The Afterparty, Feds and Lawyers, oh my!

You wake the next morning to the beeping of your cell phone. You grab it off the end table, yawn, and put it up to your ear. Kuhn's voice reverberates in your ears as he starts talking before you can even say hello.

"Are you OK, Ms. Stewart?"

"Yeah. I'm a bit less OK now that I'm up though. God, I'm so tired."

"Well, the background people report your client was arrested. No record of any others with him though. I figured I needed to get to the bottom of it."

You jam a few pillows between you and the backboard so you can sit up.

"Jules told me he'd be out this morning I think? He's supposed to call after noon sometime."

"Yeah. Well, it's 11 now, and what I've been told is the magistrate denied bail. Rare in our system with rich folks, but I guess it happened to him. Who is Jules?"

"A friend of Charles. We got separated last night. He went with a cop and. . . long story. What was he charged with?"

"Seems he was brought in on disturbing the peace and there was a federal warrant signed yesterday morning for him. The feds took custody and all those charges were about him paying some guy named Umberto Gonzales to smuggle labor in for some distillery."

You stand and walk around the room.

"Fucking wonderful! I hate hotels. I miss my coffee machine. Look is there anything else? I've gotta make a few calls. Scratch that, one call because Sue is the only client contact I have a number for."

"His wife? You know down there in Texas people are armed right? Your HR meeting isn't until next week so try not to need medical insurance until then OK?"

You laugh as you grab a terrycloth robe off the back of the bathroom door and pull it on over your underwear.

"Nah. She's a sweetheart. This was part of a deal they had. It doesn't matter, I'm still on contract for a day or so."

"Not if he stays in prison. I'll have to talk to the contract people. I don't know if it prorates or he forfeits the fee."

"Sure look into it, that could be important. I have to go, I need coffee and I need to talk to Sue."

"Ok. I'll text when I learn more. Just be ready to hop on a plane in case things get weird. Walker out."

You order some coffee from room service and dial Sue on your phone. She may be the only person that can straighten this out for you. She answers, efficient as always on the first ring. You can hear traffic in the background, she must be driving.

"Sue speaking."

"Hey, Sue. Simone Stewart here. . ."

"I'd ask what the heck happened last night but it doesn't seem important at the moment. I have a couple of lawyers down in El Paso trying to figure this all out but the lecher isn't going to be back before your contract runs out."

"Yeah. It's looking that way isn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, girl. I'll make sure the invoice is paid. To be honest, it may be for the best. This all might scare him straight."

You laugh, "Good luck with that!"

"Tell me about it! Anyway, you can head home. As I said, I'll get everything paid. You did what you were supposed to. You weren't the one that thought they could save a few bucks on labor."

"One last favor, Sue?"

"K. You can ask but no promises."

"Jules and Devon Lannister. Do you have a number I can get?"

"Yeah. I'll text it to you. Figures they were involved."

"Thanks, Sue. You're a doll!"

"Take care, sweety."

You exchange pleasantries and hang up. Then you hear a knock on the door and open it up. A young Latina girl is standing there with your coffee. You take it, hand her a twenty, and close the door. Then you sit at the small kitchen table and drink it. You savor the caffeine while you get your thoughts straight. Beckett in prison is bad. If Umberto Gonzales is the Umberto Jules talked about last night, things could be bad for her too. If the police start following breadcrumbs here, it may get worse for you. You knew you were coming to Austin to get screwed but hadn't expected it to take this form.

Enough procrastinating, the last call you have to make is to Jules. She may not exactly be a friend or anything but after last night you figure you owe her a heads up at minimum before you blow this popsicle stand. You pull the number from Sue's text and dial. It rings three times before you hear Jules answer.

"Hello, Darling. Quite a mess huh?"

"That's what I'm hearing. My agent got with me half an hour ago. Beckett's in some pretty deep shit, Jules."

"Yeah. I heard they moved him to El Paso but his wife already has lawyers down there. What exactly did they get him for?"

"That's what I called for. Sue gave me the number. Seems they think he was paying a man named Umberto Gonzales to smuggle folks in to work at the distillery."

You hear her laugh, "Fan-fucking-tastic! I best get my lawyers on speed dial. I've never asked him to get me cheap workers but I call him enough that any investigators are going to trace me soon enough. I'm telling you, Red. Men will just be the ruin of us all!"

You chuckle, "Could be I guess. Anyway, I figured I should let you know what's up. I suspect my agent will call me soon with ticket information. Maybe escaping Austin is my best move at this point? Sue already told me there's no way she's getting him back before the contract ends."

"Likely. Do me a solid please?"

"Ummm maybe? Prison orange really makes my skin look red and angry."

"Don't lose that sense of humor, girl! Just give me a call before you go? Devon left for Ireland this morning before we knew what was up. Even if he hopped another plane when he gets there, it'll be a day or two before he gets back. I just want to know when. . . You know, nevermind. This isn't your issue. Hop on that plane as soon as you can. I'm sure classes start Monday and you can slide right back into your routine."

You stare out the window, watching the cars roll by below. You aren't sure why you're feeling like a jackass right now but you do. From what little you know of Sue, she'll be fine. She has that no-nonsense attitude that's kinda like Teflon when life comes calling. Jules sounds. . . well less than that.

"Are you going to be OK, Jules? I mean this is a lot to process."

"I've been through worse. Don't worry about me, Red. Now I have to go, time to summon the lawfare experts!"

You **** a laugh, "If you're sure."

"I am. Take care, strawberry. You still owe me an O-face."

You exchange goodbyes and hang up. The phone gets put on the coffee table as you finish your cup. Then you pace the room and wait. You figure either Walker will call with an itinerary, the feds will show to harass you, or Jules will call with. . . Jules things. Any way it goes down, you have no idea what the right move is here and you don't like that feeling at all.