CHAPTER 53

It took Hennessy five weeks to wind down his law firm operations.

He defended his clients, delegated long-term cases to other lawyers, and finalized his reports. He smiled most of the time he was in the office.

With the pressure off, he found he had a deep affinity and love for his home city. He often stopped and stared at the buildings he’d walked past so many times before, taking a moment to appreciate their beauty before he retired from the law.

The two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar payment had put the Hennessys in front of the bank loans, leaving them financially comfortable. His dream, his hope, and his fantasy had come true—he could retire to the vineyard.

Two weeks after the incident with Palin at the roadhouse, Hennessy received a call from Garrett. They were ready to press charges against Palin for further acts of fraud, but Hennessy explained he didn’t represent Palin anymore. When Garrett asked if he knew Palin’s whereabouts, he answered honestly—he had no idea. Garrett explained that Palin’s accounts remained frozen pending the resolution of his next court case. Hennessy said he didn’t think Palin would ever be found. He asked about Tilly and Fisher, and Garrett said they would testify against Palin in the new charges. They had started a new life in Texas and were both in the process of divorcing their previous spouses.

As Hennessy wound down the law firm, he used his contacts to get Jacinta another job. He gave Jacinta a glowing reference when asked, saying he had not worked with a more intelligent, fierce, and hard-working assistant. The larger firm offered her more pay, flexible working hours, and more responsibilities. Jacinta thanked Joe and told him she would miss working for him. Joe agreed and said he would miss her company.

Lockett picked up further work with another law firm. On his last day in the office, with a big smile on his face, he said Joe was the worst boss he’d ever had. They shook hands and then hugged for a moment, slapping each other on the back.

As he locked the office door for the final time, a wave of relief swept over him. The weight of endless motions, depositions, and trials was finally lifting. Yet, beneath the relief was a flicker of sadness. He was leaving behind not just a career but a part of himself—one that thrived in the pursuit of justice.

The team celebrated their last day with a long dinner at Poogan’s Porch restaurant.

The restaurant was an institution in Charleston. Inside a charming Victorian townhouse, the iconic establishment had been serving Southern-style seafood for decades, pleasing locals and tourists alike with amazing dishes full of flavor and made with love.

Jacinta laughed most of the time as she ate her seafood, Barry told jokes and tales of Down Under, and Joe thanked everyone for their help and hard work.

Satisfaction was the strongest feeling for Joe—satisfaction that he was returning to the vineyard, satisfaction that Lockett and Jacinta had picked up better-paying jobs, and satisfaction that the house of justice, the house he had faith in, still stood strong.

The day after their last dinner, Hennessy received a call from Garrett. He was surprised at the news, and the next day, he drove south to Savannah, Georgia, and attended a packed court hearing.

Tension was in the air as Bernard Palin, dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, was brought in via the side exit.

Palin looked skinnier. His head had been shaved, his face bruised, and he looked broken. His shoulders were slumped forward, and when the judge asked his name, he responded in a shaky voice.

When the charges of drug trafficking were read out, Palin began to cry. He was looking at fifteen years in prison.

The prosecutor in the courtroom read out the charges and explained that Palin had been found driving a black sedan with five kilograms of heroin in the car. Palin claimed there was a chaperone with him, but the police didn’t catch the other person. Palin told the court he had been forced to run drugs across the state borders by a drug smuggler. He told the judge that he hadn’t been left alone in five weeks and always had someone by his side. He had been kidnapped, he explained. He had been beaten, battered, and abused by his kidnappers.

The prosecutor explained that when Palin was asked by law enforcement who the drug smugglers were, Palin kept quiet. And when asked to identify his kidnappers, Palin said nothing. Hennessy understood why. If he said a word, if he even mentioned the Rebel Sons, he wouldn’t last a week in prison.

When the drug charges were officially read out, Palin’s crying became louder.

His sobbing echoed through the gallery of the courtroom, and when asked to enter a plea, Palin wiped his eyes and said, “Guilty.”

The prosecutor confirmed an early plea deal for ten years’ prison time, and Palin was escorted out of the court, still sobbing as he went.

Hennessy smiled.

Justice had been served.