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FulMetl
Meteorite
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2024
He'd been to county lockup more times than he could remember. Most of his clients were guests here at one point or another. It was the smell that made it stand out the most. A vague suggestion of human body odor overpowered by Simple Green. The state had a contract with Sunshine Makers, Inc for their most notoriously smelling cleaning product. They used it in the court houses across the state too, only much less of it. He didn't know their names but he recognized most of the deputies on staff at the jail.
“I'm Jerry Phillips, attorney-at-law, here to see Sharita Dawkins.”
They led him into a room off the main corridor. Jerry was already seated, with his fingers interlaced when they brought her in. She was younger than he was, with dark curly hair and her skin tone suggested she was the child of a biracial union. She was terrified, or so said the look on her face.
“Can we lose the handcuffs please...Thank you.”
The room had bare walls, which was good. No cameras, no mics and no one-way mirrors for observation. Jerry waited for the door to click shut before he spoke again.
“I'm Jerry Phillips and I want to be your lawyer.”
She just stared back at him for a brief moment, “Why?”
“Because you have a public defender who's about to get steamed rolled by the DA's office, and because Dakota Duncan asked me to take your case pro bono.”
“I-I like her.” Sharita nodded, “I worked for a private insurance company before Midlund Pharmaceuticals. The owner suspected his investigators of fraud. Ms. Duncan was brought in, quietly, to look into their work. I was tasked with making sure she got paid without having attention drawn to her.”
Jerry felt his stomach knot up and the blood in his chest ran cold.
“So you have experience hiding money?” Jerry asked.
“Yes,” she insisted, “but it's not like that. I didn't steal any money from either company I worked for and I was smart enough to keep my own records of those transactions. In fact, I think my previous experience may be why I'm in this mess to begin with.”
Jerry took notes while Ms. Dawkins told her story. Midlund Pharmaceuticals CFO, Gillian Larson, had taken Sharita under her wing and been a mentor to her. Gillian had learned about her previous experience. She'd also brought Sharita bills from vendors that were allegedly rendering service for pharmaceuticals research.
“Did you tell your public defender any of this?”
“His only interest was pleading me out.”
“Ya, we're not doing that. What about the records you kept.”
“The police took those during the search after I was arrested.”
Ya. And handed them over to the DA's office. The fact that she's still here is a really bad sign.
“Have any backup copies of those records?”
“I got a friend of mine to embed a thumb drive inside a three-d printed little yellow racecar. My son likes it but you'll have to break it to get the thumb drive out.”
Three cheers for the super paranoid.
Jerry left once they took his client back to lockup. With new clients always came a fair amount of work. He needed fuel and he needed wifi, which meant he needed Starbucks. A voicemail and an email to Derek Sutherland and the DA's office letting them both know that he was Sharita Dawkins' new attorney. Next was a text message to his favorite investigator.
Took the Dawkins case pro bono. Need you on it too. All the dirt you can get on Midlund Pharmaceuticals CFO, Gillian Larson.
He had a long ride through traffic to get back to his office. There were other things to consider if this case went sideways. If Gillian Larson was guilty but somehow walked, Jerry would be faced with the situation of having to kill a woman. He'd never done that before. Just last night he'd ended the life of Manuel Espinoza. Manuel had killed a family of four who couldn't meet his price. His crew had managed to kill three eye witnesses which let him walk. And so Jerry, in the span of a single breath, hit Manuel three times in the throat and crushed his windpipe. Jerry was a meta and for a meta, taking a life was a rather simple proposition. The difficult portion always came beforehand, like with Gillian. If Sharita went to jail, Gillian would have effectively destroyed a life and such actions bore consequences. A court of law would have the opportunity to do so. Jerry often succeeded where they failed.
“I'm Jerry Phillips, attorney-at-law, here to see Sharita Dawkins.”
They led him into a room off the main corridor. Jerry was already seated, with his fingers interlaced when they brought her in. She was younger than he was, with dark curly hair and her skin tone suggested she was the child of a biracial union. She was terrified, or so said the look on her face.
“Can we lose the handcuffs please...Thank you.”
The room had bare walls, which was good. No cameras, no mics and no one-way mirrors for observation. Jerry waited for the door to click shut before he spoke again.
“I'm Jerry Phillips and I want to be your lawyer.”
She just stared back at him for a brief moment, “Why?”
“Because you have a public defender who's about to get steamed rolled by the DA's office, and because Dakota Duncan asked me to take your case pro bono.”
“I-I like her.” Sharita nodded, “I worked for a private insurance company before Midlund Pharmaceuticals. The owner suspected his investigators of fraud. Ms. Duncan was brought in, quietly, to look into their work. I was tasked with making sure she got paid without having attention drawn to her.”
Jerry felt his stomach knot up and the blood in his chest ran cold.
“So you have experience hiding money?” Jerry asked.
“Yes,” she insisted, “but it's not like that. I didn't steal any money from either company I worked for and I was smart enough to keep my own records of those transactions. In fact, I think my previous experience may be why I'm in this mess to begin with.”
Jerry took notes while Ms. Dawkins told her story. Midlund Pharmaceuticals CFO, Gillian Larson, had taken Sharita under her wing and been a mentor to her. Gillian had learned about her previous experience. She'd also brought Sharita bills from vendors that were allegedly rendering service for pharmaceuticals research.
“Did you tell your public defender any of this?”
“His only interest was pleading me out.”
“Ya, we're not doing that. What about the records you kept.”
“The police took those during the search after I was arrested.”
Ya. And handed them over to the DA's office. The fact that she's still here is a really bad sign.
“Have any backup copies of those records?”
“I got a friend of mine to embed a thumb drive inside a three-d printed little yellow racecar. My son likes it but you'll have to break it to get the thumb drive out.”
Three cheers for the super paranoid.
Jerry left once they took his client back to lockup. With new clients always came a fair amount of work. He needed fuel and he needed wifi, which meant he needed Starbucks. A voicemail and an email to Derek Sutherland and the DA's office letting them both know that he was Sharita Dawkins' new attorney. Next was a text message to his favorite investigator.
Took the Dawkins case pro bono. Need you on it too. All the dirt you can get on Midlund Pharmaceuticals CFO, Gillian Larson.
He had a long ride through traffic to get back to his office. There were other things to consider if this case went sideways. If Gillian Larson was guilty but somehow walked, Jerry would be faced with the situation of having to kill a woman. He'd never done that before. Just last night he'd ended the life of Manuel Espinoza. Manuel had killed a family of four who couldn't meet his price. His crew had managed to kill three eye witnesses which let him walk. And so Jerry, in the span of a single breath, hit Manuel three times in the throat and crushed his windpipe. Jerry was a meta and for a meta, taking a life was a rather simple proposition. The difficult portion always came beforehand, like with Gillian. If Sharita went to jail, Gillian would have effectively destroyed a life and such actions bore consequences. A court of law would have the opportunity to do so. Jerry often succeeded where they failed.