Page 113 of Waste of Worth

Staring across the metal table, Dino met his lawyer’s gaze. “Let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Unfortunately.

“Have you been approached by anyone yet?” Dino asked.

Mike instantly leaned back in his seat, his fingers steepling as he considered Dino’s question. “You know, I’ve been good, Dino, as far as you’re concerned. I didn’t ask if you were guilty, I didn’t question you on your involvement with the mafia or your connections in that regard—none of it.”

“But you want to,” Dino pressed.

“Is it going to let me defend you any better than I can now?”

“No.”

Mike pointed at him. “Exactly—no. And that’s why I haven’t asked. I might be just a public defender, bottom of the barrel to some, but there’s a reason why you picked a public defender. I was just the lucky fucker that got appointed to your case, it could have just as easily been Margie in the next office, but no, it was me that got the draw. There’s a reason you went with a public defender, my friend, but I haven’t asked.”

“You’re not on a payroll,” Dino said honestly.

“I’m not. And no, Dino, I haven’t been approached or threatened or sent a message, to answer that for you, too. Might as well get it out of the way.”

That was music to Dino’s ears.

“Good.”

“So tell me,” Mike said, leaning forward, “why sign?”

“They’re going to draw this out,” Dino said, “they’ve already got me on a denied bail, and if I don’t sign, I might get another bail hearing whenever the hell the judge feels like signing off on a date for another hearing, but it could be a month or more for that. By then, they’ll refile the other charges, and that’ll be yet another argument on why I can’t get bail because I have every resource at my fingertips to run.”

“But they might not have a strong enough case on the other charges,” Mike suggested.

“Might,” Dino agreed, “but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Look at it like this, they can draw this out for a good six months, maybe more, before any real movement is going to happen. Or I can take this deal, do my year and a half—maybe a year if I’m lucky—get out, and resume my life for a bit. It’ll give me a chance to explain myself, to do what I should have done before I got put in here like this.”

“They’re going to put you back in, though.”

Dino nodded once. “But it’ll give me time, Mike. I only need time.”

For Karen.

For his unborn child.

For his siblings.

For the Outfit.

Dino only needed just a small bit of time on his side to do what he needed to do, and he’d do it damn well.

“Take the deal, then?” Mike asked.

Dino signed his name across the dotted line, flipped a page, and signed another piece. He continued this until each and every page had his name written on it, signaling he fully understood what he was agreeing to, and would make every effort to do as the prosecution wanted him to when he was brought back into the courts.

When he had finished, Dino pushed the papers back over to Mike who took them with a sad smile.

“One other thing,” Mike said as he stood from the table.

Dino crossed his arms, staring out at the door where he knew a guard would come to get him to return him to a cell as soon as Mike was gone. “What’s that, man?”

“They tell me you’re not using a phone and you’ve had no visitors.”