Page 11 of Tequila Tuesdays
I sighed. “Yeah, I’d probably be mad too.”
“So you’re ready to apologize, then?” I jumped a little and lost my rhythm. Damien stood right behind me.
“Goddamn it, quit sneaking up on me.”
He folded his arms and grinned. “I didn’t know you worked out here, Legs. Are you training for volleyball season? Because you should know, it’s not you, it’s the rest of your team who needs the training.” Damien got on a treadmill next to Sebastian. He was already sweaty. He must be one of those people who did cardio last instead of first.
“No shit, Sherlock. I’m well aware of that. Their main motivation isn’t to win though…” I stopped talking.
“What is it?” He ran while he talked to me.
“Other things.”
Damien gave me an exasperated look, but he didn’t push.
Sebastian slowed down and walked for a minute, then got off the treadmill. “I’m done. See you at the office.” He walked out.
I adjusted the bike settings. “He’s not much of a talker, is he?”
Damien smirked. “Nope. He talks to Laurel though.”
“Pretty sure they do more than talking.”
“Pretty sure you’re right.”
We exercised for a few minutes in silence, then I wound down and got off to go get some strength training in.
“Whatisyour team’s motivation if it isn’t to win?” Damien asked as he pounded away on the treadmill.
“To just make it through another week. One day at a time. See you in a couple of weeks.” I absently rubbed the small scar on my cheekbone.
As I lifted weights, I thought about my volleyball team and an annoying, tenacious man with gray eyes and a dimple. I was blissfully unaware I’d soon have to swallow my pride and ask Damien to use his tenacity to help me with a case.
Chapter 5
ThenextTuesdayafternoon,I walked out of court and ran right into Dimples. Again.
On the second and fourth Tuesday of every month, Judge Perez held a juvenile drug court staffing meeting followed by the review hearing. All the professionals who made up the juvenile drug court team came together and discussed the kids’ progress and issues before the hearing, which was held with the kids and their parents. I’d taken over as the juvenile drug court public defender last year.
The minors in drug court usually had serious substance abuse issues and had been charged with drug-related offenses. I represented them as they worked through treatment and drug testing in return for a plea in abeyance, which meant if they completed treatment and stayed clean, their charges were dismissed at the end of the program. That was the hope anyway.
But my clients were young, hormone-driven teenagers with addiction issues. I never knew what they were going to do from one week to the next.
Wendy Wood, the DCFS worker, sat on my right during the staffing meeting. Wendy had dark red hair and several tattoos, and the minors adored her. Christian Yates, the prosecutor assigned to the juvenile drug court, sat on my left. He had a nice, dry wit and reasonable expectations. He also had a deep and abiding passion for fishing that I didn’t pretend to understand.
Pauley Wilson, the drug treatment supervisor, sat across from us. He was my least favorite person on the drug court staffing team. I wasn’t sure why he even worked in juvenile court because he had a short temper and he wasn’t very patient. And most of these kids required a lot of patience.
Judge Perez looked through the progress reports for each minor. He let out a drawn-out sigh, and I knew he’d just gotten to my client, Darla Jensen’s report.
“Well, I can’t say there weren’t signs. But a marijuana grow box in her closet, with commercial-grade HID lights? Where did she get all the supplies?”
Wendy looked over her notes. “I called her mom and talked to her yesterday. Her dad works in landscaping and thought it was nice Darla seemed to be interested in gardening.”
I sat back. “He didn’t know the lights and box were for marijuana. The high-intensity discharge lights should’ve tipped him off though.” It was amazing how naive some parents were.
Christian shook his head. “If she spent half as much time and effort on her treatment and homework, she’d be a straight B student and through with the treatment program by now.”
Pauley clucked his tongue. “Judge, she needs a felony distribution charge along with the possession and paraphernalia charges. And she should spend a few days in jail. Darla isn’t taking this seriously and never has.”
