Turner Justice Read online

  Ellie poked her head into my office. “Winston is here to see you.”

  “Thanks, show him in.”

  Winston came in with a big smile on his face. “I found your ghost.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep, he’s alive and well.”

  “Really?”

  “I dunno what the man’s thinking, he’s practically hiding in plain sight. It was just a matter of time before somebody else stumbled onto him.”

  “You mean he’s here in the city?”

  Winston tossed a manila envelope onto my desk. I opened it and slid out the photos of George.

  “Not only that, but he also lives only a block away from his brother’s house.”

  “So, Thomas Warner really saw something that night.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Do you want me to look into it?”

  “As fast as you can.”

  6

  I fiddled with my phone as I waited in my car outside the apartment building. Winston had not yet been able to find any connection between Fred’s apartment and George, and we were down to the wire. We did have George’s fingerprints in the apartment, but nothing that directly connected him to the murder.

  Only the word of a crazy man, I thought, remembering Thomas Warner’s claim that it was a ghost.

  I was outside the apartment of the so-called dead brother George. I wanted to confirm Winston’s report with my own eyes and maybe do a little more than that.

  Winston had also helped me affix a wire to my chest.

  I was starting to get cold a couple hours later while I waited in the rental car—my own car was far too noticeable—before I saw George coming out of the apartment.

  I brought up my binoculars and studied the man’s face.

  “It’s him, no doubt about it,” I muttered. “But why fake his death and then murder his brother’s girlfriend?”

  Fred had not even known the victim at the time of George’s death. They had met and started dating later.

  “Therein is the rub,” Winston said to me through an earbud hidden in my ear. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m happy to do it myself.”

  I didn’t answer Winston as I pulled the door handle of the car and got out, heading towards George, who was walking in my direction.

  I gave him a pleasant smile when we made eye contact.

  He then looked away.

  “George,” I said, acting like I’d just realized who he was, “George Samuelson!”

  The man froze like he had been caught trying to rob a bank.

  “I thought that was you!” I said while reaching into my pocket for my phone.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who you are. I believe you have mistaken me for somebody else.”

  “All I need is your picture.”

  I snapped a picture and thrust my phone back into my pocket before he could react, all while giving him my best smile.

  Without another word, I turned and headed back to the rental car, curious to see how he would respond.

  I didn’t really need the picture.

  It was just bait.

  “Hey, wait a second?” George caught up to me. “Can I talk to you? What do you want?”

  I stopped, causing him to lurch to a halt.

  “Hey, I know you,” he said, “you’re that attorney who puts his face all over the small billboards around town.”

  I hope to afford the more expensive ones before long.

  “Why did you fake your death?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know you held your own funeral, but I don’t know why?”

  I had my theory, but I wasn’t going to tell him that all at once.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  George looked around. “Is there someplace we can talk?”

  7

  George was seated across from me, sipping on his mug of coffee while I ate a brownie with ice cream on top. We had sat in silence while we waited for our orders. I usually would have already asked a potential suspect a lot of questions, but I was curious about why he wanted to talk to me, so I decided to see how it played out.

  Perhaps he thought he could reason with me.

  “How did you find me?” George asked after a long sip of his coffee. He seemed surprised by how good it was. That was something I heard a lot when I met somebody here.

  “Don’t you worry about that. You just tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I didn’t come here to just get two-word statements that don’t make any sense. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Fred Samuelson is not my biological brother. I was adopted.”

  “I already knew that. How does this relate to you faking your death?”

  “The death of our parents hit Fred hard.”

  I frowned. “So, you decided to help him out by removing the last familial connection he had on this earth?”

  George grimaced and took a moment to respond.

  “I can see your perspective, and you have a point,” he said, “I’m willing to admit that. However, you don’t understand what it’s been like. He’s just been so difficult. I had no other recourse unless I committed suicide. It was either that or murder him.”

  He studied my face as if to determine what I thought of his explanation.

  He wants to see if I’m buying it.

  “You could’ve moved out of state.”

  “No. I couldn’t have.” He looked like he was going to say more, but then he stopped himself.

  “Why stay here?” I asked. “Why did you get an apartment that was just a block away from him? I’m sorry, I just don’t buy that. Care to try again?”

  “I still care for him, don’t I? He needs somebody to look out for him.”

  I stared at George with unblinking eyes. I waited until after the silence had gotten awkward.

  “Is that why you murdered his girlfriend?” I asked.

  “I didn’t touch that woman.”

  “What is this really about?”

  “It was a mistake for me to come here.”

  “Your brother’s facing a murder charge. He’s going away for life unless I can find a way to prove that you were the one who committed the murder.”

  “What? I told you, I didn’t do this!”

  “Don’t play coy with me. I can read the truth in your face.”

  “It breaks my heart that he stabbed that poor girl with a kitchen knife.”

  My ears perked up.

  That was a fact that had been suppressed from the news. I would have to review the news reports on the case, but I was sure it had not yet been published.

  Did you get that, Winston? I wondered, trying hard not to look down at my shirt. I’d told him to call the detective on Fred’s case if I turned up anything useful.

  The detective was Stephanie Gray. A memory from another decade came to mind, but I pushed it away.

  The mention of the murder weapon was useful, but it wasn’t concrete. It wasn’t going to keep Fred out of jail, not by itself.

  “Yeah, you seem all broken up about it.” I licked my lips and rolled the dice. “We have somebody who saw you there on the night of the murder.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Impossible because you didn’t do it? Or impossible because nobody saw you?”

  George stared at me without responding, his hand with the mug of coffee halfway to his lips, starting to shake.

  “I had my investigator look into a few things, and I think I know why you are trying to set your brother up.”

  “This is ridiculous. I’m going.”

  I grabbed his hand. “Wait! I know that when Fred’s parents died, they left everything to him. They left you with absolutely nothing. Isn’t that so?”

  George stared at me with wild eyes. “And you think that establishes motive? Come on, I knew about that way in advance. They sat me down and told me they were worried about him, they said they didn’t
think that he would get far in life without a safety net.”

  I released his hand and leaned back. “I think I discovered your whole plan. You see, I figured out that the funeral you held was as fake as it comes. It was all one big charade just for your brother. According to the state and city records, you’re still very much alive. I even reached out to your employer and verified your employment. Now why would you want the state to think you’re alive?”

  I motioned to a man in a hat at the back of the restaurant. He approached and looked down at George.

  “Hello, brother.”

  8

  George swallowed and looked like I had somehow betrayed him.

  You have no idea, I thought.

  George looked like he was caught, but then I could see his mind working hard. A tapping sound came from under the table, and I noticed that his foot was moving faster than a running man.

  You didn’t expect to be confronted like this, did you?

  I couldn’t read his mind, but I assumed he was trying hard to come up with a probable explanation for his actions.

  “Fred!” George stood with a huge smile and outstretched arms.

  Fred stepped back. “Don’t you Fred me! I thought you were dead. I cried at your funeral. How about you sit down? You have some explaining to do.”

  George hesitated and crouched but didn’t look down. I tensed up, afraid that he might attack Fred.

  “I know what you’re thinking, you think that I faked my death, so I must’ve killed your girlfriend too.”

  George looked between me, Fred, and the door, and then, just when he looked like he was about to bolt, I took another risk.

  “The police are waiting out there for you, George.”

  9

  The table was quiet.

  “Impossible,” George said while looking at the door.

  “The detective responsible for investigating Fred’s case is two minutes away,” I said, “by now she knows everything you’ve done.” If Winston had not yet called her, that was his cue. “The only thing I haven’t told her is why you did it.”

  “I didn’t do anything! How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Of course, you did it.” I looked at Fred. “Have you figured it out yet?”

  Fred shook his head. “No. I’m at a complete loss. Jealousy maybe?”

  “There is a clause in your parent’s trust that if you go to jail or die,” I said quietly, “George becomes the primary beneficiary.”

  One moment everything was fine. The next Fred lunged at George.

  I pulled Fred off and got in between the two.

  The door to the diner open and Stephanie Gray came in with a couple of uniformed cops behind her.

  George looked like he was going to run, but Stephanie pulled out her pistol and pointed it at him before he could act. The other officers followed suit.

  “Hands in the air where I can see them!”

  At first, it looked like George was not going to respond, as if he was considering suicide by cop. He glanced over at Fred and then back at me, before he thrust his hands up into the air and was taken into custody.

  “Did Winston get you everything?” I asked Stephanie.

  “Yep.”

  Her face was grim, but that was her usual expression when she saw me. It had been years since she’d dumped me in law school, but whenever I saw her, it was like it had just happened yesterday. Without another word to me, she left with George in tow, reading him his rights as she went.

  “I’ll reach out to Frank Ward to get the charges against you dropped,” I said to Fred, as I sunk back down to finish my brownie and ice cream.

  It had never tasted better.

  The Good Client

  Criminal defense attorney Mitch Turner is awoken in the middle of the night by a message from his nerdy law school employee, Timothy Cooper, begging Mitch for help. Uncertain about the problem from Timothy’s cryptic texts, Mitch Turner slips into his suit and heads over to visit Timothy, unable to imagine any reason why Timothy would be calling for help at such a late hour. Mitch arrives to find the police at Timothy's apartment and learns that Timothy's roommate was murdered.

  Mitch immediately retrieves Timothy from the police before they can get him to say anything more and while in the process has a run-in with his ex-girlfriend who is now a detective. Mitch takes Timothy back to his office to debrief, but not long afterward, the police show up and arrest Timothy for the murder of his roommate.

  There are no witnesses. There are no other suspects.

  The police consider it an open and shut case, but the only thing that keeps Mitch from arranging a plea bargain is his belief that his client did not do it. The deeper Mitch digs, the more he learns that his client has secrets that he wants to be kept quiet at any cost, even at the expense of going to jail for something he did not do. Mitch soon learns he must work at odds with his client to provide the best legal representation possible, going around Timothy as he fights to keep his client out of jail.

  If you like legal thrillers, this novel is for you. Mitch Turner is a fast-talking lawyer who takes risks where others might not. Fans of John Grisham, Michael Connelly, and Scott Turrow will enjoy this story. Pick up your copy today!

  Author’s Note

  If you would like to receive notifications about other upcoming works, sneak peeks, and other extras, go to dandeckerbooks.com and sign up for my newsletter. Finally, if you would like to reach out, please feel free to drop me a line at [email protected]. I always enjoy hearing from readers.

  Books by

  Dan Decker

  Science Fiction & Fantasy

  The Red Survivor Chronicles

  Red Survivor

  The Sawyer Gambit

  The Assassin in the Hold

  The McClellan Colony

  The Phantom Torpedoes

  The Ambush on Kural 2

  Monster Country:

  Vince Carter Chronicles

  Monster Country: Genizyz

  Monster Country:

  Parry Peter Chronicles

  Monster Country: Recruit (Novella)

  Monster Country: Delivery (Novella)

  Dead Man’s War

  #1: Dead Man’s Game

  #2: Dead Man’s Fear

  War of the Fathers Universe

  Prequel: Blood of the Redd Guard

  Volume One: War of the Fathers

  Volume Two: Lord of the Inferno

  Volume Three: Enemy in the Shadows

  East Wind (Short Story)

  The Containment Team

  Volume One: Ready Shooter

  Volume Two: Hybrid Hotel

  Thrillers

  Jake Ramsey Thrillers

  Black Brick

  Dark Spectrum

  Blood Games

  Silent Warehouse (Short Story)

  Nameless Man (Short Story)

  Money Games (Short Story)

  Mitch Turner Legal Thrillers

  The Good Client

  The Mugger (Short Story)

  The Hostage Negotiator (Short Story)

  Other Short Stories:

  Monkey House

  The Hikers

  Exit

  Grizzly Wolf

  About the Author

  Dan Decker lives in Utah with his family. He has a law degree and spends as much time as he can outdoors. You can learn more about upcoming novels at dandeckerbooks.com.