Page 69 of The Billionaire's Wife

I could see Special Agent Orbison’s wheels turning as he considered my words. He had to know I was right. Of course, there was a small possibility I was wrong—sometimes the government decided they needed to make an example of people. But a good attorney could hopefully keep that from happening.

I had enough favors to call in that I should be able to secure the best.

Finally, he sighed again. “I guess we’ll see.”

I nodded briskly and headed for the door, glad that I’d convinced Faith to go to work and skip this meeting. Megan would have understood, definitely, but Faith had been torn about missing her second day on the job.

Hopefully, by the time I had to lay it out for her, I’d have the name of our criminal defense attorney in hand and a reasonable explanation of the path forward.

I sorted through the names of lawyers I knew as I walked to my car, unsure of exactly where to start. I immediately ruled out my former firm. They had great lawyers; it wasn’t that. I’d referred cases to them when I hadn’t felt able to provide the kind of service the client needed. At the same time, I didn’t feel like delving into the whole thing with them. None of them were believers. Or, at least, they didn’t let their faith get in the way of their practice. And maybe that was what we needed—but it wasn’t what I wanted.

Ultimately, it had factored into my decision to strike out on my own.

The thought solidified into a direction.

I climbed behind the wheel, pulled the door shut, and set my phone in its mount before turning on the engine. I didn’t go anywhere, but instead scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for and hit dial. It rang twice before it was answered.

“Allison Reid.”

I smiled at the brisk, no-nonsense tone of her answer. “Hi, Allison, this is Tristan Lee. We met at a Christian Legal Society event probably two years ago now. I doubt you remember me.”

“Was that the dessert fundraiser for international legal aid?”

I chuckled. “Or maybe you do remember. Yes, that was the one.”

“Phil and I always remember meeting promising members of the next generation of Christian lawyers. What can I do for you?”

I took a deep breath, then explained the situation as thoroughly—but concisely—as I could. “So I guess the bottom line is, it seems like we’re going to need a criminal defense attorney who has experience with the feds. And I was hoping that would either be you, or you would know the right person for us to contact.”

“Hm.” Allison blew out a breath. “I’d love to take this on, but I don’t have as much federal experience as others I know. On the other hand, what we could do is start with me, and if it looks like we need a heavier hitter, bring on a co-counsel. I have a couple of names in mind that I can reach out to with your permission.”

“Absolutely. That would be fantastic. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Is this the best number for you?”

“Yeah, it’s my cell.”

“Great. I’m going to text you a link. It’ll take you to the firm’s new-client paperwork. Go ahead and fill that out and then you’re free to pass on my information to whoever contacts you from the FBI. I’m going to reach out now, just to get a feel for how they think this is going to go down. There might be a motion I can start crafting now so it’s ready as soon as they make contact.”

The tightness in my chest eased as her confident and calm words filled the car. “That sounds perfect. I appreciate this.”

“Glad to help. The paperwork outlines our fee scale as well as giving information on needs-based adjustments—”

“We’re fine there. That’s not a problem. I can send you a retainer electronically if you give me those details.”

“It’s in the paperwork.”

“Okay. I’ll get started on that as soon as I’m back in the office.”

Allison laughed. “Why are lawyers never at their desks?”

“It’s a question.” I chuckled. It was a valid one, at that. I did a lot of phone calling from my car. “Thanks again.”

“Talk soon.”

I ended the call, took a moment to breathe a quick prayer of thanks, then buckled my seat belt and headed back toward the office.

Since we’d met in Fairfax, not Old Town, I had a bit of a drive. Of course there was traffic. There was always traffic. Maybe if I’d chosen the back roads it wouldn’t have been as bad, but the Beltway was a more direct route and it felt faster, even when it was backed up around the interchange with I-95. Didn’t seem like anything they did there really alleviated the congestion that came with the mixing and merging of three big interstates. At least they tried?

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