Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Fifty-Four

Liam

The prosecutor slidesa thick file forward, jabbing at various documents as he speaks. “We’re looking at a minimum of five years jail time and fines of up to twenty-five thousand per fraudulent offense.”

I see Eliza’s father go completely stiff where he’s sitting across from me. Beneath the table, my wife’s sweaty palm clenches tighter around mine and her leg bounces in rhythm with my pounding heartbeat.

It’s forty-eight hours since I’ve been in Reno, and we’re seated around a scratched and scuffed conference table in the musty-smelling county prosecutor’s office. I wasn’t lying to Eliza’s father when I told him that I wasn’t leaving Reno until this mess is resolved. One call to my personal lawyer’s office is all it took to get the ball rolling. Fast.

Frank Lawman sits to my left, completely unfazed by the prosecutor’s intimidation efforts. “Not by the time I get you and your entire file laughed out of the courtroom.” He scoffs coolly.

My attorney discovered that, despite the Panama-hat wearing investigator dude being on Eliza’s tail, she was barely on the prosecutor’s radar. By practically turning herself in, I think we have a good shot of getting her out of this mess unscathed. I’m going to trust Frank on this. From my experience, the man never opens his mouth unless he knows what he’s talking about. I wouldn’t have this lawyer on retainer if he weren’t the best of the best.

I’ve tried explaining that to Eliza again and again. Still, her knee bounces anxiously next to me. I can’t blame her. It’s her freedom at stake here. I grip her hand, tightly interlacing our fingers as Frank and the temperamental prosecutor argue back and forth.

The old men go around in tireless circles disputing Eliza’s crimes and the required punishments.

Frank leans back and crosses his arms confidently. “Considering my client’s exceptional track record, the dire circumstances surrounding the time when the ‘alleged’ offenses were ‘allegedly’ committed and because the amounts totaled up to less than five-hundred thousand, we both know that she’s eligible to have everything expunged.”

I feel Eliza relax considerably next to me, only for her to tense back up as soon as the prosecutor opens his mouth again.

“Your client falsified federal loan documents, and I expect some form of punishment for those crimes. I just put a man away for fifty-seven months for loan falsification, a man who’d stole even less than Eliza did.”

“Mrs. Kline,” I interrupt him, my tone abrasive. “It’s Mrs. Kline.” I need this fucker to know that my woman has protection in her corner. She has the Kline name backing her up.

“Excuse me. Mrs. Kline.” He cuts his eyes at me.

Frank laughs heartily before his lips fall into a straight, unamused line. “Look at this woman and convince me that a judge is going to side with you.” He gestures toward Eliza with the dramatic flair of a model on the Price is Right. “It’s never going to happen. At most, Mrs. Kline will receive a few months of community service. Meanwhile, you’ll look like a fool and your office will be on the losing end of this mockery of a case.”

Mr. Alonso remains as quiet as a stone in his seat, his eyes closely tracking the bickering back and forth between the legal professionals. He may not understand the legal jargon but I see his fierce protectiveness in each of his measured breaths.

It’s clear Eliza can do no wrong in her family’s eyes. The Alonsos may think less of me, if they ever find out how my relationship with Eliza got started, but it’s obvious that they’d never condemn their oldest daughter for her actions.

After a few more minutes wasted arguing, our lawyer abruptly rises to his feet and grabs his briefcase, his not-so-subtle way of telling the prosecutor that he’s finished with this conversation. It’s a poker move if I’ve ever seen one.

“I will be getting each of these charges tossed out,” Frank announces, not an inkling of doubt on his face. “If you like your position here at the prosecutor’s office, I recommend you choose the winning side here, Mr. Pinkman.”

Mic. Drop. Lawyer-style.

My arm is draped territorially around Eliza’s shoulder as we file out of the prosecutor’s office with Frank and her father leading the way.

But when we’re seated in a private booth at a Jittery Joe’s coffee shop around the corner, Frank’s face goes solemn. Now that we’re no longer on center stage with the asshole prosecutor, my lawyer tells it to us straight, candidly explaining that we’re facing an uphill battle with this county office. But he’s dedicated to the case, and promises that Eliza’s file is in good hands. Despite his reassurances, my wife is practically shaking in her seat next to me.

“What about the loan sharks? If any of this goes public, they’re going to come looking for my daughter,” Mr. Alonso notes as he stirs his coffee, worry etched into his brow.

The lawyer’s eyes flick to mine, and I respond with a nod. “At my request, Frank did some digging into the Romanos on his flight over here this morning…” I announce to my father-in-law.

“You don’t have to worry about the Romano brothers anymore,” Frank says. “They are out of business now.”

“Out of business?” Eliza questions.

“I assure you, the Romanos are history,” Frank states. “The family—and their business—was robbed by and subsequently arrested by a small taskforce of crooked cops. It all happened just this morning. This information isn’t yet public knowledge.”

“All of them?” Eliza squeaks, her fingers clenching around her sweaty frosted latte.

“Yes, ma’am.” Frank nods. “And with the number of convictions among them and their partners, you will not be hearing from them any time in the next sixty to eighty years.”

The way the old man’s eyes glint, something tells me it isn’t a coincidence that my arch-rival got busted on the day we’re trying to negotiate a deal with the prosecutors concerning Eliza’s fate.

This lawyer is worth every golden coin I pay him.

Working with Frank Lawman over the years, I’ve learned not to ask questions I can’t handle the answers to.

I see the relief radiate off of Mr. Alonso. He gives a hard shudder. I can only imagine the stress he’s been under, trying to keep his family safe while indebted to these criminals the past few years.

Eliza and her father thank Frank profusely when he stands from the table to leave. Phone clutched in his hand, Mr. Alonso excuses himself to go relay all this information to his wife.

Once we’re alone, Eliza turns to me. “I’m still not sure about the prosecutor's charges, Liam. This doesn’t sound good at all.”

I turn and grip her beautiful face in both hands, smoothing the worry lines off her forehead with my thumbs. “Baby, I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” I promise her. “You heard the lawyer. They don’t have a solid case against you that will hold up with any decent judge. And if it comes to a community service sentence, then we’ll figure it out. Together.” She’s been doing all of this on her own too long.

No more of that. She’s got me on her team now.

“And what if I’m ordered to pay back the loans. That’s a lot of money. Especially with interest and—”

“If I have to cover the full amounts myself, I will.” I kiss her lips. “Anything, Eliza. Anything for you.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs before softly pressing her mouth to mine.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Wifey. Just trust that I’ve got this covered. And I’ve got you.”