Justice Hunter by Harper Dimmerman Page A

with Mediacast. That your hunch was right or something. We didn’t want to pry, but I could tell something was up.”
    “Didn’t want to press it man,” echoed Dillon. “It’s all such a fucking rat race. Not worth our energy when we’re away from that prison.”
    “Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, guys. I’m a big boy.”
    “I told you, dude,” said Andy.
    “What! You don’t have a brain of your own,” Dillon fired back. As usual, they were bickering like an old married couple.
    “Anyway,” Dillon refocused. “So what’s the deal with Mancini, then?”
    “He wants me to represent the city in the Vito’s case.”
    “Wait. We’re representing the commission?” asked Andy. “We’re prosecuting the case?”
    “I guess so. But I thought the same thing myself. Since when do we turn away liable defendants with tons of cash?”
    “Anyway. That’s huge, dude!” Andy was thrilled for him. “You’re the man!”
    “On behalf of the Human Relations Commission?” Dillon wasn’t so quick to react, as he pondered the case assignment. Dillon’s thoughtful hesitation didn’t bother Hunter, either. He’d always valued Dillon’s well-reasoned and brutally honest opinions.
    “Tough case to win. But I think it bodes well for you,” Dillon concluded. “Considering the media backlash against the city for bringing the case in the first place, you should be psyched he picked you.” Dillon paused. Then, with an ominous tone to his voice, he added, “Just don’t beat him too badly.”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” replied Hunter, trying to make sense of Dillon’s comment. And then the obvious dawned on him. It was a Mafia thing. He was insinuating the mob’s involvement, a natural reaction when it came to controversy in South Philly.
    “You don’t think it’s too risky?”
    “Depends what you mean by risky .”
    “Do I stand a chance of winning the damn thing? Mancini already alluded to some kind of PR problem.”
    “No shit. The guy’s a living legend,” said Andy.
    “What do you know about the case?” asked Hunter.
    “Not too much. But rumor has it the whole thing was trumped up, which I personally find hard to believe. The dude’s a narcissist. Anyway, I’ve heard the suit stems from a personal vendetta between a local councilwoman and Vito. Apparently there’s some bad blood there. And the sign gave her the ammo she needed…”—something caught Andy’s eye—“to go after him.” Dillon peered stealthily over his shoulder. Hunter picked up on the gesture.
    “Dude, not that it’s any big deal, but look who it is,” said Andy.
    “Surprise, surprise. Our boy with your ex. Must be getting serious.”
    Todd Stevens, uberassociate at the firm and wannabe Brooks Brothers mannequin, had started dating Hunter’s ex-girlfriend from law school. Her name was Monica Fine, a fiery redhead who worked at the District Attorney’s Office. It had been years since they were together, and Hunter had convinced himself it was over. But it was undeniable that at moments like these, his heart told him otherwise. He knew it was masochistic, too. She had cheated on him, and he hated himself for not being able to let it go.
    “Sloppy seconds,” added Andy protectively as he turned back. “I hate that jerk.”
    “He is a pompous dick, isn’t he?” Dillon’s observation was drawn out, as if he was daring Todd to read his lips. Get him hot under the collar. “ She is smokin’ hot, though, Hunter.”
    “She’s definitely attractive,” admitted Hunter. “No doubt.” He was smiling at the irony that even now, years later, he still wasn’t entirely over her. Maybe Judge Sheila will change all that…
    “So where were we?” asked Andy as he observed Hunter taking a tortured swig. Hunter’s back was to him. Dillon, although a married man like Andy, was still off fantasizing about Hunter’s ex. “You’ve got an uphill battle with the ordinance. You need to make sure you’ve