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“Well, whatever, there’s bad news and I can’t sugarcoat it. Joe Ferguson died last night. It was peaceful, and his family was with him.”
“Oh no.” I flashed on Joe and our interview in Marcus Hook. My chest felt heavy at the loss, and the injustice. “I’m sorry.”
“So I’m not waiting any longer, I can’t. I’m going to open settlement negotiations and I scheduled a meeting with the defendants, pre-Complaint. I need you to work the case full-time.”
“Dad fired me, remember?”
“I’ll pay you as a consultant.”
“How? You’re not getting paid.”
“I don’t take a fee for my time, but litigation expenses like paper, pens, or expert and consultant fees come out of the settlement. I can’t pick up the tab for costs. I’m forbidden by the Code.”
“I’m not sure the plaintiffs understood that, and I don’t want to take their money.”
“Okay then, I’ll pay you.”
“Out of your pocket? No way. I’ll work for free until I get a job.”
“What are you going to live on?”
“Rolex-and-Maserati sandwiches.”
Gabby chuckled. “Okay, fine. The meeting is today at two o’clock. I’ll text you the address. Be on time. Wear a suit.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Hey, you’re your own boss now. See you later. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I hung up and rolled over, surprised to see Mango near my feet, curled into a ball.
Aw. I went to pet her, but she jumped off the bed. I’d left my jeans at the foot, and they were covered with cat hair. Oddly, I didn’t mind.
I flashed with an idea, and I got up. I suddenly had something important to do this morning, before my neighbors left for work.
•••
I hustled up the flagstone walk to the Hennesseys’ house next door. It was well-maintained, with a Ring doorbell on the jamb of the front door. I knocked.
After a minute the door was opened by Morris Hennessey, an older mortgage banker who still wore a tie to work. “Good morning, TJ.”
“Morrie, I’m sorry to bother you so early.”
“That’s okay, we’re up. What is it?”
“Do you have a Ring doorbell on the back door?”
“No, why?”
Damn. “My watch is missing and I was wondering if somebody got in through the bedroom window. I don’t lock it.”
Morrie frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. We don’t lock the back window, either. Maybe we should start.”
“Have you noticed any unusual cars on the street lately?” I was thinking of the maroon Volvo, but didn’t want to suggest it.
“No.” Morrie’s eyes flared in alarm. “Do you think that somebody’s…What’s it called,casingthe street?”
“I don’t know but keep an eye out.”
