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

Everglades. Despite my earlier worries, I hadn’t been fed to an alligator.

Though if I didn’t fix Camilo’s legal issues, then my next midnight trip would not end nearly as well.

Chapter 7

“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Alvaro told me as he dropped me in front of my apartment building.

“I can drive,” I responded with a glance into the back seat as I opened the passenger side door.

As the giant of a man sat right behind me, his head almost brushed the roof of the black SUV, and he barely had enough room for his legs despite the large interior. He watched me with his dark, almost black eyes, and my mouth went dry under his steady scrutiny.

“If you want,” the man said with a one shoulder shrug after what seemed like forever. “Meet me at the docks by ten.”

“I’ll need time to review Camilo’s other offenses,” I hedged.

It was almost two a.m., and all I wanted to do was collapse into bed until late afternoon.

“He and his file will be waiting,” the soft-voiced man said.

“Right,” I said with a nod. “I’ll see you at ten, then.”

I climbed out of the car, and the soupy Florida air washed over me. I had the sudden urge to take a long, hot shower to wash the humidity off. It clung to me as I strolled into the front door of my apartment building, though I didn’t relax until I heard the SUV speed away.

The elevator was empty, and despite my distaste for being closed in the metal box for even a few seconds, I was too tired to climb the stairs. So I stepped inside and pressed the button for the second floor. The door slid shut, and I closed my eyes as the cube jolted and then began to move upwards.

I burst through the elevator doors as soon as they were open wide enough for me to fit, and then hurried down the hallway toward my apartment. The inside was still dark, but I didn’t bother to turn on a light as I stumbled toward the bed. The comforter was still thrown back, and it beckoned me closer as exhaustion washed over me. I managed to strip down to my boxers again and set an alarm for eight a.m. before I collapsed into the waiting sheets.

Too soon my alarm blared next to my head, and I blinked into the early morning light as I tried to remember why I needed to be awake. The memories of the night before rushed over me, and I snagged my phone to turn off the irritating alarm as I forced myself to wake up.

I had enough time to wash the night off of me before my coffee was ready. The smell of roasted java drifted into the bathroom like a siren’s call, and as soon as I had shaved, I made a beeline for the caffeinated liquid. I poured myself a mug, and then added the last of my favorite amaretto creamer.

As soon as I had finished my coffee I slipped into a pale-blue button up and my favorite charcoal-gray suit. The fabric was nicer than anything I would have bought for myself, but my mother had found it on sale, and she’d given it to me as a present when I graduated from law school.

Once I brushed my teeth I drove straight to the docks and to the meeting I had with the vice president of Fuentes Shipping. The tall man’s Mercedes Benz S-Class sat in his marked parking spot when I pulled into the place that was quickly becoming mine.

The warehouse was quieter than it had been on my previous visits. There were only a few men in the main room as I trudged up the stairs, and I watched as they wandered between the crates and scanned them before they made some notes and moved onto the next.

Alvaro’s door was propped open when I reached the second floor of the warehouse. The giant of a man sat behind his desk, his attention focused on his computer and a small crease in between his eyebrows as he worked. Even distracted, the man gave the impression that he could break me like a twig, especially when his dark eyes snapped over to me when I stepped into the doorway.

“Good morning,” I said with a wave and a tired smile.

“Good morning,” the soft-voiced man nodded. “There’s donuts.”

He glanced toward a pastry box on the edge of the desk, and as I strolled over, I could smell the sugary sweet pastries.

“Thanks,” I said as I perused the selection.

I picked a blueberry cake donut and tried to ignore the rumble of my stomach as I brought it to my lips.

“Sure,” Alvaro shrugged and his wavy hair brushed across his shoulders. “Sit.”

The thin black leather cushion of his guest chair wheezed when I sat down to eat my meager breakfast, and I fought the urge to tell him it wasn’t me. Alvaro hadn’t noticed, though, or more likely, he was used to the sound.

The big man was focused on his computer again, so I turned my attention to the sugary concoction in my hand. The donut melted on my tongue, and I was so hungry that I finished it in three bites. I glanced toward the box again, then decided I would wait until I could find something healthier.

“Do you have Camilo’s file?” I asked with a look around at the neatly stacked folders and papers.

“Right here,” the company vice president said as he picked up an envelope from the top of one of the stacks.

“Thanks,” I responded.

I scooted back in the seat and then pulled the papers out of the envelope. The first page had Camilo’s mugshot, he’d smirked as he looked at the camera, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at