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

man from the night before with a dark brown ponytail and baggy clothes, but I had no doubt that my new employer had sent him. He lifted an eyebrow at me and then gave me a small nod while he pushed off the wall and walked toward me.

I turned toward the direction of the coffee shop as I debated whether I should take my car or not since the heat was already a heavy blanket, but my destination was only a few blocks away.

“Where you heading?” the young man asked as he strolled up with his hands in his pockets.

“Coffee shop,” I responded. “Are you coming with me?”

“Nah,” the guy shook his head. “I’ve got other work to do. Just here to tell you that the boss wants to see you this afternoon.”

“He could have called,” I said with a sigh as the knot in my stomach loosened.

“Not his style,” the dark-haired youth said with a smirk. “The boss wants you to meet him at the docks. The usual place.”

“Sure,” I replied. “Any specific time?”

“Alvaro’ll let you know,” the young man shrugged. “I’m just ‘sposed to tell you to be ready when the call comes in.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The dark-haired guy gave me a long look before he sauntered away now that he’d delivered both messages. The first was the verbal message about the meeting, but the second was the ongoing and more menacing message designed to remind me of who my employer was and what he could do. But at least I had until the afternoon to gather more information about Camilo’s case and to draw up a plan to have him released. I couldn’t neglect my other cases, though, and I was sure the cartel leader would expect a progress report on those as well.

I decided to take my car so that I wouldn’t be too sweaty for my meeting. I debated a clothes change, but the jeans were in good condition, and the suit jacket would give me a more professional look than just the button-up and pants. Satisfied that I would make it through the day, I unlocked my Honda and set off in search of caffeine.

My usual coffee shop had a parking lot out back, and I was grateful to find a spot under a shady tree that would cover my car well into the early afternoon. I parked, grabbed my briefcase, and then climbed out into the stifling heat.

I was pulled forward by the smell of coffee that washed over me even before I pulled the door open. It was rich and delicious, and my mouth watered as I stepped inside. The rich coffee scent was joined by the aroma of cinnamon and apple, and my stomach growled when I saw the plate of apple caramel turnovers on the glass display case.

On the wall behind the counter was a stretch of black chalkboards with the daily offerings written in white swirling letters. The specials for the week were a bright blue with illustrations of the drinks drawn next to them.

“Good morning,” the woman behind the counter said with a bright smile.

She had short, curly blue hair that brought out the pale hue of her eyes. She was curvy with a black off the shoulder shirt, jean shorts, and black fishnet stockings that accentuated her thick thighs. She had perfectly winged eyeliner, dark wine lips, and a silver septum piercing with filigree along the edges.

“Good morning,” I said with a smile.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied as I ran my hand through my hair. “It’s been a bit busy.”

“Life happens,” she said with a shrug. “Do you want you usual?”

“That sounds great,” I answered. “Unless any of the new ones are worth a try?”

“Well,” she muttered as she turned to look at the board. “The caramel cold brew would probably be something you’d like. It’s nice and sweet.”

“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll take a medium.”

“Sure,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

She rang me up and then wrote my name on my cup before I wandered off in search of a table. I found one in a corner that included an outlet and a chair that looked like something I could sit in without losing sensation in my legs. I had just slipped out of my suit jacket and hung it on the back of the chair when the blue-haired barista walked my drink over to me.

“I hope you like it,” she said as she set the beverage down.

“I’m sure I will,” I said while I took my seat.

I took a sip of my caramel cold brew before I pulled out my laptop and almost groaned as the sweet caffeinated coffee rolled over my tongue. It was strong enough to wash away the remains of sleepiness after another sip, and I finally felt prepared for the research that laid ahead of me.

My stomach growled as soon as my laptop reached the login screen, and I glanced around at the few other patrons in the cafe to make sure no one had heard. But the hipster crowd was distracted with their own work, so I left my stuff on the table and made my way back to the counter.

“Back so soon?” the young woman teased as she looked up from her phone.

“Forgot breakfast,” I said with an apologetic smile.

“Ah,” she nodded her head. “The apple caramel turnovers are fresh. Unless you want something with a little more substance?”

“The turnover will be a good start,” I said.

“Great,” she put one of the pastries on a plate and then handed it to me after I swiped my card. “Here you go. Did you try the cold brew?”

“It’s amazing,” I confirmed. “I’ll probably grab another one before I leave.”

“I’ll be here,” she shrugged.

I bobbed my head and then