James Grippando - Hear No Evil

“Yes, Jack is right here next to me,” she told the caller.

Jack groaned and took the phone. “Hello?”

“Is this Jack Swyteck?” It was a woman on the line, a voice he didn’t recognize.

“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?”

“My name is Sofia Suarez.” She paused, as if Jack should recognize the name. Then she added, “I represent Lindsey Hart.”

Jack stepped out of the kitchen, away from the clatter of Abuela’s cooking. “Yes, I saw you on television.”

“Oh, I hate cameras, but with all that media, I felt like I had to say something. How do you think it played?”

Jack didn’t see the point in trashing her conspiracy theory just yet. “Hard to say.”

“It sucked. I know. I sounded like one of those ‘the world is out to get me’ nutcases.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re just being kind. Listen, I’m calling because…well, for a couple of reasons. One, Lindsey asked me to call.”

“She did?”

“Yes. I heard all about the way she told you off the other day, and she is so sorry. She is under so much stress right now. I know that’s not an excuse, but it certainly explains a lot.”

“What does she want?”

“She’s afraid to ask you to come back and represent her. But believe me, in her heart, she is begging for your forgiveness. She needs you, and the only person who knows that more than Lindsey is me.”

“What do you mean?”

She chuckled mirthlessly and said, “I am so over my head here. I’m not a criminal lawyer. Lindsey hired me to handle her probate matter. The estate won’t distribute Oscar’s trust fund to her.”

“I know. She told me about that. Finally.”

“That’s right up my alley. But a murder trial, no way. So please, I’m hoping that you can put aside what happened the other day and do the right thing. Obviously there will be plenty of money to pay you when this probate matter gets straightened out.”

“It was never about the money,” said Jack.

“I know. Lindsey told me about…you know, about you and Brian.”

Jack stepped farther away from the kitchen, careful not to let Abuela overhear anything. “What did she tell you?”

“That you’re the father.”

Jack paused. It was strange, but somehow the fact that this Sofia knew his secret made him feel more connected to her. “I saw Lindsey’s father-in-law on television. Did you agree to let Brian stay with his grandparents?”

Her sigh crackled over the line. “It was a hard decision. Lindsey’s sister would have been glad to take him. But Brian truly wanted the Pintados, and Lindsey didn’t want to drag him through a court fight over who should care for him while she’s in custody.”

Jack knew how Lindsey felt about Pintado. He had to respect a mother who would honor her son’s wishes under those circumstances. “Well, hopefully it will all work out for the best in the end.”

“Yes, if she’s acquitted. Which, again, is where you come in.”

“It’s a complicated decision,” said Jack.

“I’m sure it is. And I hate to push, but I need a commitment from you quickly. I’m scheduled to leave for Guantánamo in the morning.”

“What for?”

“Interviews. On-site inspections. It’s not easy for civilians to arrange a visit to the naval base. If I don’t grab tomorrow’s opening, it could be weeks before I’m able to schedule another trip.”

Jack was thinking aloud. “I should be a part of that, if I’m going to be lead counsel.”

“Definitely. So what do you say?”

“Let me sleep on it.”

“Jack, I really need an answer. If you’re not going to help me on this Guantánamo trip, I need to find a real criminal lawyer who will.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Have you seen the indictment yet?”

“No.”

“It’s a capital case. They’re asking for the death penalty.”

Jack went cold.

“She needs you, Jack. She really needs you.”

Jack considered it. A probate lawyer in a death penalty case? Lindsey didn’t have a chance. He wasn’t one hundred percent convinced of her innocence, but she had offered to take a polygraph. She probably deserved better than the hand she’d been dealt so far.

Brian definitely deserved better-which was enough to swing the balance.

“Okay,” said Jack. “I’m in.”

The next morning Jack and Sofia Suarez met at the airport.

Getting into the U.S. naval air station at Guantánamo Bay had never been easy, and the nation’s war on terrorism had made it nearly as tough as getting into a South Beach nightclub dressed in last year’s fashion. A midmorning commercial flight took them from Miami to Norfolk, Virginia. It was up to them to find ground transportation to the naval air station for their Air Mobility Command flight to Guantánamo, which didn’t leave until six P.M. Jack was actually looking forward to a little shut-eye on the plane. Following their initial phone conversation, Sofia had arranged for a courier to deliver a boxful of grand jury transcripts, witness statements, and other evidence upon which the prosecutor had relied to secure Lindsey’s indictment. Jack had spent almost the entire night reviewing them, and it was now taking its toll. Despite his unstoppable yawns, Sofia seemed determined to talk strategy every step of the way to Guantánamo.

“You want to do the interviews, or you think maybe I should?” said Sofia.

“Wasn’t that the whole point of my coming on board so quickly? So that I could take the lead?”

“It was, but then I got to thinking. We’ll be talking mostly to men, and most of them have been trapped on a military base with a lot of other men for a very long time.”

“So you’re thinking…what?”

“Who are they more likely to spill their guts to? You?” she said, batting her eyes, just to make her point. “Or a total Latin babe?”

She was pouring it on for effect, but with her long black hair and perfect olive skin, the Latin babe thing wasn’t a stretch. If Jack was going to be sandwiched between Lindsey and Sofia at trial, he was going to have to give some serious thought toward gunning for an all-male jury.

This is going to be interesting.

They had about an hour to kill before heading over to the military terminal, so they found a couple of stools at the end of the bar in a relatively uncrowded pub-style restaurant. Sofia was hungry, but Jack had been force-fed by Abuela before leaving the house and would have no use for food for perhaps two or three days. Sofia ordered a Cobb salad, and Jack had coffee.

“You ever been to Cuba before, Jack?”

“No, but I’m curious to see it. My mother was born in Cuba.”

“Really? How does she feel about your defending the woman who is accused of killing the only son of the esteemed Cuban exile, Alejandro Pintado?”

“My mother passed away a long time ago. But my grandmother is still alive and as opinionated as ever. She’s not exactly crazy about it.”

“Sounds like my father. He’s Alpha Sixty-six- Bay of Pigs survivor. I’m proud of him, of course, but he is a bit extreme. For the past forty years he’s spent two Saturdays a month dressed in camouflage, crawling around on his belly in the Florida Everglades, getting ready for the next armed invasion of Cuba. When I told him I was representing Lindsey Hart, I think he would actually have petitioned to have me disbarred if it hadn’t cost him so much to put me through law school.”

“Obviously his objections don’t bother you.”

“Nah. I’ll be dancing in the streets along with everyone else when Castro falls, but it’s not my life’s work. In the eyes of men like my father and Alejandro Pintado, I suppose that makes me a communist. When it comes to politics, we just have to agree to disagree.”