Please understand. Please understand. Please understand.
It was hard to predict how my mom would react. Growing up, we hadn’t shared the close relationship that many mothers and daughters do. She worked hard and never deprived me of anything, but it was Nan who had put in the emotional work raising me. Nan had always been the one I came to with my secrets, my dreams, my fears. Mom supported me in everything I did, but she was also so busy living her big life that being a mother sometimes felt too small by comparison.
I think this was a big part of the reason I hadn’t settled down myself yet—not just the whole starting a family thing, but also really committing to a single career path. I liked having my options wide open and only being accountable to myself—well, and my cat, too. I couldn’t imagine the pressure my mom felt whenever her home and work lives collided, and especially when they crashed into one another as was the case with my request today.
“We all know he did it,” my mom said in little more than a whisper. “Besides, I heard my piece might get picked up all across the state and maybe even farther out on the Eastern seaboard, too.”
I inhaled sharply before revealing, “Mom, my firm is defending him, and now I’m helping with the case, too.”
It took a moment for her to respond. When she did, she didn’t seem at all sure of the words she spoke. “Perhaps you could recuse yourself. We all know paralegaling isn’t your real passion, but sharing important stories with the public is mine. Please, Angie. I don’t want to hurt you, but can’t you see that this is my big shot at finally breaking out of local news?”
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask unless it was really important.”
“We’ve already been advertising it, too,” she said, her voice getting weaker with each syllable.
“So I heard.” I racked my brain for a solution that would satisfy both of us, finally landing on something that I thought might work. “Tell you what. Do you think you can hold the story until Friday? That will give us some time to work on the case without the added cloud of bias.”
Mom’s words came out a little surer. “Okay, but what happens Friday?”
I presented the first option with as much as enthusiasm as I could muster. After all, it would be the better option for both of us, and I thought maybe that saying it aloud would give it more of a chance of actually coming true. “Either we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Brock Calhoun is not guilty, and we give you the exclusive right to break our story.”
“Or?” Something rustled on the other end of the line, and I pictured my mom twisting nervously in her seat as she waited for me to make my full offer.
“You run it as-is and I won’t try to stop you.”
The line went silent for a frighteningly long time.
At last, my mother returned, her voice sweet and placating. “Honey, are you sure? You seem really upset about all of this.”
I gulped down my anxiety. The clock had been set, and already it was ticking. “I’m sure. Thank you, Mom. If anyone at the station gets mad at you, send them over to me.”
She laughed, and I felt all the stress we’d each been holding bubble up and float away into the sky. “I just might have to do that,” she said with a sigh. “I love you, Angie. Good luck on the case,” she added before ending the call.
Yes, luck—Charles and I would definitely need it. We’d also need a certain pair of talking animals to get over their hang-ups to help us figure out some new leads. Otherwise, we might as well sign Brock’s sentence now, because we seemed to be out of any other reasonable avenues for his defense.
Perhaps I’d stop by the grocery store and pick up some fresh shrimp as a way to bribe Octo-Cat into spending more time with Yo-Yo. Here’s hoping my feline friend loved shrimp more than he hated dogs.
Chapter Six TUESDAY
I awoke the next morning with a growing sense of dread lodged right between my lungs. The weight of knowing that Brock’s freedom seemed to now rest squarely on my shoulders made it difficult to catch my breath.
I couldn’t let him—or Charles—down. I also wanted to find the real culprit and secure justice for poor Yo-Yo, who still had no idea his owners were even dead.
Despite my vow to never come to the office before nine in the morning, I sucked it up and headed to the firm almost as soon as I could string a coherent thought together.
As expected, only Bethany had arrived before me. I’d never understand why she insisted on showing up so early every single day, but at least she looked happy to see me when I knocked on her office door to say hello.
The cloying and heavy scent of citrus combined with freshly brewed coffee to create a nauseating aroma as I breezed into her office. Bethany may have become a softer, kinder person lately, but the one thing that would never change was her obsession with essential oils. Hey, everyone had their weird little things. I definitely wasn’t in any place to judge.
Besides, Bethany was my own personal hero these days.
After I got electrocuted by the old office coffee maker, she brought in a Keurig machine, which she kept in her private space rather than the common area. Honestly, I was still terrified of that horrible appliance in all its forms but—much to my surprise and relief—Bethany had kindly taken to brewing me a cup each morning. I never needed to ask or to work up the courage to press the brew button on my own.
Thus her having become one of my favorite people lately.
“Good morning,” she said with an alert smile on her fair face. My guess was she’d already imbibed two to three cups before I even arrived. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah,” I said with a tiny wave hello. “Seeing if I can help Charles with the Brock Calhoun case.”
Bethany rose to approach the coffee maker, and I was so happy I almost hugged her right then and there. Bethany and I were slowly becoming friends, but making physical contact would probably be more of a detriment than a boon to our relationship. She usually avoided hugs, handshakes, and the like whenever she could. Maybe it was something about being the only female associate at our firm, or maybe it was just her personality. Whatever the case, I knew better than to judge the woman responsible for caffeinating me five days out of seven.
“You know,” she said as she popped a morning blend cup into the machine. “I was really surprised Thompson assigned such a prominent case to our newest associate. Honestly, it’s one he should have handled himself.”
I shrugged. “Maybe everyone else was too busy to add to their workloads right now. We have been getting a lot of business ever since… you know.”
She took a couple steps closer to me and lowered her voice. “I know but—and please just keep this between you and me—I had time to help, and I’m pretty sure Derek and some of the others could have made time, too.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Bethany dropped her voice even lower. “I’m saying that I think Thompson gave this case to Charles on purpose, knowing he’ll probably lose it.”
“And?” I may have been awake enough to drag myself to the office, but my real thinking ability wouldn’t kick in until after I’d drained my first cup of joe.
“Well, think about it. Charles is brand new to the firm. When he loses what amounts to a more or less impossible case, it’ll be easy for Thompson to fire him and move that stigma away from the firm.”
“Like a sacrificial lamb?” Even as I questioned her, I knew Bethany was right. Our senior partner definitely wasn’t above such underhanded tactics.
Her eyes glowed an unnatural hue as she nodded. “Exactly. That way Thompson gets to keep enjoying our new-found wave of success without having to worry about one notorious trial dragging him down.”