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

“I don’t do the drugs,” my client huffed as he rolled his dark-brown eyes. “I’m not one of those idiot users who deal on the side. I’m a professional.”

“Of course,” I said as I nodded. “What does your… job… have to do with the bar fight?”

“One of my kids didn’t get paid for his product,” Michael explained.

“Don’t they usually accept payment when they give them the product?” I asked.

I jotted down a few notes for myself, just a word or two that wouldn’t make sense to anyone who might come across them, but that would jog my memory when I read them.

“They do,” the muscular man said with a deep frown. “But the guy had a party going on. He paid most of it before and was supposed to pay the rest later.”

“Okay,” I mumbled. “And the gentleman at the bar was the one with the debt?”

“Yeah,” my client said. “He was a regular so it wasn’t a big deal. But when my kid followed up with him, the guy had hung up on him, so he’d called me to make sure that I knew.”

“What happened after that?” I asked.

“Well, the boss frowns on people not paying their tab,” Michael said with a shrug. “So I called around and found out he was at one of the neighborhood bars.”

“A place that has appeared on your rap sheet a few times,” I mentioned.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “I’ve been there a few times so I knew exactly where it was.”

“Right,” I nodded and waited for him to continue.

“And when I asked him when he planned on settling up, he decided to square up instead,” the red-bearded man rolled his shoulders as he remembered the fight. “Anyways, he hit me in the jaw. And before he could swing again I punched him square in the chest.”

“The chest?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “He left himself wide open.”

“He ended up in the hospital,” I reminded him.

“Apparently I broke a rib, and it may have grazed his lungs,” Michael muttered. “He was rushed out in an ambulance, but he’s fine now.”

“And he’s not pressing charges,” I added. “Neither is the bartender.”

“The boss’ second paid him a visit,” my client said. “Made him rethink his life choices.”

I shivered as I remembered the way Alvaro had looked at me the last time I’d seen him, the coldness in his almost black eyes, and the deadly efficiency with which he moved. If he’d visited me with orders to change my mind, then I was pretty sure I’d drop any charges, too, and I’d pay whatever he wanted just to get him away from me.

“That does make sense,” I muttered. “Alright. I think I have a plan for your case. With your criminal record you’ll serve time. But I think I might be able to weedle it down to thirty days. You’ll have to stay out of bars and fights until after the trial.”

“You can get me down to thirty days?” the red-bearded man gasped. “Even with my record?”

“Well, there are witnesses,” I explained. “They confirmed that you struck him, and he went down, but they also said he swung at you first. It was self-defense. I still can’t have it thrown out entirely, though, because he ended up in the hospital.”

“Right,” Michael said as he nodded his head, clearly impressed.

“Make sure you keep your nose clean until the deal is finalized,” I warned him.

“I guess I can let someone else handle the enforcing,” he grumbled.

“Sure,” I said while I put my pad and pen back in my briefcase and stood. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“Thanks,” the tattooed man said as he walked me out.

“No problem,” I grinned at him.

My walk back to the car was torture with the afternoon sun beating down on me even for the short jaunt back to my Honda. I couldn’t wait until I was once again in air conditioning, and I turned on the car even before I slid into the front seat.

The phone started to ring as soon as I shut the door behind me, and I had to twist in the seat so that I could reach it before it went to voicemail.

“This is Rob Torres,” I answered.

It was an unknown number, but I wasn’t sure what number Alvaro would call me from.

“Jipato,” Osvaldo said.

My whole body froze as I heard my employer’s gruff, angry voice on the other end of the line.

“Mr. Fuentes,” I responded while I fought to keep my breathing study.

“Do you have a status update?” he asked, and I could almost see the scowl on his face with the deep scar that was etched into his cheek.

“I have filed an appeal,” I answered as I wiped my hands on my jeans.

“How long is my boy going to be rotting in that juvenile detention center?” he questioned in a deceptively calm voice that had an undertone of rage.

“I’ve been doing some research, and I think that I can have him released,” I hedged. “These things take time.”

There was a long silence from the other end of the line. I checked my cell phone to make sure I hadn’t lost the call, but the time still ticked away to show that my employer was still there.

“How much time do you think you have?” Osvaldo asked before he hung up and left me to wonder what the answer was.

Chapter 10

I stared ahead until my car began to whine from the constant idling. The heavy purr of the engine brought me back to the moment and out of the images of Alvaro as he dragged my corpse through the marshy Everglades. I shook my head and then tossed my cell phone into the passenger’s seat so that it was as far away from me as