The Defender

Why were they even discussing this? “I see your point. It doesn’t matter, though. Russ Voight is off-limits. He’s working a case involving a client. And, unlike my pig of a brother, who got involved with you while working your case, I’m not doing it. Uh-uh.”

Emma laughed. “You know he’s not a pig. You just say that to get him riled.”

Penny did a fast clap. “I know. It’s such fun.”

Zac swung into the room. “What’s fun?”

“Nothing,” they both said.

He eyeballed them. “You’re talking about me again?”

“We are,” Penny said.

For what might be the thousandth time since Zac began seeing Emma, he threw his arms up. He didn’t like his girlfriend talking to his sister about him. Too bad, big brother. “Relax. Is Russ gone?”

“Yeah. He seems like a good guy. Some of those feds are cocky SOBs.”

“He’s good. I destroyed him on the stand a few months back and he still talks to me. Heck, he saved my life today. Some of the guys I’ve gone against probably keep a bullet with my name on it.”

Her brother poked his finger at her. “Exactly why you need to follow Voight’s instructions and lay low.”

She didn’t want to believe her father had been the target of a shooting. Could someone hate them that much?

American citizens deserved to have their constitutional rights protected and that was her job. Invariably upon meeting someone, she’d be asked what was known by defense attorneys as the “cocktail party question.” The old “How can you defend them?” and nothing provoked Penny like that blasted question. For her it was about judgment, and implying that being a defense lawyer was somehow less worthy than being a prosecutor. As if she took joy in defending a man accused of murder. In truth, many nights she lost sleep over it.

Reality was she couldn’t resist the job. Call her a masochist but she loved the unwinnable case. Loved the inevitable problems and the intellectual challenge.

The war.

“This may shock you, Zachary, but I will follow his advice. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. Still, the idea that Dad was targeted because he defended someone’s rights seems hypocritical. Not that I understand the criminal mind.”

“Amen to that,” Zac said. He rapped his knuckle on the door. “Get packed up. I’m hungry and I’m tired.”

“A deadly combination,” Emma deadpanned.

Zac threw her the king of hairy eyeballs. Oh, boy. Knowing just how crabby her brother could be when his sugar crashed, Penny closed her laptop, unplugged it and shoved it into her messenger bag. “Don’t fight. Please. I’ve had enough conflict for one day. I mean, seriously, it’s not every day someone tries to kill me.”

Chapter Three

Russ badged his way into Gerald Hennings’s office, parked in one of the guest chairs and waited for him to get off the phone. It was 10:00 a.m. and the day had already gone to hell. As of 7:43 a.m., after surviving a surgery that would have killed most, the reporter who’d been shot on the courthouse steps was no longer among the living.

This development had Russ reprioritizing his caseload just when he’d gotten traction on Heath. He wanted to nail that guy and send him away for a good long time.

For years, Russ had been chasing guys like Heath, guys who would rob senior citizens and hardworking people of their life’s savings. His own parents had been victimized by a mortgage scammer, and from the day his childhood home had been foreclosed on, Russ let his hurt and anger fuel him on the job. On the days he got sick of the lowlifes, he thought of the morning, at age twelve, he’d stood on the front lawn watching his father turn over the keys to their home. A sight like that didn’t leave a man.

Ever.

Hennings set his phone in the cradle and relaxed back in his chair. Fit for a man his age, he was legendary in Chicago for his pristine appearance. Rarely had his expertly cut salt-and-pepper hair been seen out of place. Add to that his custom shirts and flashy suspenders, and reporters all over the city now referred to him as Dapper DL, short for Dapper Defense Lawyer.

“Good morning, Agent Voight.”

Russ leaned over the desk and shook his hand. “Morning, sir.”

“You have an update for me?”

“I do. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but the reporter involved in the shooting died this morning.”

“I did hear that. Tragedy. We’ll send our condolences.” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand what drives someone to do this.”

Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t defend these monsters. That was another conversation, though. Right now he had news and, figuring Gerald Hennings liked his bad news brief and to the point, he dived in. “I’m not at liberty to give you details, but we’ve seen enough evidence to suggest you may have been the target of the shooting yesterday.”

To the man’s credit, he didn’t react. His face remained neutral. No raised eyebrows, no frown, not even a blink. Russ supposed years of defending scumbags had honed his body-language skills.

“I see,” he said. “And you’re sure it was me? Not Penny?”

That, Russ couldn’t say. “We’re not a hundred percent. You and Penny were in close proximity to the shooting and reporters generally aren’t targeted that often. With the location involved, there is likely a bigger issue as opposed to a random shooting.”

Hennings finally gave him some body language and rolled his bottom lip out. “Something tells me that’s not the only reason you’re here.”

Smart man. Russ nodded. “We’re arranging protection for you, Penny and Zac.”

“You think that’s necessary?”

“We’d rather play it safe while we’re investigating. You can expect more questioning today, and we’re coordinating with the U.S. Marshals to get you protection.”

If the man had any issues with the plan, he gave no indication of it. Too bad he was a defense lawyer. He’d make a damned fine FBI agent.

“I appreciate that,” Hennings said. “When can we expect someone? I need to tell Zac. And my daughter.”

Lucky him. “It’ll be today.”

“Good.” He propped his elbows on the desk, ran both hands over his perfect, albeit thinning, styled hair, then cracked a smile. “Would it be considered bribing an officer if I paid you a hundred dollars to tell Penny?”

And damn if he didn’t like this guy. “You’re apprehensive about the protection?”

“No. I’m apprehensive about telling my stubborn daughter a marshal will be tagging along wherever she goes. You’d better find someone with stamina. She’ll debate everything.”

Don’t I know it? Then again, an assignment like this, minus the hundred bucks, might be one Russ could cherish. He’d hold this sucker in his heart for the rest of his life.

“Sir, five months ago, your daughter subjected me to the most brutal cross-examination I have ever endured. She whipped me so hard I’m still bleeding.”

Hennings’s smile went full-blown. Clearly the man adored his daughter. “I taught her well.”

“You did. Which I should be ticked at you about, but I’m going to help you out here. You keep your hundred bucks, because after that beating she put me through, I’d love nothing more than to tell her that when it comes to her safety, she’ll have to do exactly what I say. That will be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

* * *

PENNY HUSTLED ACROSS the flooded Chicago street barely beating the walk signal and almost getting plastered by a cabbie who’d obviously had too much caffeine.