situation is hopeless, and circumstances are rarely as desperate as they might be perceived. Whatever trouble you’re in, don’t let panic and fear haze your thinking.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I think I do,” he rushed to assure her. “I see it every day. Honest, hardworking people finding themselves in dire straits. And this unfamiliar territory throws them. They grasp at help from the first source that comes to mind.”
“But—”
“Just like that old adage warning that only a fool acts as his own lawyer, it’s also foolish to choose an attorney in haste. You and I have a past, Tyne, and even though all of that took place years and years ago, the fact remains that we have a history. I don’t believe I would be the best person to represent you in a court of law. You need someone who’ll be totally unbiased. Let me give you some names. I’ll make some calls for you myself—”
“Stop!” She lifted her hands and scooted to the edge of the seat. “You don’t understand. And I can’t make you understand if you won’t shut up for a minute.”
His eyebrows arched and the frustration in her statement had him leaning back a bit.
She frowned. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I had to stew all day yesterday.” She fisted her hands in her lap. “I didn’t expect to reach anyone on a Sunday, but do you know that your firm doesn’t offer an emergency number on the answering machine?” She exhaled with force. “I’m a nervous wreck just being here. Seeing you. But all that aside, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Please accept my apology.”
He didn’t react, didn’t move. He just waited for her to continue.
“The thing is…what you need te ft you no know…”
Once again, she grew terribly cautious, and Lucas found that extremely curious. What the hell was it she found so hard to tell him? What kind of trouble was she in?
She blanched, but then her spine straightened. “I’m not the one who needs a lawyer. I want to hire you, yes. But I’m not the one needing representation. It’s my son who’s in trouble.” A nerve at the corner of her eye ticked, but her gaze never veered from his as she added, “ Our son, Lucas.”
CHAPTER THREE
I t was rumored that Judge Marvin Taylor ate a pound of ten-penny nails for lunch every day—right after putting the hammer to at least a half-dozen delinquent teens every morning.
Because he specialized in corporate law, Lucas had minimal experience representing minors, and those cases had been forced on him when kids of clients had wound up in trouble. Shannon Reeves was a good case-in-point. In every instance, though, he’d been successful in having the charges reduced or dismissed simply by finding the right words to say to the right people in the DA’s office and by talking to the judge. However, the judge presiding over Zach’s case had refused his calls. The man wouldn’t even talk with Lucas about the charges his son was facing.
His son . The phrase made Lucas’s gut clench, and he turned his head to glance for what felt like the hundredth time at the grim teen seated next to him at the defense table. There was no denying the kid was his.
Lucas faced forward when the gavel struck wood.
“No, Mr. Hawk, I will not meet with you in chambers. I like to do business out in the open. Where everyone can hear and know what’s going on.” The Honorable Judge Taylor peered over his eyeglasses directly at Zach. “I do like for people to understand exactly what’s happening and why.” He pulled off his glasses, took a moment to buff them on his sleeve, and then perched them back on his nose as he returned his attention to Lucas. “There’s nothing you could say to me in there, Counselor, that can’t be said out here.”
So the man wasn’t only hard-hearted, he was also a jackass. Lucas stood. “May I at least approach the bench?”
It was a desk, really. The Juvenile Courtrooms were small, almost intimate, as public audiences were
“You don’t understand.”
“I think I do,” he rushed to assure her. “I see it every day. Honest, hardworking people finding themselves in dire straits. And this unfamiliar territory throws them. They grasp at help from the first source that comes to mind.”
“But—”
“Just like that old adage warning that only a fool acts as his own lawyer, it’s also foolish to choose an attorney in haste. You and I have a past, Tyne, and even though all of that took place years and years ago, the fact remains that we have a history. I don’t believe I would be the best person to represent you in a court of law. You need someone who’ll be totally unbiased. Let me give you some names. I’ll make some calls for you myself—”
“Stop!” She lifted her hands and scooted to the edge of the seat. “You don’t understand. And I can’t make you understand if you won’t shut up for a minute.”
His eyebrows arched and the frustration in her statement had him leaning back a bit.
She frowned. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I had to stew all day yesterday.” She fisted her hands in her lap. “I didn’t expect to reach anyone on a Sunday, but do you know that your firm doesn’t offer an emergency number on the answering machine?” She exhaled with force. “I’m a nervous wreck just being here. Seeing you. But all that aside, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Please accept my apology.”
He didn’t react, didn’t move. He just waited for her to continue.
“The thing is…what you need te ft you no know…”
Once again, she grew terribly cautious, and Lucas found that extremely curious. What the hell was it she found so hard to tell him? What kind of trouble was she in?
She blanched, but then her spine straightened. “I’m not the one who needs a lawyer. I want to hire you, yes. But I’m not the one needing representation. It’s my son who’s in trouble.” A nerve at the corner of her eye ticked, but her gaze never veered from his as she added, “ Our son, Lucas.”
CHAPTER THREE
I t was rumored that Judge Marvin Taylor ate a pound of ten-penny nails for lunch every day—right after putting the hammer to at least a half-dozen delinquent teens every morning.
Because he specialized in corporate law, Lucas had minimal experience representing minors, and those cases had been forced on him when kids of clients had wound up in trouble. Shannon Reeves was a good case-in-point. In every instance, though, he’d been successful in having the charges reduced or dismissed simply by finding the right words to say to the right people in the DA’s office and by talking to the judge. However, the judge presiding over Zach’s case had refused his calls. The man wouldn’t even talk with Lucas about the charges his son was facing.
His son . The phrase made Lucas’s gut clench, and he turned his head to glance for what felt like the hundredth time at the grim teen seated next to him at the defense table. There was no denying the kid was his.
Lucas faced forward when the gavel struck wood.
“No, Mr. Hawk, I will not meet with you in chambers. I like to do business out in the open. Where everyone can hear and know what’s going on.” The Honorable Judge Taylor peered over his eyeglasses directly at Zach. “I do like for people to understand exactly what’s happening and why.” He pulled off his glasses, took a moment to buff them on his sleeve, and then perched them back on his nose as he returned his attention to Lucas. “There’s nothing you could say to me in there, Counselor, that can’t be said out here.”
So the man wasn’t only hard-hearted, he was also a jackass. Lucas stood. “May I at least approach the bench?”
It was a desk, really. The Juvenile Courtrooms were small, almost intimate, as public audiences were
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