Spirit (Blackwood Security, #10.5) - Elise Noble Page 0,20
his inside pocket. Sounds a lot, but it was basically seven folded sheets of paper, soaked with several grams of liquid in total. Anyhow, he got convicted for drug distribution and sentenced to life in prison without parole because of his two previous convictions. The law’s stipulations meant the judge couldn’t consider mitigating factors, such as Luis’s age or lack of violent conduct. So twenty-three years ago, Montero senior had been sent to FCI Petersburg, and there he’d been languishing ever since.
The problem was, there were no grounds for appeal. The law as it stood was clear, and Luis admitted he’d committed the crime. José’s shyster of a lawyer must have known that, and still he’d taken his money. Honestly, if I’d been in charge, I’d have given that prick a longer sentence than Luis.
“It’s a difficult situation. We’re seeing if there’s any way we can arrange a special visit on Christmas Day. It’s possible the warden might make an exception.”
“José would love that. Even though his father’s been behind bars for nearly his whole life, José says he’s his best friend. I don’t think José’s ever missed a Sunday visit, apart from one time when there were riots at the prison and they closed the whole place down. That was a terrible week. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so worried.”
“Hopefully the warden will show a little compassion, especially if Mr. Montero is a model prisoner.”
Being honest, I wasn’t sure about the compassion part, but Oliver, my own lawyer, had heard the guy was a big fan of the Washington Nationals. Now we just had to work out whether he was bribable or not.
“José says his pop does his best to stay out of trouble.”
“Then let’s hope we can work something out.”
I dropped Dan off at the office and carried on to Riverley. Alex, my personal trainer, had a torture session planned for me this afternoon. Being an assassin wasn’t all fun and games, you know. But today did have its plus points—Black had called on the drive back, and he was about to board a plane. He’d be home this evening, thank goodness.
I’d been missing him like crazy.
The phone rang again as I walked up the front steps, and I made my own wish. Please don’t let the flight be cancelled. But it wasn’t Black’s number on the screen.
“Hold for the president.”
“Don’t be a dick, James.”
“Aw, come on. There have to be some perks to the job.”
Some, but not as many as you’d think. Although he’d never come out and said so, I secretly suspected that James was quite lonely in the White House. All those people around, but he had nobody to actually talk to, nobody that he trusted anyway. Most politicians would smile to your face and then stab you in the back. And although James was married, he had little in common with his wife. Diana was a pretty figurehead, there to fulfil a role, and I had to concede she did an excellent job as First Lady. She’d made it her mission to tackle child poverty, but few knew the reason that her speeches were so heartfelt was because she’d once been in the gutter herself. She hid her past well. We all did.
Perhaps that loneliness was why James phoned me? The calls had grown more frequent in the last year, much to Black’s annoyance—mostly a few snatched minutes here and there, but occasionally a longer conversation. Once, it had been Black who James rang for a chat. They’d grown up together, been best friends at school, and I’d always regret coming between them. Back then, I hadn’t realised the damage I’d do.
“Sorry, I’m just not feeling the Christmas joy today.”
“Still trying to work out how to get Black to serve lunch to the seniors? You know I’d offer, but the Secret Service would shit themselves.”
James was joking but also serious. If he was still a senator, he’d have shown up and helped out. Adhering to the dress code might prove awkward what with the number of camera phones around, but for sure he’d make Joan and Doris smile.
“And also Black might kill me,” James continued.
“True. Especially since the waiters are meant to be shirtless.”
Hmm. That actually gave me a seed of an idea. James wasn’t the only ex of mine who could charm the ladies…
“Are you kidding?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Dan might as well give me the fifty bucks now.”
“Oh, come on. You know she doesn’t give up that easy.”
Neither did I, and since I