Dead Lawyers Don't Lie (Jake Wolfe, #1)

by Mark Nolan

On the morning before attorney Richard Caxton was shot, he spent an hour in court doing what he did best—lying to the jury.

This time around, Caxton’s client was the son of a wealthy mortgage banker. Brice Riabraun had “allegedly” been driving under the influence of alcohol when he’d crashed his luxury SUV into the Tate family’s economy car. In court, Caxton claimed that the police had mishandled the case.

After arguing relentlessly for his version of the truth, Caxton listened to the court clerk read the jury’s verdict aloud and pronounce Riabraun not guilty. Judge Emerson frowned.

Caxton had to make an effort not to laugh. Brian Tate bolted from his chair and railed at the jury. “How could you find him innocent when he was driving with a 0.15 blood alcohol level? Witnesses said he drank seven beers before he crashed into our car and almost killed my wife and kids!”

Tate’s wife, Judy, sat next to him with her arm in a plaster cast. The twelve jurors seated in the jury box averted their eyes and didn’t reply to him. Tate turned and stared at Caxton and his client with the righ...

Judge Emerson slammed his gavel down. “Order! Sit down, Mr. Tate.” Caxton and his client just sat there gloating, and trying not to laugh at Tate, the workin...

teach you two a lesson—the hard way.” “Mr. Tate, that is enough!” Judge Emerson said as he banged his gavel again. “Do not test my patience, or you will find yourself held in contempt of court.” Tate took a deep breath and let it out, struggling for control. “Yes, Your Honor.” He sat down, but continued to glare at Caxton.

manicured fingernails, and the latest hairstyle. His suits, shirts, and ties were all custom-made by the finest tailors in the Financial District. Caxton was used to having that level of helpless anger leveled at him by now. He couldn’t have cared less about it. He’d earned a reputation

seek justice. He’d answered, “Yes, and how much justice can you afford to buy today?” “You are now free to go, Mr. Riabraun,” Judge Emerson announced. Riabraun grinned and

toward the front entrance of the court building with his head held high. He went outside and faced the news reporters and gave a brief but well-rehearsed speech. “Today, justice

was found not guilty by a jury in a court of law. Thank goodness we live in a country where lawyers can protect honest, hardworking people such as my client from false accusations.” Reporters yelled questions at Caxton, but he walked away, looking pious. His publicist would issue a statement to the press any

Photojournalist Jake Wolfe sat in his Jeep Grand Cherokee and watched Caxton walk toward the parking area. The television news station where Jake worked had assigned him to get photos or video of Caxton doing something scandalous. He’d been following the lawyer for days. Jake glared at the

but when she talked that way, Jake felt he might get over her and move on. For a moment, he considered quitting his job, cancelling the wedding, and borrowing a friend’s powerboat. A few weeks alone at sea might do him good. He shoved that reckless idea from his head and reminded himself to take life one day at a time. He was going to Stuart’s funeral tomorrow;

was observant, a people watcher, and as he waited for Caxton to drive out of the lot, he noticed an attractive, well-dressed woman who wore her gray hair in an updo. She reminded him of his own grandmother, so full of life and love and wisdom.

from her hand, shoved her to the ground, and took off running toward Jake’s vehicle. Jake opened his car door, shoving it fast and hard and straight-arming it like a football player. The door and the purse snatcher collided—and the door won. The thief’s face smacked into the window, his knees banging against the metal. He bounced off and landed flat on his back on the pavement,