CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

I'd only been at work five minutes on Monday when a voice said, "Excuse me."

I looked up to find Martha Mintzer hovering at my desk. Martha was a client of Dougie's and not his typical showgirl client. Martha was soft and round everywhere except for her mouth. She was flapping a half-sheet of paper at me that I recognized as the firm's stock memorandum form. We used it for quick, informal reminders to clients of appointments.

"You people scheduled an appointment for me to see a Doctor…" she glanced at the form, "…Finster."

I knew the name, from other cases.

"We didn't schedule it," I said. "It's a routine defense exam. They're entitled to have you examined by their doctor. "

She glared down at me. "Well, no one asked me. I can't possibly keep this appointment. I have a job, you know."

"I know it's an inconvenience," I said patiently. "But when you file a lawsuit—"

"Don't you lecture me," she said. "I have bunions that are older than you."

Lovely. "I don't mean to lecture," I said. "But you should be aware it's standard procedure."

"Missing a day of work to sit in some quack's office?" She shook her head. "This Dr. Finster isn't my doctor. My doctor would see me at night. I'm sorry, I can't do this." She dropped the crumpled memo on my desk. I glanced to Missy for help, but she'd slipped out at the first sign of trouble. Guess she had enough of her own. "Maybe you'd like to speak with Wally." I picked up the phone.

"Wally," she grunted. "I have hemorrhoids older than him,"

Good thing Dougie was already dead because I'd have killed him for signing a client like this. I buzzed Wally and thirty seconds later delivered Martha and her infirmities safely to his door. It wasn't until I got back downstairs that I realized I no longer thought of that office as Dougie's. Sad, how quickly that adjustment could be made. In fact, everyone seemed to be rebounding from Dougie's death. The phones were ringing, and the fax line was buzzing, and clients were coming and going. Victoria Plackett made a surprising reappearance for an appointment with Ken. Howard was out of the office at an arbitration.

Paige had called in sick, leaving a message on the voice mail system, but her empty chair glowered at me on her behalf. I glowered right back. My plans for Paige had to wait. Missy returned to her desk, but seemed sullen and angrier than usual. Between her attitude and Martha's, my stomach was in a twist. It was the new normal at Parker, Dennis, and Heath.

"Can I talk to you?" Missy asked a few minutes later, after the mailman had delivered a rubber-banded stack of mail to her desk and vanished. She began slashing envelopes open.

I kept one eye on the lethal looking letter opener and nodded.

"It's Braxton." Her shoulders lifted and fell in a huge sigh while she pulled mail out of the envelopes, tossing the empties and stacking the unfolded letters into three piles on her blotter for Ken, Howard, and Wally. I noticed a smaller fourth pile to her left. Dougie's.

I had a feeling it might be. "Trouble?" I asked.

"It's getting weird," she said, without specifying what it was. "He stopped by my place last night with a box of cold medicine. Said I'd asked him to do it. I haven't even talked to him lately." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "We're not getting along all that well."

Probably because she was stashing poison at his place.

"That is strange." I buried my face in Wally's latest opus.

"I think he wants to break up with me." She shoved the wastebasket back beneath her desk with her foot. "And right before Ken's barbecue, too. He asked me to clear my things out of his apartment."

Her things? I lifted my head. "I didn't know you'd moved in together."

"We didn't. You know how it is with a guy." Actually, I didn't. Curt was the only guy I had a relationship with, and that was strictly food-based. "At first you take all of your stuff home with you, then gradually things begin staying behind. Sweaters. A pair of shoes. Tampons." I cocked my head, thinking that sounded kind of nice. "I think he's seeing someone else," she said. "I mean, he must be if he wants my stuff gone, right?"

"It doesn't sound good," I admitted. Actually, it sounded great. The truth behind Braxton's call wasn't sinister after all. Suddenly I was more confident than ever of Missy's innocence.

"Yeah." She shuffled the piles of mail into neat square corners. "Hey, would you take the mail upstairs? I want to give him a call and get this straightened out."

Now that I had an explanation for her mood and knowledge that the "stuff" she'd stashed at Braxton Malloy's apartment wasn't deadly to anything but their relationship, I would have agreed to anything. Now I could focus on Paige. And Janice. And Hilary. And if I could redirect Hilary's attention to Paige, the two of them could slash each other to ribbons, and I'd be out of it. No more surprise visits or phone calls or trips to the Black Orchid. I could go back to the normal chores of life, like breaking up my sister's relationship with Frankie Ritter.

With a skip in my step, I began making the rounds. A stack of bills to Janice, two of the envelopes stamped Past Due. She didn't even look at me. A half dozen letters for Ken, all printed on thick, expensive stationery with fancy letterheads. A mixture of both for Howard, with an envelope on top that caught my attention. Missy had slit it open but hadn't removed the contents. She didn't have to. The envelope was custom printed with the return address of Howard Dennis, Sr., M.D. in the upper left corner.

Howard's father was a doctor. Doctors knew even more than pharmacists about poisons. Howard had despised his own partner, would have bought him out of the firm if Dougie had survived. Motive and opportunity, all in one family. My fingers lingered on the raised lettering as I put the mail on Howard's desk. Was it possible?

By the time I stopped debating and got around to Wally, he was nowhere in sight. Maybe Martha had eaten him. I dropped his mail on the desk and turned to leave when my eye was caught by his new artwork: his college and law school diplomas, matted and framed, hanging neatly on the wall behind his desk.

I stepped closer, admiring the gold seals and fancy lettering. He'd attended Villanova Law School with an undergrad degree from Rutgers. In chemistry. I blinked and looked again. In chemistry.

A shiver ran down my spine. It was quiet in this office, too quiet. Where before I hadn't felt Dougie's presence, he now seemed to be tapping me on the shoulder. Wally had repainted and refurnished, but it still held traces of Dougie. Accusing traces. Who better to understand and concoct poisons than someone with a chemistry degree? Especially when that someone was a lowly associate aspiring to the fast partnership track?

"Just when I think I'm getting a handle on things," I muttered. Suddenly I had two new entries for my spreadsheet. Looked like Frankie Ritter had gotten a reprieve.

 

*  *  *

 

Ken and Howard called an office meeting for the end of the day, so everyone gathered in the conference room at five o'clock with varying degrees of irritation. An hours-old pot of coffee sat on the sideboard next to a tray of Danish left over from the last office meeting. No one seemed in the mood to eat anyway. Well, I could have used a bite, but my life philosophy was one of conformance, so I stayed in my seat and dreamed of dinner instead. The atmosphere was tense and expectant, especially when Howard stepped to the head of the table. I couldn't look at him quite the same way. I couldn't look at anyone quite the same way.

"This won't take long," he said, skewering us in turn with nasty eyes that made me wonder what kind of impression he left on jurors. "First I'd like to commend everyone on the smooth transition since Douglas's passing. Now, there will be one more change I'd like to announce. Effective immediately, this firm will be known simply as Parker, Dennis." He paused, and I shot a glance at Wally. Thin lips, red cheeks, slitted eyes. I didn't think this particular transition was what he'd had in mind.

"Also," Howard went on, "out of respect for Douglas, Ken and I have decided to postpone the barbecue to next weekend. I'd like to see everyone there."

There was a spike in the irritation level in the room. Guess I wasn't the only one hoping the barbecue would be canceled outright.

Ken seemed oblivious to the hostility. "If you need directions, Missy was kind enough to print out a set." He smiled in Missy's direction, and all eyes temporarily shifted to her.

Howard cleared his throat. "Finally, I want to assure all of you that the harassment of this firm by the police is over. I believe we've been more than cooperative in providing information and permitting physical searches of the premises. I've informed the chief of police that any further invasion of our privacy will take place only with a court order."

That seemed a bit harsh, given that it was a murder investigation. Besides, I knew from Curt that police officers had no interest in harassing lawyers. Arresting, yes. Harassing, no. I wondered what Howard had to hide.

"If any of you are contacted by the police," Howard was saying, "it's up to you, of course, whether you'll cooperate with them." His eyes slid my way. "Should any of you have anyclose relationships with an officer, I trust you will keep in mind the confidentiality of the firm's business."

That did it. "You're telling us to obstruct an investigation," I said. I'd heard that term on television. It had sounded good then, and it sounded pretty good now.

Wally smirked. "Some investigation. How hard could it be to find out which secretary had it in for her boss?"

That more than did it. I wasn't about to sit there and be insulted by the Boy Lawyer. Not when I was tired and hungry and marinating in suspicion of everyone in the room. I was used to having no answers come my way, but I wasn't used to accusations. I needed out. Maybe for good.

"You know, Wally," I said, "there are grudges, and there are grudges with chemistry degrees and a goal to become full partner." I pushed back my chair and stood while Wally sat and gaped. For me, the meeting was over.