Kristen sat at the end of the table with Rutger, Donna, and some of the other partners.
“Tell us about DataBlast,” Donna said.
Kristen had found the unicorn. One of the people she had called on New Year’s Eve called back two days later. His name was Jason. A hardworking accounting student, the company had given him just a little too much responsibility, and he’d been smart enough to understand what he saw in their records. Kristen had met him at a coffee shop on the Park Blocks. He had a pleasant face and a neatly trimmed beard that made him look older than his twenty-two years. How do you feel about your former employer? she had asked. He said they were a bunch of corporate scumbags. In that case…Kristen had placed her recorder on the table between them.
She had also left a message on the Sadfire Distillery voice mail. She had called after hours, like a shy teenager. Marydale had not called her back.
“Our key witness, Jason Miter, was an accountant for DataBlast between…” Kristen rattled off a list of dates and responsibilities. “He also has a background in computer programming, so he had a basic understanding of the code they were using to cheat thousands of customers out of the pay-per-click advertising they were purchasing.”
No one had really suffered. Thousands of individuals and companies had paid DataBlast to advertise their products—mostly self-published books and weight-loss creams—on the flashing sides of cheap websites and in off-brand search engines. For every ten advertisements they paid for, one or two were actually posted, while a well-designed cookie, downloaded without the customers’ knowledge, projected their own advertisements wherever they looked. When the customer searched the Web, their product was omnipresent. When their customers searched, there was nothing.
“Hundreds of thousands of advertising dollars were lost,” Kristen said, clicking to the next slide in her PowerPoint. A pie chart showed a swath of blue, representing dollars spent without service in return. “Moreover, if we can show that DataBlast customers forwent other advertising opportunities, believing their message was reaching targeted buyers, we can argue that they lost millions in potential revenue.” She adjusted her glasses and regarded the partners.
“The Falcon Law Group hasn’t attempted a class action of this kind for a long time,” Donna added.
“It’s no secret that we’re considering you for partner,” Falcon said. “Usually we’d have several people on a case this size, but Donna suggested you could handle it alone, with her standing in as cocounsel, purely for our clients’ peace of mind.”
“Right,” Kristen said, but she was thinking about Marydale. The morning of New Year’s Day, she had felt Marydale rise and assumed she was going to the bathroom. She had drifted off, but when she woke, the bed was cold.
“We want to try this case by May,” Falcon added.
Outside, the rain had resumed, turning the magical snow into a gray slurry.
“But that is going to require your complete dedication. There is no time for distractions, Ms. Brock. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.”
“Are you prepared for that?”
“Yes.”
One of the younger partners, an attorney from the East Coast who handled their contracts division, added, “Are you excited?”
He was handsome. Donna had always thought so, and occasionally they talked about him over drinks. Kristen couldn’t see it now, and she couldn’t formulate the right answer. Was she excited for a chance at partner? To invest in the Falcon Law Group and, in return, earn a percentage of their sizable profits? To buy a larger condo? A better car?
“It’s my job,” she said.
Falcon laughed. “That’s the spirit. Cool as a cucumber.”
The men left the room, talking over each other and checking their phones. Donna came by her office later and closed the door behind her.
“Rutger is salivating over this settlement.”
“It’s not going to be that much after we settle between all the claimants.”
Kristen tried to focus on Donna and not the streams of rain sliding down the window.
“You’re so cute,” Donna said. “He doesn’t want the settlement. He wants Tri-State Global Advertising.”
Kristen shook her head.
“DataBlast’s competitor!” Donna exclaimed. “Kristen, where are you? He’s wanted them for years. You know that. If the court hits DataBlast with a couple millions dollars, DataBlast is out of business, and Tri-State Global signs on with the Falcon Law Group. That account will make millions.”