Promise You Won't Tell?

Chapter 19

Despite the fact she’s a minor, and should be in school, Kelli Underhill’s sitting at the client conference table.

Also present are her mother, Lydia, and their attorney, Allen Roemer.

Roemer motions me to take a seat. I start to, and he says, “Not there.”

I pull out a different chair, and he says, “Not there, either.”

Two chairs remain. I pick one.

“Not that one,” he says.

There are one million two hundred thousand attorneys in this country, which means six hundred thousand of them graduated in the bottom-half of their class. Why do I always wind up with that bunch? 

After I sit, Roemer clears his throat and says, “Before I start threatening you, is there anything you’d like to say?”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead, then.”

“On the first day of school, a first-grade teacher tells her class they’re not babies anymore. They have to use grown up words. Then she asks the kids what they did that summer. The first kid says, ‘I got a bad boo boo.” Teacher says, ‘No. You suffered an injury. Use grown up words.’ Second kid says, ‘I rode on a choo choo.’ Teacher says, ‘No. You rode on a train. Use grown up words.’ Third kid says, ‘I read a book.’ Teacher says, ‘Good for you! Which book did you read?’ The kid says, ‘Uh…Winnie the Shit!’”

All three of them stare at me slack-jawed.

Roemer says, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I was telling you a joke.”

“A joke,” he repeats.

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“Because when I told Lydia her daughter and her friends were drinking Saturday night, she said, ‘Obviously, this is a joke.’ When I told her Kelli let boys in the house, she said, ‘Seriously, Ms. Ripper. Is this your idea of a joke?’ And when you called me yesterday afternoon the first thing you said was, ‘Ms. Ripper, is this whole thing some sort of joke?’ I just wanted you to hear what a joke actually sounds like, so you’d know the difference.”

“Don’t give up your day job,” he says.

“Too late.”

Kelli says, “What happened to your face?”

“Let’s just say I lost another client.”

Roemer says, “I saw it on the news. Your client shot herself while trying to kill her husband.”

“That’s what they’re saying.”

“Then he assaulted you in front of numerous witnesses. This morning, he publicly accused you of blowing up his garage. Except that you were being treated at the hospital when the explosion occurred.”

“Is there a question coming my way?”

“Are you planning to file a lawsuit?”

“Why, do you want to represent me?”

“That would be unethical, unless today’s business is quickly resolved.”

“Speaking of which…” I say.

“I want you to stop all this nonsense,” he says. “What were you thinking?”

“The same stuff I’m still thinking. Lydia? Where’s your husband?”