Zoe Caine Legal Thriller 01-A Time for Justice Read online

  A TIME FOR JUSTICE

  A Zoe Caine Legal Thriller

  FREYA ATWOOD

  Contents

  About the book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Extended Story

  Also by Freya Atwood

  Loved this book so far?

  About the Author

  Two Exciting Gifts Await You

  Thank you for purchasing my book! It means so much to me and it strongly encourages me to keep writing.

  As a gift for your loyalty, I have written a book for you called “The Price of Justice”. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get it for free by clicking this link here.

  * * *

  And let me not forget about a second gift that you can get for free on Amazon!

  “Pursuit of Justice” is available for all of you by clicking this link here.

  Freya Atwood

  About the book

  A TERRIBLE CRIME was committed in a facility for troubled youth. When a lawyer decides to unveil it twenty years later, she must fight against her family and city to find the truth…

  * * *

  As a stubborn and quick-witted lawyer, Zoe Caine has been trying to catch her big case for far too long. And the chance presents itself, the moment a traumatized woman begs her to uncover a horrifying injustice committed by the town’s beloved people. An unspoken crime Zoe knows firsthand.

  * * *

  Contemplating whether she should risk her career, Zoe soon learns that nothing remains secret. When the woman is found injured and near-dead, she decides to investigate. Only to find a truth that should have remained hidden away. They were raised in the same abusive facility. Twenty years ago.

  * * *

  The case has turned personal and Zoe knows she only has one chance to make this right. And when people threaten her life, the court is her only hope. Until the corruption that follows…

  Chapter 1

  Back to Reality

  * * *

  “HEY, you look like you saw a ghost,” said Morven.

  “I don’t feel good,” I said. There is a pain in my stomach from something that I ate. I tried to remember what I had for breakfast that morning or what they gave me after that, but my mind won’t work that way.

  “Come here, silly,” said Morven. She reached out and took my hand, pulling me over to the sofa. When she wrapped her arms around me, it was the only thing that stopped me from running from this place. I don’t know why, but I felt safe with her.

  “When are we getting out of here?” I asked.

  “Never,” she replied with a straight face. There is a pause, and we both burst out laughing. I had no idea what is so funny, but I can’t help the laughter from exploding from me, and the more Morven laughed, the more I laughed.

  I don’t know what I would have done without her in here with me. My mind didn’t have to work as long as I had her by my side. I looked around the room, trying to make it out, but everything is blurred. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a window, but it changed to a wall when I look directly at it. There was a person to my left, but when I look there—an empty chair. I looked back at Morven. She was real. I could see and feel her, smell her scent. I clung to her more tightly, my arm wrapped in hers and my head on her shoulder.

  I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t for some reason. And I fall. Not a fall like in a dream where you are falling from a great height to the ground below that never comes up to meet you. I fall from where I am sitting onto the soft cushion of the couch, but the dread from the fall is the same as the one that comes in nightmares.

  “No!” I screamed. Morven is gone. I scanned the room, but she is not there. I don’t see anyone out of the corner of my eye anymore, and the fear plunged into my heart like a dagger. I closed my eyes and tried and make it all go away.

  A hand took mine—Morven had returned. When I opened my eyes, I gasped. Morven is not there. Two men stood before me, one holding my hand and one with something else. Is it a syringe? I can’t see. Behind them is a third man with beady eyes.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over it as if from nowhere. There is a nip in my arm, and, for a moment, everything is bright and clear, but that soon faded, and the light dimmed. Not enough for me to be blind, but dim enough that I can only see shapes.

  The sound of the drill cut through me, and my body started to shudder. The whirring sound intensified, and I could feel the air pushed from the circular saw as it came close to my head. There was pressure in my skull, but no pain anymore. Only numbness and a sense of resignation. They got me again.

  I sit up in bed, the sweat beading on my forehead. The notebook and paper sit next to my bed, and I scramble for them, trying to recollect the details of the dream before they slip from my mind. I open the book and scribble ‘Morven’ on the page. It joins the same scribblings of her name, and I struggle to retain any of the dream. I can’t see her face anymore, where we were, or what was happening.

  There is pressure behind my eyes, and I bring my hand up to rub my temples. I have a migraine coming on, and my first stop is the bathroom to grab a couple of painkillers. While waiting for them to kick in, I jump in the shower and start my day.

  When I emerge, the migraine is gone, but so is any memory of the dream, except for the name. The name comes back and back, over and over again—a name that I will never forget, even if they tried to make me.

  The day is young, and the sun is only just poking out above the horizon, but it is warm and bright, and I find some joy in the early morning as I make my way to work. The bus is busy as usual, but the ride is not long, and I soon escape into the fresh air again.

  It’s Monday morning, which means that I’m going to need some caffeine to get me started. I head into the coffee shop on the corner and grab a coffee for myself and one for Hadijah. I’ve done my best over the years to isolate myself and lose my friends, but as long as I bring her coffee every so often, she sticks around. It could be that she is my assistant, but I like to believe that it’s the coffee.

  My bag is looped around my arm, and I carry a coffee in each hand after refusing the carry tray, but, thankfully, someone holds the door open for me, and I can press the elevator button with the coffee in hand. When I get to the fourth floor, my happiness starts to drain.

  I’ve been working in the same law office for over ten years. I’ve seen people come and go, most off to greener pastures or promoted. I wish that I could say the same for myself. Ten years and I’m still stuck in the same position. I wish I could blame someone else, but I’ve not done anything to drag myself up—stagnating for years. I want to turn and walk out, but I don’t. I need this job.

  “Morning,” Hadijah says when I get to my office. She’s ten years older than me, but she has still retained a youthful look. It could be the hijab. There have been a couple of occasions when I’ve seen her hair, and there are streaks of grey in
there, but with her hair covered, her unblemished face is highlighted, and she looks a decade more youthful.

  “Good morning,” I say, trying to sound more excited about the day than I actually am. “I brought you this.” I place the coffee down on my desk, and Hadijah breaks out into a smile. That only serves to make her look even younger.

  When I looked in the mirror this morning, I almost didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. My red hair doesn’t have any streaks of gray in it, but it doesn’t have any volume. Again, that is on me. I was beautiful once—piercing green eyes, thin, pale smooth skin. If I put the effort in, I could look good, but I don’t have the motivation. I still have the piercing eyes, but my body is sharp and lithe instead of slim, and my skin is starting to wrinkle.

  I had imagined at one time that I would be the type of woman who would exude confidence and be happy with my body, and that confidence would be sexy, but I never got round to the exuding confidence part.

  “Hey, hun, you okay?” asks Hadijah. “The wall is interesting and all, but you’ve been staring at it for a full minute.”

  “You have a family, don’t you?” I ask.

  “You know I do. You’ve met my little girl. Well, not so little anymore.”

  “Yeah, no, I mean extended family. Siblings, aunts, uncles, that sort of thing.”

  “I have a sister back home, but I don’t get to visit her as much as I would like. My husband’s family is here, and we get on pretty well. There are always disagreements, but that’s normal, right?”

  “In most families,” I say. “My sister and brother… well, I don’t know.”

  “Families are hard,” she says. “You can share if you think it would help.”

  “They just—” I rub my face with my free hand, thinking about the two of them. “They are beyond hope. It’s fine, I’m just stressed, is all. I need this case.”

  “I know. You’d kill—” Hadijah clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was in bad taste.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “I know what you mean, and I’ll take the compliment. I should get to work.”

  “About that,” Hadijah says. “She was here when I showed up, and she wouldn’t leave without seeing you first. She said that she knew you and that you would take her case.”

  “Did she say who she was?” I ask.

  “No, she didn’t leave any details. She stormed into your office when she found out which one it was. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” I say. “How’d she look?”

  “I don’t really know. Scared and jittery. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t want to reach out and touch her at the same time. She was a little scary, to be honest, and I can take care of myself.”

  “Let’s see the woman who has put the fear of God into Hadijah,” I say. “Stay close.” I try to make the last part sound like a joke, but I do want Hadijah with me, just in case. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has come into my office and then flipped out.

  I creep slowly to the door and look inside. The woman sitting in the seat on this side of my desk is small and hunched. There is a folder on the table that she must have brought with her. Her head is angled to suggest that she is staring down at it. In front of her, her hands move constantly. She moves her fingers together and apart, intertwining them and then flexing them. She moves them to the chair’s arm, to her hair to tuck it behind her ear, and to scratch at her shoulder, leg, chest—all of this in only ten or twenty seconds.

  I look around at Hadijah and nod my head. She goes back to her desk, and I enter the room. I give the woman in the chair a wide berth, scared that she will reach out and grab me as I pass. She does not move, except for the small jittery movements of her hands.

  * * *

  She doesn’t look at me or say anything when I round my desk. I sit down in my chair and stare at her. “Hello,” I say. “I’m Zoe Caine.”

  “Yes, I know who you are. We go way back.” She still does not look at me, but her eyes seem to take in everything in the room, looking wildly around in every direction but unable to look directly at me. She stares out of the window as if she is being watched.

  “I’m afraid that I don’t believe we have met,” I say.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she replies. She looks down at the folder in front of the two of us, but she does not volunteer any more information.

  “Do you need legal representation?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she whispers. This is when she finally looks up at me, and she leans forward as if she is going to tell me a secret. I can’t help but lean forward to hear what she has to say. She does not say anything for a few seconds, and I begin to think that she’s not got anything to say. “It’s all in here.” She taps the folder on the table.

  “Can you give me a little more information on what you need from me?” I ask.

  “They abused me,” she says. “They, they, were supposed to be taking care of me, but they abused me. Not just me, hundreds more. Thousands more. I don’t know… how deep this goes, but everyone is involved. The police! The mayor! Oh, he’s involved for sure.”

  “The mayor?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows.

  “What am I doing here?” she asks. Her eyes swim for a second before she can focus again. “You don’t believe me, do you? They’re trying to silence me. I know that they are. They’re going to kill me!”

  “I don’t doubt anything you are saying,” I say, doubting everything she is saying.

  “You do. You do, you do, you do,” she says. “L… l… look, I know I sound crazy, but I’m not.” Her tone changes, like a new person sitting in front of me. Her eyes focus on me, and she looks more… human. There is clarity there that was not there before. “Please, I know that you understand what it is like. I don’t care about myself anymore. I just want to make sure that this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

  “All right,” I say, pulling the folder toward me. “Look, I’ll be honest with you, I already have a big case that I’m working on.” That’s not entirely the truth, but if things go my way, it will be. “If I can fit this in, I’ll take a look. Even if I can’t dedicate enough time to it, I can pass it on to someone else.”

  There is silence again, and she stares at me this time. “Don’t pass it on,” she finally says. “You are the only one who can help with this case.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I say.

  “I have to get out of here before—” The woman rises from the chair, and it is evident that she does not believe me. The shaking and jittering of her hands have stopped. She walks to the door but turns to face me before she leaves.

  “Don’t take too long with this,” she says. “I’ll be dead soon.”

  Chapter 2

  No Future

  * * *

  I DON’T HAVE time to go through the folder straight away, but I add it to the pile of files on my desk that need my attention. That pile seems to grow constantly, no matter how much work I do. Morning stretches into afternoon, and it starts to feel as if I have done nothing with my day so far—only some clerical tasks, but nothing of substance. I’ve been keeping my schedule light for a reason.

  As the longest-serving team member, I deserve to get this case. There haven’t been many big cases in this town, but a serial killer? Hadijah was right that it was a case that I would kill for. I need something after the last few years. Parking fines, wills, contracts—not exactly exciting stuff. This could get me back to where I once was.

  The sunlight coming in through the window hurts my eyes, and I stand up, rubbing them. I have a lack of motivation running through my body, and I need another coffee. I don’t have time to go down to the coffee shop, and I don’t want to send Hadijah out, but there is a coffee machine in the office. It uses those little pods, and the coffee is half-decent.

  I make my way to the small kitchen, and I can hear some chatter coming from there as I approach. I could do with some small talk to take my mind from, well, everything. The woman who was in my o
ffice this morning, the dream from last night, the fact that I’ve been passed over for promotion after promotion and don’t seem to land the high-profile cases anymore, or any cases above low profile.

  “She’s going to be replaced sooner or later,” comes the voice from the kitchen area. I hang back, standing just around the corner. There are a lot of gossips in the office, and while I don’t like it, it can give some insight into office politics. I know I shouldn’t stand and eavesdrop, but I can’t help myself.

  “You think so?” comes the other voice. That voice I recognize straight away. Melissa is relatively new at the firm, but she came with a track record of cases, and it’s almost certain that she’s going to be a partner in the future. She’s going to be a partner and not me.

  “Yeah, she’s just not doing the work anymore.” The other person sounds like Joan, one of the partners. She arrived after I did, and she was promoted two years ago. I try not to be bitter, but it’s hard.

  “I know what you mean. She walks around here like a ghost sometimes.”

  A feeling lodges itself in the pit of my stomach, and I want to run from the building, but I can’t pull myself away. I know exactly who they are talking about.

  “She’s been through some things. When she was younger— Well, it’s not my place to say, but I do have some sympathy for her. Saying that, she needs to get her act together, not that it will do any good.”

  “She’s one of the reasons that I came to the firm in the first place. I read up on some of her old cases in school. The shipping magnate, the statewide school fiasco, and so many more. I expected her to be tough and all that, but I didn’t expect this. She’s taught me so much, but… they say not to meet your heroes, right?”