Copyright © 2023 by Robin James
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
“You’ll never make it,” Miranda said.
“I’ll make it,” I countered, my fingers clacking across the keyboard. One more paragraph and the thing would be done. Not my best piece of writing, but it got the point across.
“You missed a space.” Miranda stood over my shoulder. “Right there. After the wherefore.”
I made the correction and hit print.
“You’re gonna lose,” Miranda said, hustling over to the printer in the other room. She shook her head with disapproval as she gathered each sheet of paper when they spit out of the front of the machine.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said. “How much time do I have?”
“Not enough,” she answered. “You’re due in Judge Castor’s courtroom at 9:00 a.m. and Judge Wentz’s courtroom on the Spitzer hearing at 9:15.”
“How do you expect me to be in two places at once?”
“You’ll work it out. Just check in with Nancy. She’ll go up and stall Judge Wentz.”
Miranda stapled my brief with gusto.
“My bag?”
“On the step.”
I grabbed my well-worn, leather messenger bag and heaved it over my shoulder. Before I could put a hand out, Miranda swooped in and tucked my brief in the outside pocket.
“Your jacket,” she said. She took my black blazer off the chair and held it out so I could slip my arms in it.
“I need my…”
“Coffee,” she said, handing me my silver insulated mug.
“Where’d I put my…”
“Keys,” she said, dangling them in front of me. Smiling, I took them from her.
“Thanks.”
“Your breakfast,” she said.
“No time.”
She gave me no choice. As I headed for the back door, Miranda grabbed a glazed donut off the plate on the counter and stuffed it in my mouth.
“Fanks,” I mumbled while chewing.
“You can’t keep going like this,” she said.
“No choice.”
“Come back here straight after. I’ll order your lunch.”
“No time,” I mumbled as I pushed my way through the door.
“Make time or I’ll come find you!” I waved behind me as I slid behind the wheel and peeled out of my parking spot. It was 8:53 a.m. Seven minutes to be late in two different courtrooms.
It was Monday morning. I knew my week would only go downhill from there.
Two minutes racing down First Street. My tires squealed as I made the hard turn into the courthouse parking lot. It earned me a death stare from Ernie, the attendant. I gave him a sheepish expression and a wave.
“Park in the sheriff’s spot,” he called out. “Then throw me your keys!”
“I love you!” I yelled. Ernie just saved me a precious three minutes. I pulled into the spot, then tossed my keys underhanded in a high arc. Ernie palmed them and shot me a wink. Then I ran as fast as I could in heels.
“All rise!”
I barely made it into Judge Felix Castor’s courtroom. My newly printed counter-motion and brief in response was still warm in my hands as I slapped a copy on Rafe Johnson’s table and walked the Judge’s copy up to his clerk. She glared at me, stamped it, then put it on Judge Castor’s bench just as he walked in from chambers.
“You’re cutting it too close, Ms. Leary,” Judge Castor said.
“Your Honor,” Rafe said. “I haven’t even had a chance to look at Ms. Leary’s brief in response.”
“Then you should have served your motion on me in a timely fashion,” I said. “I only got it the day before yesterday. I’m doing the best that I can.”
Judge Castor stared at Rafe down the barrel of his reading glasses. He picked up my responsive brief and scanned it.
“Your Honor,” I said. “In light of the untimeliness of the State’s motion, and in order to give this Court a proper amount of time to review my countermotion and response, I respectfully ask for a continuance on this matter.”
“You’ve had three of those already,” Castor said. “Mr. Johnson, Ms. Leary’s point is well taken in one regard. You know better than to file an evidentiary motion like this at the eleventh hour. We’re in trial next week. Your motions were due four weeks ago.”
“Your Honor, some new evidence has come to light. It was beyond my control.”
“Be that as it may, I’ve cleared my docket. We’re going to trial next week. Period. Ms. Leary, no more continuances.”
The doors opened. Nancy Oleson, the circuit court clerk poked her head in. She gave me a wide eyed, impatient look. Judge Wentz was waiting for me two floors up in Probate Court. He had a lethal reputation for sanctioning attorneys who kept him waiting. He also didn’t tend to like me very much in general. It’s why I avoided Probate Court at all costs. Only now, with Tori, my associate still in the hospital, and Jeanie, my partner recovering from hip surgery, I was a one-man band for the near future. The rate things were going, the Leary Law Group was in danger of sinking. That is, if I could make it out of this courthouse today without getting slapped with contempt charges.
“Jane,” Judge Castor said to his clerk. “What’s my docket look like this afternoon?” I tried to check my watch without being obvious about it. It was 9:17. Wentz’s hearing started two minutes ago.
Nancy came up behind me. “Judge Wentz’s about to rule on your petition, Cass. His clerk, Mindy sent me down to find you.”
“I’m dancing as fast as I can, Nancy,” I whispered through gritted teeth.
“Judge,” Jane the clerk said. “You’ve got a sentencing hearing at eleven thirty. A settlement conference at one thirty on the Walling matter.”
“Fine,” Castor said. “I expect both of you back here at 12:45. Ms. Leary, if you’re even a second late, I’m granting Mr. Johnson’s motion and assessing costs on your side.”
I still hadn’t unclenched my jaw. There were about five reasons why he couldn’t do that. But I’d take my small victories where I could.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said, gathering my things. I shot Rafe a look. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Then I walked out right behind Nancy.
“How angry is Judge Wentz?” I asked.
“Scale of one to ten? I’d say a solid six. But he idles at five so there’s that.”
“He’s still holding my DNA against me?” I said as we headed for the stairs together. No point waiting for the ancient elevators in the Woodbridge County Courthouse.
“He’s a snob,” she said. “But he’s fair when it comes down to it. Still, when’s Tori coming back?”
“I don’t know.” There was more I couldn’t say. I didn’t know for sure whether Tori would ever be able to come back like she was. She had suffered a closed head injury in a nasty car accident eight weeks ago. She had a long road ahead of her. She struggled with short term memory loss and brain fog that might never go away. But she was young. Strong. And she had something special to fight for. She and my brother Matty had given birth to a baby. Born a preemie, he was now a beautiful, healthy boy named Sean, after Tori’s late father. And he was coming home from the hospital.
“Soon, I hope,” I said.
“Good,” Nancy said as she pushed the third floor door open. “Though…when she and Matty tie the knot, she might want to keep her maiden name at least professionally. You know. For Judge Wentz’s sake.”
I couldn’t tell whether Nancy was kidding or not. I didn’t get the chance to ask. The courtroom doors swung open and Judge Wentz’s bailiff confronted me.
“She’s right here, Your Honor!” he bellowed. “Good luck,” Nancy whispered. “You’re gonna need it, honey.”
Finding my biggest smile, I stepped into the lion’s den of Judge Michael Wentz’s courtroom pretending I wasn’t wearing meat underwear.
***
One hour later, I was still sweating when I came back out. It wasn’t pretty. Judge Wentz spent almost ten minutes lecturing me on punctuality, legal ethics, the state of the economy and my various other shortcomings. But in the end, he granted my…rather…Tori’s motion to approve the Louis estate’s final accounting. There had never been any doubt that he would. The man just wanted me to suffer for it for sport. Fine. I played the game.
As I headed back down the hall, I got a text from Miranda. She reminded me of two client meetings I had later this afternoon. One, a potentially lucrative personal injury matter. The other, a new divorce client. A friend of Jeanie’s. If she felt up to it, she was supposed to sit in. Both were matters the firm sorely needed if we were going to make payroll for the quarter. We’d burned through our last big retainer far faster than I hoped and with Tori down, I’d had to turn work away.
“Don’t forget,” Nancy said. The woman just seemed to materialize out of thin air, startling me. “Judge Castor wants you at 12:45.”
“Right,” I said. I texted Jeanie back, asking her to shuffle all my other appointments back an hour. She answered with an angry face emoji.
“Also,” Nancy said. “There’s someone looking for you. I told her where to find your office, but once she realized you were here in court, she said she wanted to wait. She’s sitting on the bench next to my desk.”
“A litigant?” I asked as we made our way back downstairs.
Nancy didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed me to the bench against the wall. A young woman sat there. Early thirties, maybe. She had dark hair and a pleasant, round face. She rose when she saw me, clutching her purse against her stomach.
“You’re Cass Leary?” she asked.
“She is indeed,” Nancy answered for me. She gave me one last smile and left me.
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” she said. “I’m Zoe. Zoe Paul. I heard…well…everyone says you’re the best.”
“Ms. Paul, I’m flattered. But I’m due in another courtroom soon. Would you like to make an appointment? I’ll give you my card.” I rifled through the outside compartment of my bag.
Zoe Paul rushed toward me. She looked like she was about to fall over.
“Maybe we should sit down,” I said. She did, sinking back to the bench. I retrieved my card and handed it to her. She had an envelope in her hand. With shaking fingers she held it out to me.
“I don’t know what to do with this,” she said. “And they told me you’re the best.”
Puzzled, I took the envelope from her. It wasn’t sealed. One end had already been torn open. Zoe nodded as I tilted the envelope and let its contents fall out into my other hand.
The paper was old. Yellowing. But it was an uncashed cashier’s check dated over sixteen years ago. I read the amount and my eyes popped. It was written for two million dollars.
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