Mallory’s ears perked as her eyes flashed. But before she could begin, Bruce’s hello bounded down the dunes, echoing between them. Elsa’s heart seized.
“Bruce has been up at the station, explaining Brodie his rights,” Elsa spoke down to the sand, a chip lifted.
“Oh.” Mallory looked the way Elsa felt, which was completely stricken and joyless— all the blood from her cheeks depleted.
Bruce sat a few feet away from them, folding himself awkwardly on the sand. He was too big for cross-legged sitting and too masculine for much else than sticking both of his legs out in front of him.
“Mallory,” he finally said. “I’m so sorry to hear about what you went through. It sounds like the worst kind of hell.”
Mallory’s “thank you” was so quiet, lost to the Atlantic winds.
“I’ve just had a conversation with Brodie,” Bruce continued. “He looks terribly lost, confused, and petrified.”
Elsa and Mallory shared a look of disbelief.
“We aren’t going to feel sorry for how he’s feeling,” Elsa blurted, unable to keep her mouth shut.
“I understand that,” Bruce returned softly. “You’ve been through a lot.” Bruce chewed delicately on his lower lip. “I just hope you understand why I felt it was necessary to explain things to him. The legal process can be a horrifying one. If I was a twenty-something kid with a potential prison sentence in front of me, I’d want to know what was going on.”
Mallory nodded, collecting a chip from the bag and chewing contemplatively.
“Actually,” Mallory began, “I think it’s good you explained things to him. I’d like to know a thing or two about this, as well.”
Bruce tilted his head, surprised. Probably, he’d felt like he’d just presented himself to two wolves, prepared to rip him apart. Instead, Mallory had answered with empathy and curiosity. (Elsa, for her part, was still pretty mad. This was the ‘mama bear’ in her.)
“The world of American law is heavy with red tape and legal jargon,” Bruce began, putting on his “lawyer voice.” “Criminal lawyers or defense attorneys are meant to be the defendant’s guide, confidant, and protector. Usually, they’re either court-appointed or private, paid by the defendant himself or herself.
“Basically, the criminal lawyer’s job involves researching the facts of the case and negotiating deals with the prosecutors. They also speak with witnesses, create pleas, review all search and seizure processes, and gather evidence. They ground the defendant and give them a sense of the reality of the situation, which can often be overblown in the press or in gossip.”
“Brodie will never be able to afford a good criminal attorney,” Mallory murmured.
“My colleague, Susan Sheridan, has a standard rate for people from difficult backgrounds,” Bruce explained.
Elsa groaned inwardly. “Susan’s a fantastic lawyer.”
“She is. But remember, you aren’t going against Susan Sheridan. If it comes out that Brodie was involved in the robbery, it will be up to Susan to explain the gravity of the situation to him and negotiate a better deal. No matter how evil this act was, I know neither of you want him to go to prison for decades and miss out on his entire life,” Bruce continued. “Especially if she can create a reasonable doubt that he wasn’t involved.”
Elsa and Mallory exchanged knowing glances.
“We don’t want him to go to prison for decades, no,” Mallory whispered. “He’s so young. And besides. It’s not like he could have stolen all that stuff himself.”
“He got himself involved in something awful. A horrible mistake. He should be punished,” Elsa countered.
“We’ve all made mistakes,” Mallory said softly, eyeing Zachery— her cherub-shaped mistake, playing in the sand.
They held the silence for a moment as the waves rolled up along the sands.
“Bruce?” Mallory began, still speaking out to the waters.
“What’s up?” Bruce sounded relieved that they hadn’t demonized him for giving Brodie the information he needed.
“How long did it take for you to get your criminal lawyer degree?”
Bruce’s lips parted in surprise. “Gosh, let me think. I had four years of undergrad, followed by four years of law school. I took the bar, got a few internships, and then I started working in a firm.”
“So, a bit more than eight years?” Mallory whispered, counting out the years on her fingers.
“I was twenty-seven when I started working properly as a criminal lawyer, yes,” he told her.