Free The Fallen Angels Book Club by R. Franklin James Page B

Sorry—Hollis.”
    â€œOld habits die hard.” I sat back in the chair.
    â€œOkay, let’s cut to the chase. Why the visit? It’s been years since the last time I saw you. Then you said, and I quote, ‘No, offense, I’m never coming back here again.’ ”
    I nodded. “What can I say? That’s why you should never burn any bridges.” I went over to his bookshelf. “Jeffrey, do you have a family? I mean—”
    â€œI’m a loner. Don’t avoid my question.”
    I gave him a look to let him know I didn’t believe him. I wouldn’t want ex-felons to know anything about my personal life, either. I placed my manila folder on the only cleared space on his desk. “I spoke without thinking back then. Now I need your help.”
    A crease formed between his eyebrows. “Does this have to do with Norris’ death?” The tone of his voice had changed.
    â€œWhy would you think that?”
    â€œThe police were here yesterday. They requested club members’ background records. They asked a lot of questions about the initial formation of the club and how members were selected.”
    My heart took off in my chest. Breathe. Breathe. “They’ve already talked to me. I’m not here about the club.”
    â€œYou okay?” He offered me a cup of water.
    I shook my head.
    â€œI’m kind of bummed out about the whole thing,” he said. “I thought the club was one of my success stories.”
    â€œDon’t write us off so fast.” I took another breath. “I’m hoping you’ll recommend me for a Certificate of Rehabilitation.”
    He raised an eyebrow but let me go on with my speech.
    â€œAbout two years ago, I assisted one of Triple D’s criminal attorneys who had a very rich client with an errant son. I learned California has a restoration of rights law. I prepared court documents to get his record cleared. Our client worked hard to write a statement and obtain the signatures and references that eventually led to his son’s pardon. I want a pardon, too. Under the penal code, the law permits someone convicted of a crime to petition the court to re-open the case, set aside the plea and dismiss the matter. I’ve done my research and I know I qualify. I completed parole and I’ve kept my record clean for five years.”
    Jeffrey nodded in acknowledgment.
    â€œI know expungement won’t erase my criminal record, but my finding of guilt would be dismissed. I could then honestly and legally answer a question about my criminal history and say that I hadn’t been convicted of a crime. Eventually, I’d submit a request to the court to have it converted to a full pardon.”
    I took another deep breath.
    He gave me a long look. Finally he got up, took a book off a nearby shelf and started flipping through pages. I knew what he was searching for. A Rehabilitation Pardon is usually granted to persons who demonstrate exemplary behavior following a felony conviction. A useful, productive and law-abiding life wouldn’t be enough. The life I’d led had to be stellar.
    Jeffrey wasn’t a large man, but he always looked huge to me. Kind of like a puffin I saw on the National Geographic channel. The bird is relatively small, but to help it survive in a big bird world, Mother Nature gave it guts and the ability to blow up its chest. These talents made it appear just as large and formidable as its peers. That was Jeffrey.
    He set the open book in front of me. “I’m familiar with the petition. They aren’t easy to come by.” His index finger tapped a long paragraph and then, without saying another word, he sat down at his desk.
    I knew it by heart—the checklist of qualifying requirements. “I’m determined. I know what it takes but I think I can make my case. I want to finish law school and take the California Bar.”
    â€œI see.” He fiddled with