The Lawyer's Lawyer (19 page)

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Authors: James Sheehan

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F
elton finally showed up on a Sunday morning, debunking the predictions of all three of his antagonists who were sure it was
going to be a nighttime assault.

Jack had already made his early morning run and had been back at the pup tent for about an hour. He’d lain down for a short
nap and for some reason, he could never say why, he woke up and immediately stood up to look at Danni’s backyard. He saw a
figure dressed in black from head to toe enter the woods
from the backyard!

Oh my God
—Danni!
he thought.
He’s coming back from her house. What the hell has he done to her? I’ve got to go to her.

He wasn’t even sure it was Felton but he had a way to find out. Jack had Felton’s number in his phone since Felton had called
him at the condo to tell him that he no longer wanted to file the claims bill.
Two nights ago
Jack had called the number to see if Felton still had the phone. Somebody answered but didn’t speak.

“Tom, are you there? This is Jack.”

Felton never did say a word but Jack got the information he needed. He knew how to contact Felton.

Now, as he stood in his bunker paralyzed with fear, wondering what Felton had done to Danni, wondering whether the man in
black was even Felton, wondering what he was going to do—go after Felton or go to Danni—he decided to call the number. He
pressed Felton’s name in his cell phone directory and watched the man who was now in the woods moving slowly toward the road.
He was maybe a hundred yards away from the bunker now. Jack didn’t hear a ring, but he saw the man first look toward his right
pants pocket then reach his hand in and pull out a phone and look at it. He didn’t answer it; he didn’t need to.

Jack had his man and he made his decision in that instant. Whatever happened to Danni had already happened. This might be
his only chance to capture Felton. He sprang from his foxhole, taking one last look toward the house.
I’ll be there as soon as I can
, he thought to himself and took off after Felton, the Sig Sauer in his right hand. He closed the gap rather quickly since
Felton wasn’t running. When he was within fifty feet or so and had an unobstructed view of the man, Jack raised the gun and
called out.

“Tom, this is Jack Tobin. I want you to stop.”

Jack continued to move forward slowly, his gun aimed at the target. Felton looked back once, saw the gun and saw Jack coming
and started to slow down. For a moment, Jack thought he was going to give himself up. Then Felton suddenly wheeled around,
and Jack saw something in his hand—it looked like a small gun.

“Don’t do it, Tom.”

Felton raised his arm. Jack had no idea if he was preparing to fire or not. He had to make a split-second decision. He fired
the Sig Sauer. Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. The bullet hit Felton in the chest. He knew it because
Felton fell straight back, his legs and feet flying in the air. He lay motionless on the ground. Jack did not move toward
him, though. Once the crisis was over and Felton was down, his attention immediately turned to Danni.

He ran in the opposite direction toward the backyard and Danni’s house. He saw her in his mind as she had stood in the kitchen
just two days before, smiling at him and telling him to be careful and stay awake. He finally reached the back door. It seemed
as if it took an eternity to get there. The door was locked.

“Danni, Danni!” he yelled as he banged.

When nobody answered, he took the heel of the gun and prepared to break the closest window. Just as he was about to swing
his arm, the door opened and Danni stepped out.

“What’s going on, Jack? I was sleeping and thought I heard a gunshot. Are you okay?”

Jack’s face broke into the biggest smile.

“I couldn’t be better now that I see you standing there.”

“Was that a gunshot I heard?”

“Yeah. It was Felton. I shot him. I thought he was leaving your house. He’s in the woods out there.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know. I came to see about you.”

“Don’t tell me you left him there without making sure he was dead.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere,” Jack said.

“Wait here. I’m going to go get my gun,” she said as she retreated back into the house.

 

It was ten o’clock on Sunday morning when Sam Jeffries started into the woods to do his first walkabout of the day. Normally
he was out earlier, but he’d had a few too many the night before and decided to sleep in. His walks into the woods were getting
to be a routine and Sam was focused on negotiating through the trees and the brush rather than doing any observational investigative
work. Then he heard voices and a shot directly ahead. Sam took off like the high-school running back he had once been. Branches
were scratching his face and his body as he ran along but he hardly noticed. Felton was out there and Felton had killed his
wife and daughter. He was so focused that he almost tripped over Felton’s body, stopping at the last minute. Felton was lying
on his back. Sam could see blood flowing from a bullet hole almost dead center in his chest. The face was untouched, but it
was bearded and filthy and it took Sam a few minutes to realize who it was.

“Shit!” he said aloud to the trees and the wind. He was too late. Felton was dead. He’d been robbed of the opportunity to
kill the man who had murdered his wife and daughter.
Danni had to be the one who did this. But where is she?
First things first. He called the station and made his report. He wanted a forensic team out there on the double along with a team of homicide detectives. Now that Felton was dead, he wanted to make sure his department handled everything
efficiently.

After he made the call, he started looking at the scene and the surrounding terrain in greater detail. He removed a small
pair of binoculars from his pants pocket and focused them on Danni’s backyard. If Danni had done the killing, as he suspected,
why had she left the scene? He caught a glimpse of someone banging on Danni’s door. It was a man, a fairly tall man, with
speckled gray hair.

Who is that?
he asked himself, unable to pinpoint the man’s identity through the small field glasses.
Maybe he
’s the shooter.
Then he saw the man take something out of his pants pocket—it looked like a gun, but he couldn’t be sure—and reach his arm
back as if he were going to break one of the back windows. Just then Danni came out of the house and started talking to the
man.
She knows him!
Sam said to himself.
Who the fuck is it?

He could have continued to watch them, or even better, he could have walked toward them and maybe gotten some answers, but
he decided against it. His people would be there soon and he wanted to do his own investigation before they arrived. Danni
and her friend weren’t going to get far in the next few minutes. Besides, he couldn’t have chased them if he’d wanted to.
The old tank was empty.

He hesitated to move the body but he saw that Felton had a small backpack on. Putting his rubber gloves on first, he rolled
Felton over rather easily and opened the backpack. Inside were some clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some papers.
Nice to know a serial killer brushes his teeth
, Sam thought. He perused the papers. One set was a document called a claims bill that had a lot of legal language in it and
another set was a document called a contingency fee agreement. Sam scanned them quickly. The claims bill was basically a request
by Felton for twenty million dollars from the Florida legislature for his wrongful incarceration. The contingency fee agreement
was an agreement to give Jack Tobin one-third of whatever he got from the legislature on the claims bill.

So that’s how Tobin does it
, he thought to himself.
He puts himself out to the public as this great human being, and then he makes his money on the back end if he’s successful.
What a slimy son of a bitch.
Then he started laughing to himself thinking about all the money Tobin had lost when Felton killed again. It was a morbid
laugh since Felton’s victim had been his own daughter.
Serves the prick right. He makes his money getting maggots like this set free, it’s only fair that he should get fucked good
once in a while. He probably wanted to kill Felton himself. Too late, Tobin, Danni beat you to it.

Wait a minute!
Now he knew who the tall man was who had been banging on Danni’s door.
Tobin!
He started putting the pieces together.
Tobin killed Felton. Danni never would have left the scene.

Jeffries made his other big discovery while he was kneeling on the ground stuffing the papers back into the knapsack. There
was a gun in the grass right next to Felton’s right hand. He picked it up, careful not to smudge any fingerprints that might
be on the handle, and looked it over. It was a small 22 caliber Ruger.
Almost missed it
, Sam thought to himself.
Must be slipping.

He didn’t realize how much he had slipped until he heard the moan. He looked down at the body and saw Felton make a jerking
motion with his head and right arm. He’d never checked for a pulse! He looked up at the blue sky leaking through the tall
pines. “Thank you, God,” he whispered.

Felton moaned again. He opened his eyes and looked at Sam, apparently not focusing too well. “Help me,” he whispered to the
man whose daughter and wife he had so brutally murdered.

Sam grabbed his head and jerked it toward him so that his face and Felton’s were almost touching. “Look at me, fuckface! You
killed my wife and daughter. You’re asking the wrong person for help.”

Felton did look at him. Sam could see the recognition in his eyes—the fear. He was so thankful for this moment.

“I had to,” Felton whispered. “No control.”

“Well then, you’ll understand what I have to do—for my wife, my daughter, and all those other people you murdered—you piece
of shit. I only wish I had more time.”

There was a good-sized rock off to Sam’s right. He reached for it and slid it in place under Felton’s head.

“I hope this hurts real bad,” he said just before he smashed the man’s head on the rock over and over again. Blood oozed out
and started leeching into the dirt and the grass, and the little life that had been there clearly left Felton’s body. Still,
Sam didn’t stop until he heard the sirens in the distance—and something else: leaves rustling in the woods. Somebody was coming
from the direction of Danni’s house.

He stood up quickly then, taking off the rubber gloves and stuffing them into his pants pockets as he moved, fielded the binoculars,
and looked through the trees. Danni
and Tobin
were running toward him.

Sam picked up the revolver off the ground where he had laid it while he attended to Felton, held it in the palm of his hand
and looked at it for several seconds as he continued to listen to Danni and Jack rustling through the woods, getting closer
and closer. Then he smiled to himself as he placed the gun in his inside jacket pocket.

 

“Stop!” Sam yelled to Danni and Jack, putting his hand up when they were about twenty feet away. “I’ve got a dead body here.
It’s Felton.”

Danni and Jack both stopped for a moment.

“We know,” Danni said. “At least, we knew Felton was shot. We didn’t know he was dead.”

“How did you know?” Sam asked.

“I shot him,” Jack said.

Just then the sirens stopped.

“I want you two to stay right there. This is a crime scene and my forensics team is going to be here in a moment.”

The team arrived at the scene a few minutes later: three men and two women, accompanied by two male homicide detectives. The
forensics people didn’t need any direction. They saw the dead body and went to work.

Sam addressed the detectives.

“That’s Jack Tobin over there. He says he was the shooter. I want you to read him his rights and then take a statement if
he’ll give you one. Take a statement from Danni, too. Same procedure. I know she’s one of us but I want it done by the book.”

“Jack says Felton had a gun,” Danni said to Sam.

“I want someone to look for a gun,” Sam said to the people on the ground. “You don’t happen to know what kind of gun, do you?”
he asked Jack.

“No,” Jack said. “I was about fifty feet away.”

“But you’re sure it was a gun?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Yeah, like I said.”

Sam turned to the two detectives. “No need for you to be here. Why don’t you take them down to the station and interview them
there.”

“What’s going on, Sam?” Danni asked.

“Nothing, Danni. It’s standard procedure—you know that. I’ll have this team scour the area. We’ll find the gun if it’s here.
Then you and Mr. Tobin will be able to go home.”

B
y the time they started for the police vehicles, Jack had made the decision to stop talking. He knew he shouldn’t have said
anything to begin with, but even experienced trial lawyers made mistakes, especially when they were innocent and wanted to
help the investigation. When he heard his own words that he was “pretty sure” Felton had a gun and then heard Sam Jeffries
repeat those words as a question, he instinctively knew he had said too much. So he sat in a small room for two hours across
from a homicide detective named Cal. Cal asked questions, and Jack smiled and refused to answer.

“Do you want a lawyer?” Cal asked. “Because we’ll get you one.”

I’ll bet you will
, Jack thought to himself as he smiled at Cal and said, “No thanks.”

Jack knew a slew of criminal lawyers, but he was not sure who to call or even if he wanted somebody at this point. At least
Cal knew enough not to give him the usual line that things would go easier with him if he started talking.

 

Sam Jeffries had not yet decided what he was going to do with the gun. He wanted to let things play out for a bit. He was
disappointed that he hadn’t gotten the chance to shoot Felton, but that had been a long shot from the start. At least he had
gotten in a few final blows. Now he had the opportunity to get Tobin, the prick who’d gotten Felton out of jail—
for money—
so he could kill Sam’s daughter. It was a dangerous game. He’d have to beat Tobin in his own bailiwick—the courtroom. But he had nothing left to lose. He’d lost too much already. And it would be such sweet revenge to outwit
the now infamous Jack Tobin.

His crew at the scene had already called and informed him that they had found a pup tent and some clothes, food, and a credit
card with Jack’s name on it.

So he was staying out there waiting for Felton. How do I spin this? Or can I? I’ll just wait and see what else they come up
with. In the meantime I’ll work on Tobin.

He made his first move while Jack was sitting in the interrogation room.

He made sure nobody was in the observation room before walking in and tapping Cal on the shoulder.

“You can take a break, Cal.” Cal didn’t need any prompting. He left immediately.

“How are you doing, Jack?” Sam said when the two men were alone.

Jack didn’t know what to make of the situation—Sam Jeffries being nice to him. Something was wrong.

“Fine.”

“Listen, I’ll have you out of here in no time. We just need to finish up some paperwork. Cal didn’t bust your balls too badly,
did he?”

“No. We had a nice conversation.”

“A little one-sided, I’m sure. I want you to know that I’ve got people scouring those woods for Felton’s gun. They’ll be out
there until dark and if they don’t find it, they’ll be back again tomorrow morning. If we find the gun, I’ll call you right
away.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m surprised that you’re even talking to me.”

“You did a job and you did it to the best of your ability. I’ve got an obligation to do the same thing. I don’t hold you personally
responsible for my daughter’s death if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It is. I don’t know that I wouldn’t hold you responsible if our roles were reversed.”

“You wouldn’t. You’d be angry in the beginning like I was but eventually you’d get to the same place.”

“I hope I would,” Jack replied.

“Let me check on that paperwork and I’ll get you out of here.”

Sam was back minutes later.

“Everything is in order, Jack. I’ve just got a statement for you to sign. It contains the things you said at the scene.”

“I’m not going to sign anything, Sam. You know what I said and I know what I said and there are plenty of witnesses if you
need them. I’m just not going to sign anything.”

“I understand. You’re free to go. You can pick up your stuff at the front desk They recovered some stuff of yours in the woods,
too, including a credit card. You ought to be more careful with things.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jack said. “Is Danni still here?”

“No, she left an hour ago.”

As soon as he left the station, Jack called Danni to make sure she was okay. He didn’t get an answer so he left her a message
letting her know that he was out.

“I’m just calling to let you know I’m okay and to make sure that you are as well. Talk to you soon.”

Jack had an ominous feeling. Sam Jeffries had been too nice. Things had gone too smoothly. He knew that if they didn’t find
Felton’s gun, however, he had some problems. If the cops were going to quit looking for the gun at dark, he was going to be
out there with a flashlight. The gun had to be there somewhere—
unless somebody took it!
Jack wasn’t ready to consider that possibility yet. He wanted to search for himself first.

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