RECLAIM MY HEART(8)

She blanched, but then her spine straightened. “I’m not the one who needs a lawyer. I want to hire you, yes. But I’m not the one needing representation. It’s my son who’s in trouble.” A nerve at the corner of her eye ticked, but her gaze never veered from his as she added, “Our son, Lucas.”
CHAPTER THREE
It was rumored that Judge Marvin Taylor ate a pound of ten-penny nails for lunch every day—right after putting the hammer to at least a half-dozen delinquent teens every morning.
Because he specialized in corporate law, Lucas had minimal experience representing minors, and those cases had been forced on him when kids of clients had wound up in trouble. Shannon Reeves was a good case-in-point. In every instance, though, he’d been successful in having the charges reduced or dismissed simply by finding the right words to say to the right people in the DA’s office and by talking to the judge. However, the judge presiding over Zach’s case had refused his calls. The man wouldn’t even talk with Lucas about the charges his son was facing.
His son. The phrase made Lucas’s gut clench, and he turned his head to glance for what felt like the hundredth time at the grim teen seated next to him at the defense table. There was no denying the kid was his.
Lucas faced forward when the gavel struck wood.
“No, Mr. Hawk, I will not meet with you in chambers. I like to do business out in the open. Where everyone can hear and know what’s going on.” The Honorable Judge Taylor peered over his eyeglasses directly at Zach. “I do like for people to understand exactly what’s happening and why.” He pulled off his glasses, took a moment to buff them on his sleeve, and then perched them back on his nose as he returned his attention to Lucas. “There’s nothing you could say to me in there, Counselor, that can’t be said out here.”
So the man wasn’t only hard-hearted, he was also a jackass. Lucas stood. “May I at least approach the bench?”
It was a desk, really. The Juvenile Courtrooms were small, almost intimate, as public audiences were barred from proceedings involving minors.
The judge sighed, loud and long, and waved both lawyers forward.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Lucas murmured. “If you’ll hear me out, I think you’ll agree that this case has some…?special circumstances.”
The prosecutor from the District Attorney’s office was a woman just short of retirement whom Lucas had met with only once in another case involving a minor. He remembered her as being firm but fair. Her smile bolstered Lucas, but the judge remained silent and stone-faced.
“Your Honor, I’ll get right to the point. Zachary Whitlock is my son.” He paused. “I met him for the first time this morning.”
The opposing attorney’s gaze widened, but Judge Taylor’s expression remained unmoved. Not much fazed Lucas, but he hadn’t expected indifference.
“I understand you have a reputation of being tough. Even on first time offenders. But I ask you to bear in mind that—”
“What you need to bear in mind,” Taylor countered, leaning forward and speaking loud enough for all to hear, “is that this young man is in my courtroom today because he broke the law. Special circumstances or not. Go back to your seats.”
Lucas felt stung as he made the short trek back to the table. Tyne’s troubled gaze locked onto him. He would have liked to offer her some encouragement; a smile, cira nod, something. But he couldn’t find a reason to.
“Don’t get me wrong.” The Judge slid his gavel several inches to his right. “I’m pleased that you’re enjoying a family reunion. I sincerely hope something good comes of it. But that doesn’t change the fact that the fifteen-year-old sitting, well, slouching there—”
Zach shifted in his seat.
“—chose to associate with three known criminals. He chose to deface public property. He’s costing the tax payers money. I am sick to death of petty crime, and I firmly believe that every criminal act that goes unpunished only paves the way further into a life of unlawful conduct. If someone doesn’t give me a solid reason not to, I plan to punish this young man to the fullest extent of the law. Zachary Whitlock has admitted to behaving in a criminal manner. That is what we’re here to discuss. Isn’t that correct, Counselors?”
The Assistant State’s Attorney said, “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucas was forced to agree.
“Fifteen years old and hanging out with common criminals at midnight.” Judge Taylor leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Mr. Hawk, you say you just met your son for the first time this morning.”
“Yes, sir.” Lucas nodded. “We had breakfast at the coffee shop down the block.” Attempting to garner some sympathy, he added, “Although, we were too nervous to eat.”
Everyone except Tyne’s fiancé. The man had chowed down on a stack of pancakes as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Lucas might have felt a bit envious at that, if he hadn’t seemed so rock-stupid. But perhaps Lucas had been too quick to judge, and Rob had simply been too damned hungry to offer a single constructive idea regarding Zach’s problem.
“Tell me. What was your impression? Of your son, I mean.”
Lucas didn’t answer right away. He remembered the teen’s I-don’t-give-a-damn posture, his brooding air. Zach had scarcely said two words to him. Had barely looked at him, in fact, as Lucas and Tyne had quietly discussed the proceedings.
But the kid was on emotional overload. Who wouldn’t be? He’d met his father for the very first time this morning. He was also facing a courtroom and a judge and criminal charges. When a person was down in a valley as deep as Zach was, he had nowhere to climb but up.