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“One other thing. Can you lend me something to drive?”
“Sure, but why not the RAV4?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Where’s the Subaru?”
“Left it in Delco.”
“Okay. Take the Altima, no problem.”
•••
I reached the Devlin & Devlin office and glanced around before I parked at the entrance. It felt good to be in a car that nobody could recognize as mine, without the cops or anyone following me. There were no cruisers in sight.
I got out of the car, hurried inside the building, and opened the door onto our offices, where modern rental furniture had replaced Merrie Old England. Andre was helping Sabrina with her new desktop, bent over her desk. Sabrina looked tired, her graying hair slipping from its ponytail, but Andre was only in his twenties. He was skinny and Black and wore artsy glasses and a light blue T-shirt with jeans.
“Hey, guys,” I said, crossing to them. “Good to see you. Can you meet me in the conference room? We need to talk.”
“Sure,” Sabrina answered, and Andre nodded.
“Thanks.” I could hear talking coming from down the hall and I hurried that way. I was going to call a meeting, though I never had before. I’d planned it on the drive home.
“All hands on deck!” I clapped my hands, sticking my head in my father’s office, who looked up, startled. His fussy furnishings had been restored, and he was arranging files on his imposing mahogany desk.
“TJ, where the hell have you been?”
“Dad, can you come into the conference room? We need to put our heads together.”
“Answer my question.”
“Tell you in the conference room.” I kept going down the hall, stopping in my mother’s office, which looked perfect again, all the family photos and Dante books back in place.
“TJ, what’s going on?” My mother looked up from her new laptop with a weary smile, pretty in her nice black sweater and khaki slacks.
“Can you come in the conference room, Mom?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” I left the office and went to Gabby’s, where she and Martin were at her desk. “Hey, guys, can you come in the conference room?”
Gabby cocked her head. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m new and improved. We need to talk.”
Martin rose. “Fine with us.”
I headed back down the hall and into the conference room, pulled down the sliding whiteboard, and grabbed a black marker from its metal well, feeling like Dry-Erase Virgin.
Everyone filed into the conference room and took seats at the table, and my father started in, “TJ, you owe us an explanation for where—”
“Dad,” I interrupted. “I’m about to explain everything. We have to stage an investigation.”
“What kind of—”
“Dad, let me finish. I have a lot to say, and we have to get busy.”
My father simmered. My mother smiled but didn’t reply. Gabby and Martin exchanged glances. Sabrina and Andre listened politely, since employees didn’t laugh at Devlin family members. At least not to our faces.
