The Cartel Lawyer by Dave Daren (ebook reader below 3000 TXT) 📕

knew about where he was and what he was up to, the better. He was no doubt with other young men with rap sheets that were bound to get him into more trouble. He was one of those kids I knew would end up in and out of prison for the rest of his life, at least unless something drastic changed him. But he didn’t seem like he put too much thought into anything he did, so I didn’t have much hope for reform.

All of my cases were taken care of for the moment, though I would want to reach out to the prosecutors for my two newest cases later. That could wait until after I had submitted my resignation letter. The document already waited on my ancient computer’s desktop when the machine finally came to life.

I’d written, and rewritten it, several times over the last few years. But I hadn’t had a reason to print it and submit it until that afternoon. I read over it to make sure that I had changed the dates and then sent it to the machine.

The company printer whined louder than my computer had when it kicked into gear, and I hurried over to retrieve the paper before anyone else could take a sneak peek at it. There were no ink smears or missing letters, a hazard that I’d come to expect with the out of date machine.

I signed the bottom of the page and then made myself a copy of the resignation letter for my own files. I put the copy into my briefcase and then took a deep breath to prepare myself to go talk to my boss. My boss at the Public Defender’s Office was a nice guy, a little overworked and stressed, and guilt gnawed at my stomach as I walked toward the only office with four walls and a door.

“Mr. Jones?” I asked as I knocked on the open office door.

The middle-aged man sat hunched over a case file with one hand on his forehead while the other held up a page with what looked like a mugshot. He had blonde hair that was light enough to hide some of the streaks for premature gray that the job had given him. Thin lines had already creased his forehead and the corners of his hazel eyes. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was loose around his neck, all signs that he was done with court appearances and client meetings for the day.

“Torres?” he asked as he looked up from his work. “What’s up?”

He gestured to one of the plastic chairs in front of his desk and then frowned as he realized there were files haphazardly piled in each one.

“I’m submitting my resignation letter,” I told him as I held up the paper.

“I knew it,” the overworked man muttered as he set the paper down. “You’ve been here longer than any of us could’ve expected.”

He rose out of his chair as his eyes pleaded with me, the heavy bags under his eyes seemed bigger, and his shoulders slumped inwards. He maneuvered around his desk, past the filing cabinets that overflowed with folders, and motioned for me to step all the way into his office so he could shut the door. He looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one had overheard, and then he closed us in before he grabbed the stack of papers in the right chair and relocated them to a corner behind his desk.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself as he motioned for me to sit down. “So you’re sure about leaving?”

“I am,” I replied as I took the now empty chair.

“Why?” he asked while he plopped down into his own seat then scooted it closer to the marred desk that hid under piles of paperwork. “Do you have too many cases? What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” I responded with an apologetic smile. “I’ve found a position somewhere else.”

“Ah, of course,” the exhausted lawyer sighed. “I’m shocked someone hasn’t poached you before. They’re probably paying you more, too… I can’t do much to give you a raise, but I’m sure we could work something out.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I need to take this next step.”

I handed him the resignation letter and watched as he took it with a look that made my heart ache. He seemed like he was one bad day away from a mental breakdown, but I had to think of my mom and the treatments she would need that the salary at the Public Defender’s Office would never be able to cover.

“You’re the best lawyer I have,” the stressed man said with a slightly pleading look. “No one else has such a high success rate.”

“I know,” I replied with a sad smile. “I have enjoyed my time here. And I’ll finish the Rick Smith case before I leave.”

“Alright,” he said with a sigh that came from deep inside his soul. “And you’re sure I can’t change your mind? Maybe you could stay and pick up fewer cases? Or just take a few on the side? Some of those firms will let you work at more than one firm.”

“No,” I said with a firm shake of my head.

“Okay,” he muttered. “I’ll let Rina know not to assign you any more cases. We’ll see about getting you a cake.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said as I held my hands up.

“We’ll see,” the public defender gave me a weak smile. “You know Rina is the one who actually runs this office.”

I couldn’t help but return his grin as I thought about the paralegal extraordinaire that assigned the cases and ordered all of the office supplies. She would definitely be an example of what I would look for in my own paralegal