*Set You Free

Intro: I have always felt bad that lawyers have a bad rap. There are some that are skuzzy, but there was a time when there was more honor to the name of lawyer. There are plenty of good lawyers out there.

“Did you kill Mr. Jorge?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t keep my pen from slipping on the paper. My client already had my signature. I was under his spell. Not for the first time, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I thought I was better at reading people.

Mr. Trent sat across the table from me, his hands clasped and resting on his knees. When he first approached me about representing him in court, I had done my own research on them. He was divorced, his wife remarried, but overall the relationship between exes was better than most. The couple could almost be friends and happy; they just couldn’t be married and happy.

“Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Jorge.”

“He was my neighbor. We shared a property line.” He shifted on his seat, never meeting my gaze. “I found him stealing my water to irrigate his lawn. He’d been doing it for years.”

“How did it escalate?”

The man looked up, and met my gaze. “I asked him to stop. He didn’t.”

“So—” I motioned, not sure I wanted him to continue.

“I killed him. I calculated it out. Over the course of fifteen years, he had stolen almost two million dollars’ worth of water. I gave him an ultimatum give me my money or I take him to court.” Mr. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, his hands brushing his worn collar. “He burned my field then told me I didn’t need any more water.”

I flipped through my papers. There had been some damage to his property, a third of an acre. Mr. Trent had sixty five acres. From the reports it showed that it was probably a lightning strike.

“I was tired of the problem. I took my gun, and shot him.” He held up his hands as if sighting something in the corner of the room.

I put my papers down. As a lawyer it was my obligation to represent my client to their interests. I always told myself that I would never defend a guilty man. I wouldn’t become a lawyer that could be bought. But my signature was on a contract that tied me from divulging information told to me in confidence. That would be about the same as testifying against yourself.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Hunsacker?” Mr. Trent pressed his hands against the table. There was a glint in his eye that made me sit back in my chair. “You wouldn’t be thinking about turning me in, would you?” He reached down and pulled out a piece of paper. “I have a piece of paper here that says you will represent me fairly.”

I nodded, my stomach sinking. My career was over. Mr. Trent let out a smile and sat back.

“I’m glad we see—”

“I am sure you will be much happier with someone who wants to see you go free. If you will excuse me. I am leaving.”

“You’ll never work as a lawyer again.”

I ran my hands along the paper. “Not in a court. But I am sure there are plenty of innocent people who could do with a bit of advice.”

As I walked out, I felt a little lighter.