The office was bustling with activity by the coffee machine, and all you could think was you wished something might bring actual life into your job. It wasn’t long ago you graduated law school, officially earning your J.D. and you’d been stuck behind a desk.

You knew that was the likely outcome, but you were going through the motions. Once you got the hang of case briefs you desired to put your legal knowledge to work with something new. Less perfected. Something that could take your mind off the looming threat of the bar exam.

The jingle of the bell brings your attention upward. Being front and center going through old case files and no front desk lady to be found, the two strangers in suits approach you. “Agents Plant and Osbourne.” They flash their badges.

“We’re looking for someone we can ask about the case of Leighton Kramer.” You knew every case here like the back of your hand. You just needed to refresh your memory. It was fuzzy but you were certain they were at least talking about this messy lawsuit that was dropped after the plaintiff died inexplicably.

Why would feds be interested in that?