanketed her body with his.

  There was a loud explosion in a trash can a few feet away, followed by screams coming from every direction as tear gas filled the air. Bullets sprayed behind them, and Landon curled into a ball, covering his head with his arms.

  Gunshots seemed to be coming from the other side of the circuit court building, and the press, like dominoes, had all hit the ground. The smoke stung Landon’s eyes, and he could barely breathe. At the first break in the shots, Landon did a quick survey of his group. Elias was hit; the others seemed okay.

  “Let’s go!” Landon yelled, pointing to a small brick building away from the sound of gunfire. They had to find cover before the bullets started flying again. “Keep your heads down!”

  Billy pulled Kerri up and then helped Landon pick up Elias. “It’s my leg,” Elias said.

  Billy bent over and slung Elias over his shoulder. The whole group scrambled toward the building Landon had pointed out. Billy limped badly and fell behind.

  “You okay?” Landon yelled.

  The big man grimaced. “Twisted my knee.”

  Others were sprinting for cover in all directions as the Chesapeake police poured out of municipal buildings, guns drawn, shouting orders.

  The defense team reached the front of the small brick building and sat down. There were uniformed police officers everywhere now. Chaos still reigned in the quad with people running this way and that, but the popping of the sniper’s rifle had quieted.

  Amazingly, as Landon looked around, he didn’t see any bodies lying lifeless on the ground.

  ///

  After firing the first two shots, the mastermind had sent a second text message. This one triggered a series of explosive devices. Tear gas erupted from the trash can several feet in front of Landon Reed and Billy Thurston. Other explosive devices were rigged to sound like gunfire coming from the far side of the circuit court building. Then he picked up the rifle and fired a few more stray shots into the turf behind the defense team.

  The quad became a tear gas–filled madhouse in a matter of seconds. People scrambled for cover, confused by the explosions and the sound of gunfire. While the cops took over and focused on the opposite side of the circuit court building, the mastermind calmly disassembled his rifle and folded it into his briefcase. He opened the sliding door on the back side of the blue dumpster—the side away from the quad, the side sheltered by a concrete wall and the back of the J&DR building. He climbed out and quickly walked away, resisting the urge to break into a jog as he approached the parking lot.

  As he walked, he sent his second text message to Sean Phoenix. Just before he climbed into his car, the mastermind surveyed the parking lot to make sure nobody was staring at him. Then he verified that the message had gone through.

  It had. The mastermind believed in brevity, so the entire message was just six words.

  Mission status—targets hit but survived.

  80

  IT TOOK LANDON A FEW SECONDS to calm down, but he had always been able to keep his head when everyone else was losing theirs. His ears were still ringing from the sound of the gunshots and explosions, and his eyes were watering. But with the police pouring into the municipal quad, he seriously doubted if the shooter was still around.

  “How bad are you hit?” he asked Elias.

  “Just a flesh wound,” Elias said. He tried to force a smile, but it turned into a grimace.

  Billy already had Elias’s pant leg rolled up so he could examine the bullet wound in his calf. “I need your shirt,” he said to Jake. “So we can put pressure on this thing and stop the bleeding.”

  “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Landon said to Elias. He grabbed Kerri’s hand. “Come on.”

  Keeping their heads low, they zigzagged toward the circuit court building, running past the point where they had been when the shooting started. Landon grabbed his briefcase and suit coat, which were lying right where he had dropped them. The police were clearing the quad, barking orders to everyone, but there was enough chaos for Landon and Kerri to weave their way to the circuit court building.

  The place was already on lockdown, but the deputies recognized Landon. “I’ve got to get to Judge Deegan’s chambers,” Landon said breathlessly.

  “Nobody comes in or leaves.”

  “Look—somebody shot me and my client, and Judge Deegan needs to know the details.” Landon pointed to the deputy’s radio. “Give her deputy a call. Tell her I’m trying to get through.”

  “You don’t look like you got shot.”

  Landon turned and showed the man the back of his shirt and the bulletproof vest.

  “Okay,” the deputy said. He turned to Kerri. “You’ll have to stay here.” He told a second deputy to take Landon up the escalators to courtroom three.

  “I’m going to the day care to pick up Maddie,” Kerri called out as Landon was being led away.

  “Good idea,” Landon called back. “Make sure Billy goes with you.”

  Five minutes later, Landon was sitting in Judge Deegan’s chambers along with Franklin Sherman while two deputies guarded the doors. Landon had his suit coat off but was still perspiring like crazy, big moons of sweat forming under his armpits.

  He wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve. At this point, etiquette was the least of his worries.

  “What happened out there?” Deegan asked.

  “Somebody tried to kill Elias and me,” Landon said. The judge’s eyes widened, and Landon rapped on his Kevlar vest. “This thing works. As for my client, he’s got a leg wound, but I think he’ll be okay.”

  “Thank God,” Deegan said.

  Franklin Sherman said he’d been on the phone with the police officer in charge. “Elias King was hit in the leg,” he confirmed. “There are a few other injuries from people scrambling to safety, but the cops have now secured the scene. So far there
are no fatalities, and we don’t have anybody in custody.”

  Judge Deegan let out a big sigh, relief showing on her round face. “It could have been a lot worse,” she offered.

  She stood and stared out the window overlooking the quad. From his vantage point, Landon could see the far corner of the quad next to the Municipal Center. There were police officers everywhere, and they weren’t allowing anyone to move.

  Judge Deegan turned back to the lawyers. “Obviously, we’ll have to declare a mistrial. I think most of the jurors are already in the jury room. The others won’t even be able to get through the lockdown.”

  “I understand,” Sherman said.

  But Landon had other ideas. He was feeling heroic, having just survived a sniper’s attempt to take him out. And though he hadn’t yet figured out who wanted him and Elias King dead or how that might play into his defense, there was no doubt somebody had just thrown a couple of wild cards into the deck. For the sake of his client, who hadn’t yet officially fired him, Landon needed to keep their options open.

  “I disagree,” he said.

  Deegan tilted her head back, regarding Landon with curiosity. “Pray tell,” she said.

  “I think we first need to find out whether there are enough jurors and alternates inside the building and whether my client can attend court this week. And if so, we can’t let an attempted assassination of the defendant and his attorney extinguish his right to a fair trial.

  “Somebody is deathly afraid of what my client is going to say if he takes the stand or what we might prove as part of our case. Judge, I know in your days as a prosecutor, you must have had witnesses threatened and even received death threats yourself. In fact, I know you personally survived that courtroom shooting in the case with that Muslim imam—”

  “Kevlar vests are a wonderful invention,” Deegan inserted.

  “But I’ll bet you never let those kinds of threats derail the trials. Why let the justice system be held hostage by a killer? I say we find out whether we have twelve jurors in the courthouse. If we do, let’s sequester them overnight and make a decision on whether to proceed once we see how seriously my client is injured.”