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

I hadn’t even seen her take it because I’d been so focused on Eloa and the future I could see unfolding for her, but I recovered from my shock fast enough to give the server a smile before she hurried off to a table that had signaled they needed her.

“I’m glad that we’re so close to getting my client out of that place,” I told the beautiful woman as we stood to leave. “No one should have to be there.”

“I wish I had an excuse to go in,” the reporter said with a sigh as she slipped her messenger bag onto her shoulder. “I could sneak some pictures. The only ones we have right now are from the kids that are inside. And they have to be careful not to get caught so all of the pictures are blurry.”

“Maybe you could connect with an inspector,” I suggested while we weaved through the tables.

“I’ve tried,” she huffed. “No one will give me any information. They say it’s a security breach.”

She rolled her honey-brown eyes as we walked across the parking lot toward her car. Her hips swayed with every step, and I was mesmerized by the way the skirt of her dress bounced against her well-toned thighs.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” I said as I tried not to think of the kiss we’d shared the last time we said goodbye.

A breeze wafted around us and the subtle scent of gardenias and honey from her perfume filled the air around me as she pulled her keys from her bag and unlocked her car.

“I had a really good night,” the alluring woman said as she looked up at me.

“I did, too,” I said with a grin while I opened the door for her. “We make a great team.”

“We do,” she said with a nod. “I guess I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“Let me know when you’re home safe,” I told her as she slid into the driver’s seat.

“Okay,” the gorgeous woman flashed me another thousand kilowatt smile as she shut the door and started the car.

I waved as she drove away, and then shook my head as I forced my brain to restart. I thought about the way her dress had hugged her ample breasts and the swell of her buttocks underneath the skirt of her dress as I got into my own car.

She was a stunning woman with curves that wouldn’t quit, and muscular legs that she accentuated with bouncy skirts. She had worn a wine-red lipstick that had lasted through dinner, and I imagined what they would taste like as I pulled onto the highway.

I should’ve invited her over when I saw her hesitate before she’d gotten into her car, and I had known then that she’d wanted to come home with me. I didn’t have to know exactly where we were going with our friendship, and we still had plenty of research to distract ourselves with if she decided she didn’t want to pursue anything physical once she was at my apartment.

The traffic had thinned out once I exited the highway, so I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and searched for Eloa’s number. I’d just found it when red and blue lights started flashing behind me. I glanced into my rearview mirror to see a Miami Police Department cruiser right behind me.

I pulled off into an open parking lot with tall street lights that illuminated the few cars that were scattered around the rectangle of asphalt. I put my old Honda in park, turned it off after I rolled the window down, and then reached over to pull out my driver’s license, insurance card, and registration.

“Do you know why I pulled you over today?” the police officer asked as he sidled up to my window.

He had one hand casually resting on his gun while the other reached forward to take my information. He was only a little taller than my car, but what he lacked in height he made up for in the massive muscles that threatened to rip the sleeves of his uniform.

“I don’t,” I confessed as I looked up at him.

“Texting and driving is a dangerous crime,” he responded. “As a lawyer you should know better.

A pulse of fear raced through me. My information didn’t have my profession listed obviously, and there was only one way he would know that I was a lawyer. He must have been sent by someone to pull me over. I doubted it would be Osvaldo, but I couldn’t completely rule out my employer, either.

“I was going to make a call,” I managed to say despite my suddenly thick tongue.

“Mmmhmm,” the officer said as he handed my license and paperwork back to me. “I think you need to learn to leave well enough alone, Mr. Torres.”

“Excuse me?” I asked while I stuffed my driver’s license back into my wallet and ignored my racing pulse.

“Some families are just bad,” he said while he leaned down to rest one arm on my open window.

His other hand was still on his gun, and I glanced around the parking lot in hopes that there was a camera that was recording the interaction. I found one that was pointed our way, and I made a point of putting my hands on the steering wheel so if something happened, the officer wouldn’t be able to say I’d reached for a gun.

“And those families just make bad kids,” the cop continued with a small shrug. “Those kids might deserve the places they find themselves.”

“Alright,” I said with a small nod.

“I’m glad you understand,” the officer said as he reached a beefy hand in to pat me on the shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna be generous and let you off with a warning this time. But word of