Zac Jordan was a defense lawyer who worked pro bono for the Defense League, a group that represented the poor and hopeless.
During a brief break from her job with the DA, Yuki had worked for Zac Jordan and could say that he was one of the good guys and that his client was lucky to have him.
In this case, his client was facing major prison time for being in the wrong car at the wrong time.
Yuki sat down and asked, “How’s it going, Clay?”
He said, “Just wonderful.”
Clay Warren looked younger than his age. He was small and blond haired, with a button nose, but when he glanced up, his gray eyes were hard. After his quick appraisal of Yuki, he lowered his gaze to his hands, the cuffs linked to a metal loop in the middle of the table. He looked resigned.
“Clay,” she said, “as we discussed before, a police officer is dead. You know who shot him. I’m asking you again to help us by telling us who did that. Otherwise, I can’t help you, and you’ll be charged as an accomplice to murder and for possession of narcotics with intent, and tried as an adult. You’re looking at life in prison.”
“For driving the car,” he said.
“Do you understand me?” Yuki asked. “You’re an accomplice to the murder of a cop. If you help us get the shooter, the DA might help you out. The charges could be lowered significantly, Clay.”
“I don’t know anything. I was driving. I heard the siren. I pull over and get charged with all of this bullshit. It’s wrong. All wrong. I was speeding. Period.”
“And the drugs inside the car? Where’d you get a million dollars’ worth of fentanyl?”
Yuki knew that there was a tentative ID on the dealer. The cop who’d watched his partner die on the street had reviewed photos of likely suspects, big-time drug dealers, and thought the shooter might be Antoine Castro, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
Yuki said, “Why are you taking the weight for scum like Antoine Castro?”
The kid shook his head no.
Castro was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. By now, Yuki was willing to bet, he’d left the country and assumed a new identity.
Zac said, “Lying isn’t helping you, son. I know ADA Castellano. I’ll negotiate for you.”
“For God’s sake,” Warren shouted. “Leave me alone.”
Yuki imagined that if the killer dealer was Castro, he’d gotten word to the kid. Warned him.
You talk. You die.
Clay Warren wasn’t going to talk. Yuki stood up.
“I’m sorry, Zac.”
“You tried,” he said.
She went to the door and the guard opened it for her. She left Zac Jordan alone with his client, a scared kid who was going to die in prison, just a matter of when.