The line went quiet. I almost thought that he’d hung up on me and that I would have to call back, but then I heard the fat man’s labored breathing. He spluttered a few times like he was about to start screaming into the phone, and I hoped that he would be smart enough not to shout about the kickbacks in his office. Finally, he took a deep breath in and let it out as if he had realized that he was cornered.
“Fine,” the judge muttered so low I almost didn’t hear him. “Pick a time and a place, and I’ll be there.”
I heard the click as he hung up, and then I found myself standing in the middle of my apartment staring at the wall. Somehow, I’d convinced the corrupt judge to meet with me. I’d won the argument and would soon be able to have Camilo released.
But that was only if the judge was smart enough to accept Osvaldo’s offer.
Chapter 20
“That was fast,” Judge Travis Williams huffed as he answered his office phone.
“I didn’t want to waste your time,” I said as I stared out of my apartment window to the alleyway below. “You’re a busy man. I’m sure you have a lot of trials to oversee today.”
“I do,” the corrupt magistrate responded in a tight voice. “So when and where is this meeting?”
“Your house,” I told him. “This afternoon after you’re finished with court. Let’s say six p.m..”
“My wife and son will be home then,” he growled.
“So make sure that they’re out for the evening,” I replied with a shrug that he couldn’t see. “Or that they’re in another part of the house. Your house is large enough for a private office. And I doubt you want them to understand what kind of man you are.”
“Fine,” the man huffed, and I could almost picture the large man’s face turning bright red with rage. “Six o’clock. I assume you already have my address?”
“I do,” I said. “I’ll see you at six.”
There was a loud bang as the old magistrate slammed his office phone down on his receiver, and I looked at my cell phone like the force would’ve damaged my device. I shook my head, though I could understand why he was so angry. His corruption had been discovered, and the life he’d built for himself was in jeopardy. If I didn’t despise what he’d done so much, then I might actually feel sorry for him.
I looked back out into the alley as I calmed my racing heart. I’d managed to keep my composure while I was on the phone, but it was the first time that I’d set up a meeting with the sole purpose of blackmailing someone. Though, if I was honest, I had convinced plenty of DAs and other lawyers to see things my way, and convincing the judge to work with my employer wouldn’t be that different.
There was still another phone call I had to make, so I pulled myself out of my moral dilemma and dialed the number.
“Did he agree?” Alvaro’s soft, deep voice asked as soon as he answered.
“Yes,” I replied. “We’ll meet him at his house at six p.m. tonight. His family will probably be at the house, but we’ll be in his office so they won’t overhear anything.”
“Good,” the second in command. “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. Be ready.”
The intimidating man hung up before I could respond, and I sighed as I stared at the suddenly black screen of my cell phone. I had the entire day to myself, but all of the cases for Osvaldo had been wrapped up except for Camilo, and his release would be dealt with soon enough.
Still, I hadn’t seen the young teen in a few days, and I wanted to check in with him because he’d been so pale and withdrawn the last time I’d seen him. I dialed the number for the Everson Juvenile Detention Center and went through the answering service until I finally reached someone who could get me an appointment with my client.
“Hello?” a woman with a slight New Jersey accent said as she picked up the line.
“Good morning,” I said in as friendly a tone as I could manage. “My name is Roberto Torres. I’m the attorney for Camilo Fuentes. I would like to see him this afternoon.”
“Camilo Fuentes,” the woman muttered.
I could hear her nails click along a keyboard while she popped a piece of gum in her mouth. She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, and then the sound of clicking continued.
“Alright,” she continued after a few minutes. “So your client is in solitary confinement right now. Which means that you can’t see him.”
“Solitary confinement?” I asked as my stomach turned sour.
If the facility knew that I was investigating them, and that I’d found enough to shut them down, then they might take it out on the teen. I could only imagine the terrible things they would do to him in vengeance, and my blood began to boil with hatred for the corrupt juvenile center.
“Yeah,” the Jersey woman responded before she popped a bubble into her phone’s microphone. “Looks like he got mouthy. He’ll be out in a few days. You can see him then.”
“I’ll see him tomorrow,” I told her. “And I will also be reviewing any trips he’s made to the doctor. If I find one bruise on that boy, then you’ll have a lawsuit on your hands.”
“Sure, sure,” the woman responded. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. He’s just fine. I’ll see what I can do about putting you on the books for tomorrow afternoon.”
“You will schedule an appointment,” I demanded as I gripped the cell phone a little tighter. “And make sure to have two
