Thriller
Date Published: Jan. 1, 2016
A mysterious killer who calls himself The Artist is assassinating wealthy lawyers in San Francisco. When war veteran Jake Wolfe accidentally takes his picture during a murder, The Artist adds Jake to his kill list and he becomes a target in a deadly game of cat and mouse that only one of them can survive. How far would you go to protect your loved ones from a killer? Jake wants to leave his top secret, violent past life behind him. But the reluctant, flawed hero can't ignore his duty and his personal moral compass.
Chapter 1
Some men are alive simply because
it is against the law to kill them.
—E. W. Howe
San Francisco Superior Court Building
Criminal Courtroom Number 8
On the morning before attorney Richard
Caxton was shot, he spent an hour in court doing what he did best—lying to the
jury.
This time around, Caxton’s client was
the son of a wealthy mortgage banker. Brice Riabraun had “allegedly” been
driving under the influence of alcohol when he’d crashed his luxury SUV into
the Tate family’s economy car. In court, Caxton claimed that the police had
mishandled the case.
In Caxton’s successful cases, he often
found a loophole in the law, or a small procedural error by the police, or a
semi-believable alibi that would hold up just long enough to bamboozle a jury. He
exploited these opportunities with the smooth-talking technique of a used car
salesman. Other attorneys in the city marveled at—and envied—the creatively dishonest con man.
After arguing relentlessly for his
version of the truth, Caxton listened to the court clerk read the jury’s
verdict aloud and pronounce Riabraun not guilty.
Judge Emerson frowned.
Caxton had to make an effort not to
laugh.
Brian Tate bolted from his chair and
railed at the jury. “How could you find him innocent when he was driving with a
0.15 blood alcohol level? Witnesses said he drank seven beers before he crashed
into our car and almost killed my wife and kids!”
Tate’s wife, Judy, sat next to him
with her arm in a plaster cast. The twelve jurors seated in the jury box
averted their eyes and didn’t reply to him. Tate turned and stared at Caxton
and his client with the righteous fury of someone who had been cheated out of
justice.
Judge Emerson slammed his gavel down. “Order!
Sit down, Mr. Tate.”
Caxton and his client just sat there
gloating, and trying not to laugh at Tate, the working man in his department
store suit and tie.
Tate curled his lip and ignored Judge
Emerson’s warning and jabbed his finger at Caxton. “Anyone else would be going
to prison now, but your client had the cash to hire the best lying lawyer that
money can buy. Somebody ought to teach you two a lesson—the hard way.”
“Mr. Tate, that is enough!” Judge
Emerson said as he banged his gavel again. “Do not test my patience, or you
will find yourself held in contempt of court.”
Tate took a deep breath and let it
out, struggling for control. “Yes, Your Honor.” He sat down, but continued to
glare at Caxton.
Caxton shrugged and maintained his
cool and professional appearance. He had perfect teeth, a year-round tan,
manicured fingernails, and the latest hairstyle. His suits, shirts, and ties
were all custom-made by the finest tailors in the Financial District.
Caxton was used to having that level
of helpless anger leveled at him by now. He couldn’t have cared less about it.
He’d earned a reputation in San Francisco as the lawyer you loved to hate.
But as he often said, being hated sure did pay well.
Caxton’s favorite story was about a
client who had asked him if he could seek justice. He’d answered, “Yes, and how
much justice can you afford to buy today?”
“You are now free to go, Mr. Riabraun,”
Judge Emerson announced.
Riabraun grinned and shook hands with
Caxton, then exited through a side door. He was already sliding into a waiting
limousine when Emerson dismissed the jury.
Caxton headed toward the front
entrance of the court building with his head held high. He went outside and
faced the news reporters and gave a brief but well-rehearsed speech. “Today,
justice was served. My client was found not guilty by a jury in a court of law.
Thank goodness we live in a country where lawyers can protect honest,
hardworking people such as my client from false accusations.”
Reporters yelled questions at Caxton,
but he walked away, looking pious. His publicist would issue a statement to the
press any minute now. As he strolled toward the parking lot and his brand-new
BMW, he didn’t notice someone sitting in a car watching him.
About the author:
Mark Nolan is the author of Dead Lawyers Don't Lie, and the sequel,Vigilante Assassin. Right now he's busy writing Jake Wolfe Book 3. He has raised two great kids and one very smart retriever dog. Mark also tries to make time every day to answer emails from readers. You can reach him and subscribe to his newsletter at marknolan.com.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
0 Σχόλια