Disclaimer: See chapter 1
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Lloyd watched a black woman and a boy he considered to be about fourteen come out of the office. The woman dragged the boy angrily toward the elevator, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. He shuddered to think what might be in store for them. "Miss Crest will see you now," the secretary, sitting at the small desk outside the office, said. Lloyd stood and went to the door the mother and son had just exited.
Julie Crest's head of light brown curls was bent over a sturdy but pock marked mahogany desk that had likely served scores of public defenders before her as she wrote on a legal pad when Lloyd entered and she did not look up. "Have a seat," she said impatiently. Lloyd sat in the chair across from her desk and waited silently while Crest continued writing. When she finally looked up her hazel eyes widened in, what Lloyd considered, was either shock or surprise at seeing a middle aged man, stylishly dressed in a black Ralph Lauren that fit him perfectly, sitting in front of her. As she examined Lloyd, he too examined her. She wore a pink cashmere pullover. She appeared to be medium height but Lloyd admitted to himself that that was difficult to assess when she was sitting down. She had large eyes and a pretty face. Her complexion was flawless. Her chin length curly bob softened her long face and added width. The curls fell into the hazel eyes and she pushed a few rebellious strands back with her left hand as she addressed the newcomer.
"What can I do for you?" she asked rather warily. This man did not look like he was in need of a public defender.
Lloyd opened his black Italian leather briefcase, a Christmas gift from Spencer and Allie, that he'd set beside the chair. "I'm Lloyd Graham from Lancaster, Ohio. This is an official request for all documentation, discovery and work product in the case of US v Mendez in 2002," he said as he handed her the document.
"Why are you interested in this case?" she asked.
"Because I think it's about time justice was served in this matter, don't you? Isn't that why we're both in this profession?" Lloyd asked.
"What exactly are you saying?" she inquired curtly, looking down at her desk.
"You know precisely what I'm saying," Lloyd got to his feet. "You never fought for that boy. You considered him guilty from the outset and you never fought."
"I did so," Julie Crest rose to her feet as well. "All Mendez had to do was name his accomplices and he wouldn't be in prison today."
"No," Lloyd replied sarcastically, "he'd be dead! You know as well as I do that as soon as he ratted on his amigos he'd have been a dead man and probably his grandmother before him. He might have been willing to risk it for himself but not for his beloved grandmother so he kept quiet." The young lawyer looked appropriately chastised. Lloyd carried on, "Did you even take the time to talk to him, really talk to him? If you had maybe you'd have realized that Chico is one of the gentle souls of this world with an underlying strength of steel. He only joined a gang to survive in his neighborhood so he could eventually get out. He couldn't have hurt those people. Even his own gang members knew that and that's why they made him the lookout and he wasn't even good at that because Chico is not a criminal at heart."
"Look, that was my first case out of law school and I did the best I could," Crest shot back.
"The best you could," Lloyd's voice raised another octave, "you know, sadly I think that's true. Your record since Chico's trial doesn't show you've learned anything in six years."
"That's unfair," Crest responded.
"Is it, you plead out practically everything and the only win you got was when a prosecution witness recanted. Anyway, I'm not here to argue your fitness to practice law. That will be my argument as the appellant for Chico Mendes before the Federal Court of Appeals. I wanted to show you the courtesy of telling you to your face instead of just sending a court order for the documents."
Lloyd was surprised at the look he now saw on Julie Crest's face. It wasn't anger or fear, it was relief and he realized she'd always known this day would come and she now felt release that it finally had. "Perhaps," Lloyd's tone softened, "you'd be happier in another area of the law that's less litigious like wills, estates or contracts, things like that. The courtroom isn't for everyone and there's no shame in admitting that. Good luck Miss Crest," he said as he picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.
"Mr. Graham," she said as his hand turned the knob. "How can I help?"
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Chico rushed into the lounge and looked through the sea of khaki clad men. Most were watching television while one pair was playing checkers and a few were involved in a card game. The man he was looking for was involved in none of those pursuits but was quietly sitting in a corner reading a book. Chico crossed the room to sit in the vacant chair beside him. He looked at the cover of the book the professor was reading, The Monster Within, a look at the art of criminal profiling by former FBI agent David Rossi. That seemed like pretty heavy stuff, Chico thought. William looked up from his book, marked his page and closed it. "Hello Chico," he said.
"Hi professor, I just heard from Mr. Graham. He said he's going to," he took out his note pad where he'd written down exactly what the lawyer had told him, "Present his brief on my case before the Federal Court of Appeals in two weeks. That's really exciting."
William tried to choose his words carefully. He did not want to extinguish the young man's hope but neither did he want him chasing rainbows. "Yes Chico, that's very exciting and I'll keep my fingers crossed for you but I don't want you to get your hopes up too high. Just because L…uh, Mr. Graham, is presenting your case doesn't mean the judges will reverse it."
"I know," the young Latino replied, "but, at least, it's something. He said he's doing this for someone who wants the best for me but wants to remain anonymous. You don't suppose somehow my mother…"
"Chico," William began, not wanting his young friend to get false hopes about his mother, "I don't think you should contemplate too much about that. What you should do, if this turns out well, is use this chance to better your life. I'm sure that's what the person who hired Mr. Graham wants."
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Spencer and Allie lay on the couch, their bodies entwined. Allie was watching Grey's Anatomy while Spencer read an article in the latest Scientific American. Noises coming from the baby monitor informed them little Miss Joanna was awake. The pair disengaged limbs and Spencer headed down the hallway to the nursery. Allie could hear father and daughter through the monitor. "Hello little girl," Spencer said in a high pitched voice eliciting a squeal of delight from the nearly six week old infant. Spencer carried his daughter to the living room and sat on the couch to wait for Allie. He could hear her in the kitchen.
As Allie entered the living room, she said, "How about you feed her tonight?"
Reid looked down at his chest and back at Allie who giggled and pulled a nursing bottle from behind her back, "Here," she held it out to her husband.
"Allie, are we supposed to give her milk so soon? I mean, shouldn't she still have breast milk? Studies have shown…"
Allies fingers pressed against his mouth, "It is breast milk. I pumped. Go ahead," she encouraged.
Reid took the bottle and held Joanna like he'd seen Allie do and put the nipple in her mouth. Joanna pushed the offending object out with her tongue. "She doesn't like it. Maybe you better…"
"Just try again. Give her a while to get used to it. She'll have to get used to it when I go back to work," Allie told him as he again gave Joanna the bottle.
"About that," Reid began, "maybe you shouldn't, go back to work, I mean. Studies have shown that children of non working mothers have a higher…"
Allie's fingers clamped over his mouth again. "Look," she whispered, and Spencer glanced down to see Joanna sucking greedily on the bottle.
"I'm feeding her," Reid's eyes widened with that childlike innocence Allie adored. "I'm actually feeding our daughter." Allie nodded and stroked his hair as he grinned down at Joanna.
