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Gonzalez was leaning forward now, obviously out of patience.

“It’s not your choice any longer, Ms. Winston. And in fact you have only two options. One, refuse to serve, in which case I will immediately file a complaint with our Attorney Regulation Counsel — OARC, for violating rules Rule 1.16, Rule 1.1, and Rule 1.3, or two, take this case precisely as you volunteered to do and do a competent job of being a lawyer, which… oh, by the way… includes being an officer of the court, which includes being competent to represent a criminal defendant.”

“I would think as many times as that attitude has been struck down in this country, it would be judicial misconduct to appoint an unqualified lawyer!”

“Thank you for accusing me of judicial misconduct! But guess what? I’m the judge, and this judge can, and will, throw your posterior in jail on contempt if you sass me like that one more time.”

She couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping slightly. “My… posterior? Did you say…”

“You’re in my chambers, Winston, you’re pissing me off big time, and we’re off the record. I can say anything to you I decide to say. But relax. I’m just a common street judge retained by the people. Worse, I’m not a member of your waspy, yuppie club. You, on the other hand, are legal royalty, aren’t you? The chosen one? The Ivy League lawyer pulling in a half million a year helping corporate fat cats screw those same unwashed and sometimes undocumented people who keep me on the bench? No wonder you don’t want to take three or four months out to try a criminal case and get your hands dirty.”

“Good Lord, is that what this is about? Some sort of class discrimination?”

“No, Winston, it’s about public service. Pro bono publico. Not about attending some annual auction for the untouchables and buying a case of Chardonnay for Christ. You know what? Newsflash, lady. You take the same oath the criminal bar takes, and yet you shoulder few, if any of the criminal defense responsibilities. I, for one, have had enough of it!” He was rising from his oversized chair now, his squat frame and overabundant girth failing to provide the towering image that was playing in his head — the omnipotent state district judge about to put the entirety of the fancy corporate lawyers in their place.

“So, make your choice, Judy. Make your head go up and down and say, ‘Yes, your Honor, I will faithfully represent this defendant I’ve agreed to represent.’ Or, prepare to fight a professional misconduct charge.”

She’d hated herself all the way back to Boulder for caving in, and for a moment had considered storming into the firm’s home office in Denver to call an emergency conference. But setting it up by phone on the drive back worked better, and she was loaded for bear when she finally pushed through the doors of her Boulder office. She aimed herself like a runaway train at the plush teleconference room.

It had been Roger Crandall who’d screwed her. The supposedly revered senior partner who had called her in and, she thought, gently rebuked her for falling short of the fifty hours of annual pro bono work. It had been his idea to suggest she take a criminal case that was undoubtedly going to get tossed before trial. That assurance made her nervous, but so did Crandall, and in the end it was just another item on the daily agenda to inform the court that she would take the case as defense attorney.

The first few minutes of the conference call were spent on her impassioned and outraged soliloquy, followed by ten minutes of silence while her two senior partners departed the Denver side of the videoconference, allegedly to answer other calls. A thinly disguised ploy, she figured, to let her cool down while they undoubtedly discussed the liability of having excitable women as lawyers. The thought was anything but amusing.

The two men returned to the other side of the screen, one the perpetrator, the other his cheerful accomplice.

“Okay, now we need you to calm down a bit, Judith, and look at this logically.”

“What?” She was coming forward in her chair, already irritated at what they’d probably said in the hallway.

“I mean, really now, just take a breath. I know you’re furious, but we need logic.”

The impeccably dressed senior partner on the other end of the video connection glanced at the other greying male and toyed with the pen in his hand before looking back at her — or at least at the image of her playing on their corresponding screen. The furnishings of a typically opulent corporate law office were visible in the background through the glass wall behind the men, and she knew they were looking at a much more tranquil scene framing the front range of the Rockies visible behind her in their satellite office.

Judith let out a long breath.

“Okay, gentlemen, I’m breathing. But I’m also seething, because you tricked me! This was supposed to be a grand gesture that would evaporate with this stupid prosecution. but it isn’t evaporating! I’m getting the clear impression that neither of you is ready to throw this firm’s might behind getting me out of this stupidity.”

Jenks Walters, the firm’s cofounder chuckled. “Well, the way I see it, other than risking a humiliating defeat at the appeals court trying to get you out of this with the media watching, our choices are rather limited. Essentially, we could offer the judge a job at the firm, or we could have him killed. The first solution would get us a lawyer who hasn’t practiced law in twenty years, and I’ll bet a sensitive part of my anatomy he’d be a bastard to work with; and, the second option would put us all in prison.” He jerked around toward Roger Crandall and arched his eyebrows. “You see any advantage in either of those, Rog?”

Crandall’s sharp features and humorless expression didn’t change as he stared through the electronic ether to meet her eyes.

“Here’s the deal, Judith,” Crandall said, his words typically crisp, fired at the screen like small, verbal bullets. “I pushed you to do this thinking it was, indeed, going to go away. Gonzales was asking for help, and…”

“Whoa! Wait!” she said, coming forward in the chair she’d finally sunk into. “He came to you?”

Roger Crandall shook his head. “No, we saw each other at a civic function, I’ve tried cases before him many times, and he was lamenting his inability to get good counsel for this airline pilot.”

“You are aware he thinks we’re Gucci-clad fat cats, right? You know he loathes us?”

“That’s his official attitude. That’s the kind of class nonsense that gets him reelected.”

“So, what, he’s a drinking buddy of yours and a member of the country club?”

“No, Judith, he’s a hardworking judge and he was obviously worried about this defendant, and, quite frankly, talking way out of school, worried about Richardson.”

“So, you volunteered me? Seriously? Without discussing it? I mean, hell, Roger, I am a partner even if you’re the king.”

“Judith, I did not volunteer you. I told him I might be able to arrange something, and I took a look at our pro bono commitments thinking I could peel away one of our brightest associates, and guess who I found hadn’t been holding up her end for the last two years?”

“Goddammit, you lied to me Roger.”

“I did no such thing. And I am not about to support any attempt to use the appellate courts to overrule Gonzales’ decision not to release you. The appellate judges will not look kindly on our making a big deal out of a case that is already a national embarrassment for Colorado and a narcissistic overreach by the DA.”

“Narcissistic is hardy the word for it, Rog,” Jenks Walters snorted. “Trying to convict an airline pilot who had to make a tough choice is a gross abuse of power.”