Overview of Books 1-3 of the Erin McCabe Legal Thrillers by Author Robyn Gigl

 

Five minutes later, as the opening notes of “Mercy Mercy Me” began floating out of the speakers, she carried two mugs of coffee into the living room and gently placed them on coasters on the coffee table. He walked over and sat next to her on the couch. “Good pick,” she said. “I cheated. It was already on the turntable. Although I do like Marvin Gaye,” he added with a grin. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Nice,” he offered. “Thanks.” They sat there, awkwardly talking about music, sipping their coffee. “So, can I make an observation?” he said, putting his coffee down and shifting his body on the couch so he was facing her. She nodded. “For two thirty-somethings we’re both acting as nervous as a couple of high school kids.” He stroked the stubble on his chin with his hand. “Why is that?” She laughed. “Are you serious? Why? Maybe it’s because—” She never got to finish her thought because at that moment he leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t a great kiss, mainly because he caught her in mid-sentence, but it did stop her from talking. And when he kissed her again, she slowly relaxed and let his lips cover hers, putting her arm around his neck so she could pull him closer. She was surprised by how different it was. This wasn’t her first kiss. She had loved kissing Lauren and must have kissed her thousands of times, but as she pulled him close, his smell, the feel of his skin on hers, the taste of his lips, all seemed so much more intense. It was as if she had suddenly awakened in the Land of Oz—the world now filled with colors. She closed her eyes and slowly stroked the back of his neck, enjoying his reaction, her own body reacting in a way that she had never experienced, the warmth of his lips spreading throughout her, her body tingling in an unfamiliar but wonderful way.

~~~

Going back to catch up on an exciting new legal series is exactly what I'm prone to do... If you didn't catch my review of the fourth in series, you might want to click back once you read today's post. Given my various health appointments, I decided to provide an overview of the first three since the primary thing that changes is the specific legal case that will be featured...

And this first one was a doozy! Here's the Prologue:

April 17, 2006 

HIS BROWN EYES WERE OPEN, THE SHOCK OF BEING STABBED STILL reflected in his dilated pupils. Sharise pushed his naked, lifeless body off of her, and he tumbled heavily from the bed to the floor, landing on his back. Fxxk, she thought, breathing heavily, I got to get out of here. No. Take your time, don’t panic. It’s two in the morning, no one will miss him for a while. She leaned up on one arm so she could look over the side of the bed at his body, the blood pooling beneath him on the cheap mustard-colored motel carpet. Fxxking bastard. You got what you deserved, you piece of shit. Turning away from him, she looked down at her own blood-soaked body, and the wave of nausea came without warning. She retched over the side of the bed, adding a final indignity to his corpse. Shaking, she pushed herself to the far side of the bed and swung her feet to the floor, hoping she could stand, hoping the nausea would retreat. She steadied herself by bracing her hand against the wall, and slowly felt her way to the bathroom, where she found the light switch and the toilet just as she vomited again, grabbing her cornrows with her right hand to protect them from the insides of her stomach and the murky waters of the bowl. As she heaved and gagged, her mind drifted back to when she was little and her momma would sit next to her when she was sick, comforting her through the ordeal. God, she could use her momma now, but it had been four years and there was no going back now. When there was nothing left to come up, Sharise lay on the cold tiled floor, her body trembling, not wanting to budge from where she was. Finally, the reality of what she had done began to settle in, and she knew she had to move. She dragged herself into the shower, where she watched his blood swirl down the drain, and desperately tried to come up with a plan. Her fingerprints would be all over him and the room, not to mention they’d probably be able to get her DNA from the vomit, which she had no intention of cleaning up. She had been arrested enough to know that Homicide would find a match in the system before their coffee even cooled. So not only would she have to somehow disappear, she had to avoid getting arrested for the rest of her life; not likely in her line of work, and especially since her mug shot would be plastered all over the place. She found her dress in the far corner of the room and put it on sans underwear, which she’d left in the bathroom, soaked with his blood. She sat on the edge of the bed and zipped up her thigh-high faux suede boots. She looked in the mirror, dug her lipstick out of her purse, and reapplied it. The only other makeup she carried was mascara, but she decided to forego reapplying that for now. Why the hell had this white boy picked her, anyway? She found his wallet still in his pants pocket. William E. Townsend, Jr., age twenty-eight, according to his license. Great, she thought as she rifled through the wallet, one of those guys who carried no cash. Besides the fifty dollars he had already given her, he only had another thirty dollars in his wallet, not even enough to pay for what he wanted. She grabbed the money and his Bank of America ATM card. Then she found his phone, flipped it open, and scrolled through his contacts. Stupid motherfxxker. There, under the name “BOA,” was his ATM PIN number. That should be good for three hundred, she figured. Taking the keys to his BMW out of his front pants pocket, she looked at his phone again. Two forty-five. She wasn’t exactly sure where they were, but she knew it wasn’t too far from Atlantic City; maybe she could still grab a change of clothes and get to Philly before daylight. She could ditch the car there and hop a train to New York. It was a long shot, but she couldn’t think of any better options. Studying the scene, she tried to figure out if she should take the knife with her or not. It’s not like it mattered if they found it. They sure as hell were going to be able to put her in the room if she ever got caught. Might as well take it, she reasoned, just in case. She walked over to where he was lying. His face was already pale, the blood that had provided the color now in a puddle under him. His hands still clutched the knife protruding from his chest. She unclenched his hands to pull the knife out, then rinsed it off in the sink before stuffing it in her purse. Time to go. She turned off all the lights and hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door. With a little luck, she’d be in New York before they found his body. Maybe if she was really lucky, it would never make it beyond the local news. She took a deep breath and headed out the door.

Yes, the McCain and Swisher legal team has taken the case for a young lady known as Sharise...Once the body of Bill Alexander is found, there is enough evidence in the motel room to arrest Samuel Emanuel Barnes for the murder. But right at the start, Ms. McCain brings a motion for the assigned judged to recuse himself... Citing he was homophobic... Wow! McCain starts each and every case with a major issue to be addressed and moves on from there to prove exactly what she intended to prove. Her client's innocence. This character, along with her partner, a former FBI Agent who was removed from office on a false claim... Is quite a pair!

The thing about the case against Sharise is that the father of the victim is a successful highly influential political officer and has his goals to move higher and higher... And a murder case about his son is NOT what he wants to deal with! Thus begins the lies...

ARON TINSLEY STUDIED HIS CLIENT’S COMPUTER. HE MISSED HIS days as a hacker, something he had started doing when he was fifteen. While the prospect of five years in prison for hacking into the NRA’s emails had been a convincing enticement to get on the straight and narrow, it was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that at twenty-two he was now a white hat doing IT security. While his boss was a decent guy, a former hacker himself, and it did have the advantage of a regular paycheck, it meant his days were mostly filled with boring stuff. Still, every once in a while, he came across something that provided him with the same thrill as hacking. Today was one of those days. Up until about 6:00 p.m. last night, Aaron hadn’t even known where Westfield, New Jersey was. But his boss had called him with what he said was a “special assignment” for a guy by the name of Charles Parsons who was having computer problems. Must be real special, Aaron had thought if they were willing to pay him double time to go out on a Sunday. Surveying his surroundings, Aaron had no idea how much Parsons’s house was worth, but it was easily the biggest house he had ever been in. The home office he was working in probably had more square footage than Aaron’s entire one-bedroom apartment in Queens. As he searched deeper through the mostly unseen files on his client’s laptop, he had to admit that he was enjoying the hunt. He examined the computer’s registry, trying to find the hidden program he had begun to suspect was buried in the software code. Whoever had done this was a real pro. He was almost envious. “I need to get on my computer. Are you almost done?” Charles Parsons asked, startling Aaron. Aaron had been so engrossed in his search he was surprised to see Parsons standing in the middle of the room. Parsons, who was well tanned even though it was early April, appeared to be around six feet, with broad shoulders. Aaron couldn’t even hazard a guess at his age, but his wrinkle-free face, contrasted with a shock of wavy gray hair, left the impression that Parsons was well acquainted with a plastic surgeon. Catching Parsons’s annoyed stare, Aaron realized that he was still grinning in admiration for the cleverness of the hacker. “What are you smiling at?” Parsons snapped. Aaron willed his face into seriousness. “Sorry. Um, can we go talk in another room?” he said. “What the fuck are you babbling about?” Parsons shot back. Aaron powered down the laptop, closed it, and took Parsons by the arm, escorting him out of the office. “Mr. Parsons, please let’s go into your kitchen.” “What the hell is going on?” Parsons said, yanking his arm from Aaron’s grasp as they left the room. “I asked you to check to see if I have a virus, and you’re acting like my computer has the bubonic plague.” Aaron sat on one of the stools in front of the marble island in Parsons’s massive, well-appointed kitchen. “That’s actually not a bad analogy,” he offered, nodding his head. “Yeah, you have a virus, which it looks like you picked up from some porn website. That’s easy enough to fix. Unfortunately, you have a much bigger problem. How long have you been running the encryption software?” “Why? What’s that got to do with anything?” Parsons asked, his eyes narrowing as he gazed suspiciously at Aaron. “I’m not sure yet, but I think that may have a rootkit embedded in it. Which means your laptop, and probably any other computers you use that are running the same software on them, are infected with the same rootkit.” “What the fxxk is a rootkit?” Aaron shook his head from side to side. “In layman’s terms, it’s a program that allows whoever installed it to monitor everything you do on your computer.” “Wait, are you saying someone can see what websites I visited?” Parsons said, cocking his head to the side and rubbing his forefinger across his lips, his tone suddenly less defiant. “Yes, but . . .” Aaron hesitated. “Well, it’s much worse than that. It means that whoever is watching can record every keystroke you make. So that if you go to a website where you have a password, they can steal your password and lock you out. I think they’ve also taken over the microphone and camera to watch and listen to you. That’s why I wanted to speak to you in here.” Parsons’s stare conveyed disbelief. “Watch me? From my computer? You can’t be fxxking serious?” “Yeah,” Aaron nodded. “Unfortunately, I am.” “What’s that got to do with my encryption software?” “As best I can tell, the rootkit is embedded in it. So if you have the same software on your desktop, or any other computers, you probably have it on those as well.” Parsons’s blank stare conveyed his failure to grasp the full impact of what Aaron was telling him. “Look,” Aaron said, speaking slowly now, “if this is what I think it is, it means that as long as you’ve had this software on your computer, whoever’s responsible for it has seen everything you’ve done. Every email, every transaction, every download—everything.” “But everything’s encrypted. That’s the whole purpose of the software. So only people with . . .” He stopped mid-sentence, panic spreading across his face with the realization that the encryption software was compromised. “Whoever this is, they can see everything?” “Yeah, most likely,” Aaron repeated. “No. No, that can’t be possible,” Parsons said, his face suddenly ashen. “When did you have it installed?” Aaron asked, enjoying the sudden shift in power as he watched Parsons’s desperation grow. Who knows, he thought. Maybe if I play this right and fix the problem, Parsons might pay me something extra under the table. “Um, I don’t know—about a year and a half ago, I guess,” he replied. “And where did you get it?” Aaron said. “I mean, it’s not something you bought at Staples.” “Some friends recommended it.” When he saw Aaron’s skeptical look, he got defensive. “I trust these guys. We do some business together and the business they’re in requires secrecy, like mine. They said this software was the best.” “Any changes to it since then?” “I got a new laptop about a year ago.” “Anything else?” Aaron asked. “Yeah, about six months or so ago the guy who designed and installed the software came back and installed an update saying they needed to patch some potential security issue.” “Bingo,” Aaron said, the final piece of the puzzle finally dropping into place. “It looks like whoever designed it built in a little something extra when they installed the update, because as good as it is as encryption software, it’s even a better rootkit.” “I need this fixed now,” Parsons said, growing angry. “I need access to my data. If someone has been watching me for six months, I need to secure things before someone steals my information.” Aaron didn’t feel like incurring Parsons’s wrath by telling him it was probably too late. The hacker had access for six months. Plus, they either already knew Aaron had been reviewing the computer’s registry and that he had likely uncovered the rootkit, or they’d know soon enough. Not to mention that the only way to retrieve the encrypted data was to use the infected software. As Aaron weighed the options, he couldn’t help but admire how thoroughly this mystery designer had fxxked his client. “You understand,” Aaron started cautiously, “there are basically two pieces to the encryption software: One encrypts any emails you send and receive, the second encrypts any data that you’re storing so no one can read it unless they have the same software.” Parsons nodded. “Here’s the problem,” Aaron said slowly. “I’m assuming you encrypted and downloaded a lot of data you don’t want anyone else to see.” Aaron didn’t wait for Parsons’s response—his face told him the answer. “Assuming that’s true, you can’t access the information without unencrypting it, which requires you to use the program. So what we need to do is get you off the Internet so whoever is running this thing will lose access to your computer. Then we need to unencrypt all your data and get a brand-new laptop.” Parsons’s head was bouncing like a bobblehead toy. “This can’t be happening! Motherfxxker!” he spat out, then started grabbing things and throwing them against the blue tiled walls. He started with the fruit in a ceramic bowl on the island, then the bowl, then anything he could get his hands on—a glass, a coffee mug. He finally stopped, his breath coming in short staccato bursts as he wrapped his hands behind his head, holding it as if trying to keep it from exploding. He looked at Aaron with the look of a cornered wild animal. “I need that data. I have to make sure . . .” He stopped. “There’s a lot of important financial information that I’ve downloaded. I can’t let that fall into the wrong hands.” Aaron scratched his head. “Where’s the data now?” “I have it on four external hard drives.” Aaron took a deep breath. “As I said, the easiest thing to do is get you offline, connect your hard drives, open and unencrypt the data on them, move it unencrypted to a new computer or hard drive, and then resave it using new encryption software.” “Can I do that on my own?” “How good are you on a computer?” He shook his head in disgust. “Can you show me how to do it? There’s a lot of sensitive data, so once you show me, hopefully I can handle it from there.” “Sure. But in the meantime, whoever installed the rootkit has access to your data. So time is of the essence.” Parsons mumbled under his breath. “There may be another solution,” he said. “I have an idea. I’ll call you later. But in the meantime, go get me a new laptop and do whatever you have to do to get some new encryption software, so you’re ready to show me how to do it as soon I need you.” Aaron let himself out through the front door and headed out to his car, happy to be getting out of the house. Any thoughts of making Parsons happy and getting a few extra bucks under the table had evaporated as he’d watched Parsons explode. This was not a guy he wanted to deal with any more than he had to. Get the job done and get out of town. He wasn’t sure what Parsons was thinking when he said he might have another solution, but, by the look on Parsons’s face, Aaron was sure he didn’t want to know. * * * Parsons walked into his bedroom and pulled out the four hard drives, stared at them, now aware that someone else might know everything that was on them. Who the fxxk would do this to him? He didn’t trust his partners, but he couldn’t imagine any of them would risk incurring his wrath by hacking him. He tried to remember the name of the guy who had installed the software and who had recommended him. He needed answers and he needed them now. He picked up the phone and dialed her number. Of all of them, she was the one who had always been loyal to him. “Cass, it’s me. I . . . we have a major problem. I just had an IT guy in here and he tells me our encryption software has some fucking rootworm or something in it.” “What the hell is that?” she asked. Parsons hesitated, weighing what he wanted to tell her to avoid giving her too much information. “It allows someone to see what I’m doing on my computer,” he replied. “Charles, are you serious? This could be devastating.” “Listen to me. I don’t need you to tell me how fxxking bad this could be; I just need you to find the guy who installed this. Do you remember the little shit’s name—McKay or something?” “Mackey,” she said. “Yes, that’s it. Justin Mackey. Tell Max and Carl to find him and bring him to the warehouse in Elizabeth. We need to have a little chat with him.”

I DON’T NEED THIS ON A MONDAY MORNING, ERIN THOUGHT, STANDING at the entrance and scanning the nearly empty diner. This being New Jersey, the diner capital of the world, there hadn’t been a problem finding an open one even at the ungodly hour of four thirty in the morning. After spotting Justin in the far corner, she slowly made her way over and slid into the booth opposite him. Mackey had called in a panic forty-five minutes earlier, telling her that he had to talk to her. Although Mackey might not have been the brightest bulb in the luminary, he had never been an alarmist, so she managed to drag herself out of bed, splash some water on her face, throw on some clothes, and make her way to the Lido Diner. She ordered coffee, too tired to be angry. He looked like hell, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, an indication that he had gotten less sleep than her. His stained T-shirt and jeans looked like he had grabbed them off his bedroom floor. “I’m sorry,” he said before she could ask him anything. “I would never have bothered you at this hour if it wasn’t important,” he said, running his hands through his uncombed hair. “I needed to see you to let you know that I have to disappear for a while.” “Disappear for a while? Justin, what are you talking about?” “I’m not coming to court today, or probably for the rest of the trial. I have to get out of town.” Erin wasn’t sure if it was the coffee kicking in or her client telling her that he was jumping bail, but she was suddenly awake. “Justin, you understand you’re on bail. If you don’t show up not only will the judge revoke your bail, but you’ll be committing a separate crime: bail jumping. I know the trial isn’t going the way you hoped, but even if you’re convicted, I don’t think Judge Fowler will give you more than two or three years tops. And because it’s your first offense, you’ll probably serve less than a year before you get parole. But if you run, you’re really going to piss off the prosecutor and the judge, and assuming at some point you get caught, there’s no telling what sentence you’ll get.” “You don’t understand, Erin. It’s got nothing to do with this case,” he said, nervously looking around the diner. “Despite what I’m charged with, I didn’t design this software. Some guy named Luke, who I’ve never even met, designed all of it. He hired me and I just did what I was told.” Erin motioned for him to lower his voice. Between his emotions and the empty diner, it sounded like he was using a megaphone. “It’s Luke who did this, not me. It’s not my fault.” “Stop! Justin, you’ve got to slow down. You’re not making any sense. Who’s Luke? What does any of this have to do with your case or with you disappearing?” “I’m sorry. I’m just a little rattled.” As he took a sip of his coffee, Erin noticed that his hand was shaking...

One of the worst type of cases to deal with are related to computer fraud. Sadly. Computers can be wonderful--or they can be nightmares for people who know only the surface utilization of this powerful machine. Any computer can be hacked. The benefits of computers far outweigh not using them, but, depending upon how and why some people decide to use equipment, they should never feel so secure that absolutely nobody can get to what is on your system.

For Charles Parsons, it was already too late when he was told, by a hacker working to help people, that his entire system was corrupted and totally visible to whoever had taken over the computer files...

An interesting little twist that is given to readers was that an inside police officer had contacted Erin and shared that he didn't think that the defendant in a recent murder had actually killed the man--Charles Parsons! While the McCabe-Swisher team was nobody's fool, Erin decided to act upon his tip and at least talk to the woman accused. Based upon her story, they decided to take the case... And they had no idea what they really were getting into!

“You okay?”
Mark asked. “I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s just really hard to hold on to the hope that someday who you are or who you love won’t matter to anyone. People just have so much hate."

~~~

“How’d things go in Cape May?” he asked as he stirred the rice one last time and plated it. “Ah, not so great,” she replied, uncertain about how to respond. “Por que?” he asked innocently. She watched as he spooned scampi sauce over the shrimp and rice. “Looks great,” she said, taking the two plates to the table and waiting for him as he washed his hands. “Bon appétit,” he said, taking his seat and picking up his fork. “So what happened?” “Well . . . they think I murdered my client,” she responded with a shrug. His look betrayed his skepticism. “You’re kidding—right?” “Not really,” she answered half-heartedly. “What!” he said, dropping his fork on his plate. “Apparently, from his home security system, we’re seen leaving his house together, and he never returns. According to the medical examiner, his time of death is around the time we were together.” Mark got up, walked over to her side of the table, and gave her a hug. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Thanks,” she said, leaning her head into his chest. “Yeah—I’m okay, I guess. I know he was very much alive when I left, but I will confess it’s disconcerting to know I’m in the crosshairs of the prosecutor’s office.” “What are you going to do?” he asked. She gave him a weak grin. “Eat before it gets cold. It looks really good.” “You seem pretty unfazed about this. Aren’t you concerned?” he asked, going back to his seat. She thought for a moment. “Yeah, I am, but probably not for the reason you might think. I can’t help but think that Senator Townsend is somehow involved, and if he is, I know he’ll do anything to get back at me for defending Sharise. I’m not worried about the truth—just that the truth has never meant much to Townsend and those who do his bidding.” She took a forkful of shrimp and rice. “Thank you for cooking, by the way.” “My pleasure.” “This is delicious,” she said, as she considered how to broach the next difficult subject—their current living arrangement. Back in January, before she had moved in with Mark, she had renewed the lease on her apartment, and it ran for another seven months. “I still have my apartment in Cranford,” she said. “Maybe I should move back there until this blows over. If I’m right about Townsend being involved, I may be in his crosshairs, and I don’t want you to get caught in the middle. He’s dangerous.” This time, he gently placed his fork on the side of his plate. “And you living by yourself is somehow supposed to make me feel better?” he said wearily. “We both know that if someone wants to come after you, one of the ways is through me, even if we’re not living together. Neither of us has forgotten that you saved my life,” he said, referring to an incident when Erin was able to surprise two thugs posing as police officers just as they were about to abduct Mark in an attempt to silence her. “And don’t you dare go to where I think you’re going. You broke up with me once trying to protect me from my own family’s transphobia. Breaking up with me again isn’t going to protect me from crazy people out to get you. We’ve been through this before. You don’t get to make decisions for me—only I do.” She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand, hoping her expression didn’t reveal that she was guilty as charged—that’s exactly what she had been thinking. A little over a year earlier, she had called time on their relationship because Mark’s family had given him such a hard time about dating her. Now, with the exception of his sister, Molly, and her wife, Robin, things were still tense. She already felt guilty enough about his estrangement from his family; the thought that he might also be hurt or killed because of her was horrifying. “Let’s hope this is over with quickly and we never have to worry about it,” she said in a tone that was neither encouraging nor convincing. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’m sure it will.”

Having the main character, who happens to be a criminal defense lawyer, being charged with murder is, maybe, a step too far. But not for Robyn Gigl! She's already gotten high praise by The New York Times Book Review, who says that this is "A groundbreaking series that is poised to become a definitive one," and all Gigl has done is create main characters that many people choose to...hate..." You know, folks, I would guess that if Jesus was born in these chaotic days, his mother, Mary, would be accused of having sex prior to her marriage to Joseph. And people would never let her forget that she was an unwed mother... After all, she apparently can't identify any man who fathered her son... After 2000+ years, there is still controversy! Why?!

I am loving these books, but not necessarily for Gigl's celebration of LGBTQ characters, but because her legal cases simply blow me away with the reality of what these characters are forced to endure from the people in their family, close friends, or, even strangers who have no interaction with people, except through gossip, disinformation, and simply hate those who are perceived as being different... I think of a passage from The Light of the World which I am also reading at this time. It was Jesus who cried out "Permit the children to come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to them..." The book goes on to say that only Jesus knows the "why" of each issue, so that we who are His children need not be concerned, but just love all of our neighbors...

Which leads to one of the cases that is in Remain Silent. Erin was asked to take on a case regarding a child of 11 who had herself declared that she was a girl. (Yes, this is exactly what had happened in Erin's life, except when she was older). Hannah had a father who had never wanted to be involved with a child, but had financially contributed to her life. When she started telling her mother about her inner feelings, her mother was supportive and had sought Erin's help in dealing with the details. However, a local politician, who is found in the first three books, had taken on transgender activities as a source of political fear mongering and Hannah was caught up in the political rhetoric, that was being fed to her biological, but absent father. Hannah was taken away from her mother and placed legally with her father, a man she had never known!  It gets worse...

At the same time, another man who had seen himself as a different sex all of his life, had contacted Erin because of seeing her information in a local news article. He had invited her to share her life and, in turn, talked about his being a closeted trans woman. During that time with Erin, he had received telephone call and had told her, that, perhaps, it was better that she left by another way from his home. It was after Erin left, that he was murdered. And that visit turned into a political nightmare as she was placed in jail based upon circumstantial evidence. During that time in jail, she was physically assaulted by the guards!

You know, folks, I found myself placing the past-president into the villain of these books. One of the reasons was because of a comment that the man never got his own hands dirty, but paid to get whatever he wanted--his final goal was president of the United States. I have never seen such hateful words pouring out in America--for purely political reasons! We've all heard his agitation--his incitement of hate and violence while playing the part of a man who wants to help people. Hearing it--reading it--from the point of view of those who suffer from such damaging rhetoric is startling at first, but, worse, a chilling awareness of just how much the words of one person can ultimately reach across the nation and the world...

This book had a, frankly, welcomed closeout because the individual leading all of the damage was stopped...  In reality, too many times an acceptable ending never comes... I am thankful for these books. I have learned much about those who find themselves born into a body that was mixed up in a way that can occur unknowingly. Most of all, I have come to understand the turmoil of the lives they have been forced to live, either by hidden crossdressing, or by acting to legally take charge of something that was clearly a mistake in the first place. Gigl has shown through her books an outstanding sense of love and concern for herself and for those in the same position. If you are worried about all the hate and rhetoric being thrown around purely for political power or hate of others, recognize one thing--only God understands the why and He loves all of us who have opened our minds and hearts to His Love and Truth... 

Aside from all of that, these legal thrillers have been extraordinary in the twists and turns that only a fantastic author knows how to weave such tales! The cases are made to teach us, but also to help us learn that Love is the primary goal in interacting with anybody who doesn't act like "we" want them to act... 

God Bless

Gabby

Robyn Gigl Presents Nothing But The Truth - A Significant Addition to the Legal Thriller Genre And Personal Favorite for 2024!

 Peg took a sip of her coffee. “Wow! Were you such a feminist before you transitioned?” Erin grinned. “I wish I could say yes, but probably not. As they say, ‘Perception is reality.’ ”

November 20, 2009 THE CANDLES ON THE ALTAR FLICKERED, THROWING STRANGE SHADOWS across the enormous stained-glass windows that rose up to the vaulted roof of the chapel. Erin McCabe stood among a group of people she had come to know over the last five years. Their journeys were all very different, but they were compatriots nonetheless, joined by a common thread. A thread that also knitted them to the names being solemnly read to the fifty or so people gathered in the pews near the front of the chapel. “From the United States—Caprice Curry, age thirty-one; Jimmy McCollough, age thirty-four; Foxy Ivy, age twenty-five; Kelly Watson, no age; Eric ‘Beyoncé’ Lee, age twenty-one; Paulina Ibarra, age twenty-four; Mariah Qualis, age twenty-one; Carson Stevenson, age forty-seven; Jacqueline Ford, age sixty . . .” As each name was read, it was displayed on a large screen. Each name a life lost, most of them young, most women of color, all of them killed in the last twelve months because they were transgender, nonbinary, or gender nonconforming. Tears rolled from the corners of Erin’s eyes. This was her third year attending the International Transgender Day of Remembrance at the Princeton Chapel, and each year was harder than the previous one, as the list of names grew longer every year. Tonight, she and her companions took turns reading each of the 163 names of the people lost. After the last name was read, they slowly returned to the pews and took their seats among the others in attendance. When they were seated, a Unitarian Universalist minister slowly climbed up to the pulpit and offered a moving prayer about love, compassion, and acceptance. When the minister finished, a singer sat down at the piano and, in a beautiful contralto, offered moving renditions of “Imagine” followed by “I Will Remember You.” As the final chords faded, Erin remained anchored in place, allowing the solemnity of the moment to linger, taking a few more seconds to remember those who had lost their lives, especially those who were remembered simply as “Name Unknown,” a final indignity to lives tragically cut short. 

After several minutes, Erin turned to the woman on her right, Rachel Stern, a retired IRS Special Agent, and gave her a hug. “I hope you didn’t mind that I added Jacqueline’s name to the list,” Erin whispered, referring to Rachel’s friend Bradford Montgomery, who had also gone by the name Jacqueline Ford. “No. It was nice,” Rachel replied. “I know Brad spent his life in the closet, but he was one of us. Although, we both know Brad’s murder was politically motivated, and not because he was trans.” “That doesn’t make her loss any easier,” Erin replied, purposely switching pronouns to reflect who Brad truly was. “No. You’re right,” Rachel replied, and sighed. “I still miss her.” 

Once they slid out of the pew, Erin gave Logan Stevens a hug. Logan, a self-described biracial, pansexual, genderqueer attorney, had played a huge role in Erin’s last case, and was now dating Rachel. Gathering their belongings, they made their way out into the unseasonably warm evening. They stood outside the chapel in the well-lit area by the walkway to Nassau Street. “A few of us are heading over to the Alchemist & Barrister to grab something to eat. You want to join us?” Logan asked. “Sure,” Erin replied. 

“Excuse me,” a man called out as he approached. “Would you be Erin McCabe?” “I am,” Erin replied, catching Rachel and Logan eyeing the man suspiciously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are you the criminal defense lawyer?” he asked skeptically. “Yes. I’m that Erin McCabe,” she responded with a small grin. “And to answer your next question, as far as I know, I’m the only Erin McCabe who’s a criminal defense attorney in New Jersey.” “I’m sorry,” the man stammered. “I apologize. You . . . well . . . you just look . . .” 

“Too young to be the infamous Erin McCabe, criminal defense lawyer,” Logan suggested with a chuckle. Erin tried not to blush, but at five foot five with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and a slim, athletic figure, she was still blessed with a youthful appearance that belied the fact that she was a seasoned attorney with a unique backstory. “Is there something I can help you with?” Erin asked. The man rubbed the back of his neck, appearing uncertain. “Um, is it possible for us to speak privately? I promise I won’t keep you from your friends. I know what today is. I was inside for part of the ceremony. I only need a couple of minutes. It’s about a potential case.” Sensing that Rachel was about to spring into special agent mode, Erin turned to her. “Why don’t you go on ahead with the others and save seats for Logan and me?” she said, hoping that Logan’s presence would reassure Rachel. Rachel gave Erin a sidelong glance, but headed off to the restaurant. 

Erin studied the man. He appeared to be in his early thirties, and was significantly taller than her, so her guess was that he was close to six foot. He was a good-looking guy, well-built. He was wearing a black suit, with a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a gold crucifix hanging from a chain around his neck. And even though Erin didn’t sense any danger, she felt better with Logan standing next to her. “Is this about representing you?” Erin asked. “No. Not me; I have a friend who needs help.” Erin pursed her lips. “Okay, but just so you know, if it’s not about representing you, the attorney-client privilege doesn’t apply.” “What’s that mean?” he asked. “Basically, it means that whatever you tell me isn’t confidential,” she said. He sighed and looked down at the ground, seeming to weigh his options. “Okay,” he finally said. “I guess I don’t have a choice. But can we speak alone?” Now it was Erin’s turn to consider her options. She had certainly pissed off enough rich and powerful people over the last four years to be wary of someone wanting to speak to her alone about representing someone else. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but as she was known to say, “It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you.” Then there was also the issue of Logan, who Erin could sense was now in full protect mode. Erin finally landed on being cautious. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I prefer to have Logan here. Logan’s also an attorney and we sometimes work together, so anything you want to discuss with me you should feel free to discuss with them here as well.” “Them?” the man repeated, looking around. “Yes. Logan’s genderqueer and uses they, them, theirs pronouns.” “Oh,” he replied, unable to mask his confusion. “I apologize. 

I don’t know your name,” Erin said. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Gabriel, Gabriel DeAngelis. But please call me Gabe,” he replied, offering his hand to Erin and Logan in turn. “How can I help you, Gabe?” Erin asked. DeAngelis seemed to glance around to see if anyone was within earshot. “Like I said, it’s not for me. It’s for my . . . my friend. He was arrested two days ago. He’s charged with murder and he desperately needs an attorney and you come highly recommended.” “Nice to know someone highly recommends me,” Erin said. “What’s your friend’s name and who’s he charged with murdering?” “My friend is Jon Mazer and he’s charged with murdering—” “Russell Marshall,” Erin said, finishing the sentence. DeAngelis took a deep breath. “I guess you saw it on the news.” 

“Gabe, unless I was living in a cave on Borneo, it would be pretty hard for me not to know about the case. A white state trooper shoots a Black newspaper reporter, in the reporter’s home—a reporter who allegedly was working on an exposé of the state police. I mean, the governor, state attorney general, and the superintendent of the state police have all condemned your friend as a bad apple in an otherwise stellar law enforcement agency.” “They’re all full of it!” Gabe shouted. “I won’t argue with you about that,” Erin said. “But from what I’ve read, it still sounds like the state has a pretty solid case.” “That’s exactly why Jon needs you. He didn’t do it. He was the one working with Marshall to expose the corruption within the state police.” 

“Look, Gabe, let me be blunt. I presume you know that I’m a transgender woman, and generally speaking, law enforcement doesn’t have a great reputation within the LGBTQ+ community. On top of that, my law partner, Duane Swisher, is a Black man. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how sick and tired Black people are of being killed by white law enforcement officers.” “Ms. McCabe . . .” “Please call me Erin.” “Erin. I get it, but Jon’s not just any trooper—he’s gay. He’s the only out gay male trooper we’re aware of, and since he was outed, other troopers have put him through hell. They literally hate him.” He bit down on his lip, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “Jon’s a close friend. Trust me, he didn’t do it. You have to help him.” Erin stared at him for several seconds. “Based on the fact that you’re here, I’m assuming he’s in custody.” “Yeah. Bail’s been set at two million dollars. There’s no way he can make that.” “The case is in Middlesex County, right?” Gabe nodded. “Not to be crass, but does he have money to pay for a lawyer?” “We’ll find a way.” Erin reached into her purse and took out a business card and handed it to DeAngelis. “Let me talk to my partner. Do you have a card?” He reached into his pocket, took out a card, quickly jotted something on the back, and handed it to her. She looked at the card, then at him. “That’s interesting.” “Please don’t call my work number,” he said. “I wrote my cell number on the back.” “Can you call me around ten a.m. Monday?” she asked. “Yeah. Ten will work.” “Okay. I’ll talk to you then.” He turned and headed down the walkway toward Nassau Street. 

Once he was out of sight, they made their way down Witherspoon Street to join the others at the restaurant. “You going to take the case?” Logan asked. Erin shrugged. “Don’t know. At this point I don’t even know if he can afford a lawyer. Not to mention, I’m not sure how Duane will feel about the racial overtones of the case. I guess we’ll see.” “How about the fact that, based on what’s been in the press, his friend is guilty as sin,” Logan asked. “Nah. That’s not a consideration. If Duane and I only took on clients who were innocent, we would’ve been out of business years ago.” Logan laughed. “You think Gabe and Mazer are more than friends?” “Don’t know,” Erin said. “But it would explain Gabe’s desire for confidentiality.” “Why?” Logan asked. Erin handed Gabe’s card to Logan. Logan looked down at the card, stopped in their tracks, and screamed, “What the fxxx! Are you shxxxing me? Reverend Gabriel DeAngelis, Saint Raymond’s Roman Catholic Church, Franklin, New Jersey.” “You can’t make this stuff up,” Erin said. “Damn, woman,” Logan said. “You sure do get some crazy-ass cases.”

I decided to read this story based upon the title--Nothing But the Truth--an obvious legal novel which I've always enjoyed. It truly is a fascinating fictional story that comes straight from today's headlines. As soon as I finished, I went out and purchased the first in the series - An Erin McCabe Legal Thriller, to begin catching up on the main character's life.

To begin I want to share a portion of the Acknowledgements section written by the author:

Although this book is critical of some in the law enforcement community, I am sensitive to the fact that there are many dedicated people working in law enforcement—I’ve had the pleasure of working with any number of them. It can be a difficult and dangerous profession. However, those dangers should never blind us to the fact that there is room for improvement in the way the public, and in particular, marginalized communities are treated by members of law enforcement. It is no secret that these are especially difficult times for the transgender and nonbinary communities. Trans and nonbinary folks, especially young people, are under attack by people who deny our very existence and seek to take away our basic human rights. Some have vowed to eradicate us. I am an out, proud, and open transgender woman, and if Erin McCabe as a character offers any lessons, it’s that none of us choose to be trans or nonbinary—it’s not a lifestyle choice or a fad—it’s just who we are. Like everyone else, we are human beings trying to live our best lives possible. So, to everyone in the LGBTQ+ community, and especially those in the trans and nonbinary communities, thank you for your strength and inspiration. Finally, thank you to our allies who stand with us, you are invaluable.

Her words match what I had come to know as truth years ago. Given the ways in which those in this minority community are negatively treated, I knew there was No Way that they would "choose" to become something different than, often, their own family members. And, more importantly, Jesus never listed anybody to be excluded when He commanded us to Love God and Love our Neighbors... In fact, if you believe that God created us, then there really is no justification to treat them differently. And yet there have always been those who do. 

You know, folks, from my perspective as a Christian, none of the prejudices that some people develop and attempt to justify hate and violence against others are valid. Nevertheless, as we have seen, it is only on the individual person level that we can truly know who others are... I don't profess to know how others choose to be as an individual, but then, many would never accept that I find fulfillment in reading and talking about the books I read, instead of some other activities that ar available to me... Yes, in my mind, there really is no difference in being called a "Single Cat Lady" as opposed to being a mother, by a vice-presidential candidate than in hearing any other critical evaluation made from one individual toward another... And, in the political world, in my opinion, the extremes that is happening right now in America is totally unacceptable. I didn't know about the characters identities before I started to read. To me, it didn't matter...

Nuf Said...

Erin McCabe is the main character and is a criminal defense lawyer who is rapidly building a name for herself... Standing tall, literally, beside her is a Black former FBI Agent/lawyer who has become a perfect partner for two individuals who've had some difficult history to go through. Like many of us... BUT, for me, my difficulties may not have been my fault but are the types of things we must all deal with, it seems, especially in the present when after too many years, we are still dealing with those who choose hate, prejudice, fear and violence, to be their life choices. My point? I've never experienced personal hate and violence against me like Erin and those who are "different" in some way. You see, I am a white woman and only recently began to see the total indifference from many who see the elderly as a minority they are not interested in supporting... Or, worse, all women who have had their basic rights for feminine health care taken away from them!

This book centers on those who are targeted...just...because...of...who... they...are... And, all those who love them...just...the...way...they...are!

The book opens when Russell Marshall, a local investigative journalist is murdered in his own home. He was Black and soon an openly gay State Trooper is charged with his death. Marshall had actually been working with this trooper since he was doing an investigation on the targeting of Black and other minorities by a group within the State Troopers known as the Lords of Discipline. Jon Mazer had been working with Marshall on his investigation since he had, himself, filed a Internal Affairs report about being harassed by certain Troopers.  

First they discovered his fingerprints in Marshall's home which then led to the fact that one of his guns was used for the murder. Jon's Priest was the one to contact Erin in the hope that she would agree to defend his friend. She took his card and told him that she would discuss the case with her partner. The primary reason to clear with Duane Swisher, known as Swish, was because of the ongoing killing of black men by cops and whether he could handle working closely with a state trooper. But during the initial interview, it was Swish who began to talk about the costs, leaving Erin to recognize that he was willing to take the case.

What they discovered during an in-depth investigation is truly direct from the news headlines. Indeed, Marshall, the news investigator had uncovered the reality that there actually was a group who worked to bring harm to those who were in non-white groups of people. And, verified that the earlier internal investigation had been falsified. The final draft had been shared and ready for publication... That evening Marshall was confronted and murdered!

Erin and Swish are excellent characters. They are loving to each other, totally committed to their professional relationship, and, have to deal with family relationships just like the rest of us... More specifically, they treat each other and their clients as all should be treated--with sensitivity, concern and a dedication to ensuring they have done the best job they could do in defending their clients.

Lots of kids have to deal with issues over who their parents are. But that’s not a reason to shy away. It’s a reason to move forward. Because it’s only when we refuse to be intimidated and we stand up to the bullies that we can move past the hatred and bias to a place of love.”

You will learn that the haters can be situated in just about any position that is available. You will also learn that those who have accepted an oath to protect may willingly choose to break that oath based upon their own prejudices, biases, or because they have been incited to break their oath by those in supervisory positions. And, importantly, you will learn that those who have been targeted feel just as you might feel if you were discriminated against. Rather, that decisions are often made to support their personal drive for power and higher salaries. And, most of all, you will see and read how those who are focused on hate, speak, act, and strive to ensure that their hatred is known and, ultimately, felt by those toward which hate is pointed. You will read language used by the haters that is obscene, yet you will read it as spoken by the haters. In fact, during the trial, you will explore just how much of that hatred spewed by those haters is acceptable, even to prove guilt.

Erin thought. Rule number one—the person responsible will always try to blame someone else when questioned. “Your Honor,” Erin began, “I will represent to you as an officer of the court that neither I, nor Mr. Swisher, has provided any information to the press.

This is the best legal interaction within a novel that I have read. One significant difference was that the judge herself, was much more active during the trial than I had witnessed even through hundreds of hours enjoying television's Law and Order programs! I like to think that this evolved because of recent television court cases that have been shown. Frankly I enjoyed the judge taking a leading role, rather than leaving it to the prosecuting team to control the activities.

One of the areas that came across clearly in the course of the legal preparation was that both sides needed to know much about all forms of computer technology and how it can be used to create, secure and share. In this case, it came to be the computer experts that led to the final decision... For me, I have no concern about how things can be done, rather I want to know what is possible. There will always be those who strive to communicate secretly, for whatever reason. Bottom line, for me, I learned much simply from reading this book!

One final point, there is considerable discussion about women's reproductive issues, including for minority people. I learned much from this book as well. Women's reproductive rights is uppermost in women's minds these days. Given one party's attempts to move us backward, while science has gained leaps and bounds in improving options in this very personal field, I found myself grateful for the author tackling the legal methods by which women can ensure that their needs are met within the laws but in support of what the medical professionals must address as well. Both were exceptionally well presented with specific issues and character involvement.

This was my first book read by author/lawyer Robyn Gigl. Her skills and expertise in both fields is so revealed that she's given me one of the most comprehensive fictional legal book that I've read in many years. It's an important read for women experiencing today's trauma at the hands of the republican party. Women will begin to understand the complexities of just how many issues that can occur in reproductive health! It will provide women with an exploration of how the doctor, lawyer, family dynamic can effectively occur--even without the government!!! I loved it and will continue to at least read this series...and more... Highly recommended as an addition to my Personal Favorites for 2024!

GABixlerReviews 

“... think about it. Isn’t everyone’s desire to have a baby inherently selfish? Mind you, I’m not talking about an unwanted pregnancy or someone who’s raped, I’m talking about a mature couple that decides they want a baby. Why do we do that? Why do we think the world will be a better place if we create a child?”