CHAPTER SIX
Vacatio Legis
I parked at the visitors’ entrance. As I walked through the gate reserved for inmates’ family members and wives, I spotted a police officer across the street removing posters hung on the fence in support of Dante. Marriage proposals, social media handles, and everything else you could imagine.
The night before, I’d spent some time browsing the internet, reading forums and watching edits about Dante. A bunch of desperate teenagers vying for the attention of the coveted Marino.
“Next,” the guard shouted, nodding at me. A female guard approached and patted me down while I gave Dante’s information. “Relationship?”
My mouth opened and then closed. We were nothing, but I couldn’t say that.
“Did you hear me, ma’am?” he insisted.
“Yes.” I adjusted the black suit I’d chosen for today. The cut was more casual despite the color, but not overly so. I wasn’t here as a lawyer, but I still needed to project a professional image. “We’re… close.”
While I thought of a thousand better answers than the one I’d given, a guard approached the one helping me and whispered something in his ear. They both stared at me.
“Is that a problem?” I asked, straightening up a little.
“You can wait over there in the corner,” the newly arrived guard said.
The people in line behind me looked at me judgmentally. Or maybe they just reflected my own feelings.
I stopped in the corner of the room and checked my phone one last time.
A message from my father blinked in the notification bar, along with a reminder of my mother’s birthday in two days.
I’d been ignoring my father all weekend and would keep doing so until my mother’s birthday, when I’d be forced to see him anyway.
“Miss Torres?” the guard called after fifteen minutes, once the waiting room had emptied. I approached the counter again. “I’m sorry, but it won’t be possible to visit Dante Marino today.”
“I don’t understand. Did something happen?”
“The prisoner’s visitation has been suspended.”
“Since when? I called before coming and was told I could see him during visiting hours.” I’d confirmed before driving to Alta.
“Must have been some misunderstanding.”
His answer came out strange, as if he didn’t believe his own words.
“I see.” I stared at him, searching for the truth, but he pulled away, leaving me there with the question gnawing at my brain.
Irritated, I drove back to Heritage, heading straight to the office where I’d hole up for the next few hours. And for the next two days.
By late Wednesday afternoon, after spending another day trying to find out if visits to Dante had been cleared and repeatedly getting the same answer, I felt completely frustrated.
After wrapping up an online hearing, I put on my beanie, scarf, and coat, and took advantage of the snow letting up on the sidewalks to walk to a café a few blocks down.
It took a while because the café was packed and the barista seemed to be at the end of her shift.
As I was heading back with my steaming cup of coffee, I heard a horn beside me and turned to find William’s BMW with its tinted windows rolling down.
“Trying to freeze to death?” William smiled. “Get in.”
I looked around and saw the snow had returned. I’d been so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed. I opened the door and got into the car, which was nice and warm. It was almost a shock to realize I hadn’t noticed how cold and empty the street had become.
“Thanks,” I said, placing my coffee in the cup holder to take off my beanie.
“What’s bothering you?” William asked. We were still parked.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just needed coffee.”
“Pistachio?” He stared at the name on the cup. “You’re allergic to pistachio, Lee.”
I grabbed the cup and checked the name—it wasn’t mine. They’d switched my drink and nearly killed me in the bargain.
“I was distracted.”
I smiled at him.
“How’s the office?”
“Getting by,” I said, downplaying it. “And you? How’s the case?”
William took a deep breath and rested his hands on the steering wheel.
“It’s draining me.”
“I thought it was a piece of cake.”
“Me too,” he smiled.
“Who’s the defense attorney?”
William stared at me.
“That’s the weirdest part,” William said, turning to look at me. “No one, at the moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yan Route from Route&Ross represented him at the arraignment, but when I contacted them for an update, they told me they were no longer on Marino’s case. Apparently another firm took over, but no one knows who yet.”
I tried not to show any emotion, even though they were building up in my throat.
“Have you heard anything?” William asked.
Me? Why me?
“No,” I replied. “Doesn't the judge know?”
“Apparently the Marinos got 72 hours to name someone, or the case would be assigned to a public defender.”
I swallowed hard. They must be hoping Dante will be reasonable about choosing someone. But the bastard is fixated on me.
“It's not bad. Would be better for me,” William said smugly. “But I guess I was hoping they'd at least give me some work.”
“There are good lawyers in the public defender's office.”
“As good as Route&Ross? Or Norman's firm? All those firms reached out, and the Marinos turned them down. The best in Heritage and Alta were rejected.”
“Torres&Fields wasn't,” I said. “You know… I mean, you said the best were rejected, but not all of them.”
William laughed. Not the laugh of someone who found my joke funny, but the laugh of someone who thought I was the joke.
“You know what I meant.”
“No, William. What did you mean?” I stared him down.
William, who had been laughing, stopped immediately and shifted in his seat.
“I meant the more… traditional firms.”
“Run by men, you mean.”
“No. Norman has a great lawyer at his side,” he replied uncomfortably.
“What's her name?” I crossed my arms.
“I… I mean. She's new.”
“You know why you don't know? Because her name will never be on the wall at Norman Law.
Just like Route&Ross has one of the best lawyers in the country on their team, but she's never in the company photos that end up in the society columns, because she's a Black woman who succeeded despite the statistics that enrich corporate, sexist assholes… like Yan and you.”
“Helena, this isn't about sexism.”
“It always is. Besides, I'm not asking or suggesting we're better. I'm stating that the case is already in the hands of one of the best firms in Heritage, and in the state.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm saying we haven't refused Dante Marino's proposal yet.” He looked surprised, and I felt like a powerful badass.
“Yeah. We didn't need to apply for the position because it's been ours since day one.
And the only reason I wasn't on the other side of your ring was out of respect for you. But you know what? This is a bait case.”
“You wouldn't dare…”
“That's the problem with you two,” I opened the car door. “You're always forgetting I'm not the type who asks for permission.”
I slammed the door hard. The snow had picked up, but the truth was I didn't feel it at all. I was feeling that heat… the kind only a lawyer can understand. That feeling that burns your fingertips before you walk into the courtroom to defend someone whose case is difficult but not impossible.
Which maybe wasn't Dante's case… but now it was too late to back down.
I picked up my phone and dialed Braxton's number.
“This is Dr. Helena Torres, and I'd like to schedule an appointment with Director Vargas to discuss matters regarding my client,” I said confidently.
“And what's the inmate number?”
“Inmate #772-25-16.”