"And your name is Dorothy Blythe?"
Yeah, but you can call me Dot. "That's what I said. Yes. What's the matter?" She sounded genuinely irritated.
He was inching closer. "When did you make the appointment?"
"I don't know. About two weeks ago. I met Curtis at a party in Georgetown. He told me he was an oil and gas lawyer, and I happen to need one. I called the office here, and made an appointment. Now, will you please tell me what's going on?" She was amazed at how well these words were coming from her dry mouth.
"Why do you need an oil and gas lawyer?"
"I don't think I have to explain myself to you," she said, real bitchy-like.
The elevator opened, and a man in a cheap suit approached quickly to join the conversation. Darby scowled at him. Her legs would give way just any second.
Schwabe was really bearing down. "We don't have any record of such an appointment."
"Then fire the appointment secretary. Do you welcome all new clients this way?" Oh, she was indignant, but Schwabe did not let up.
"You can't see Curtis Morgan," he said.
"And why not?" she demanded.
"He's dead."
The knees were jelly and about to go. A sharp pain rippled through the stomach. But, she thought quickly, it was okay to looked shocked. He was, after all, supposed to be her new lawyer.
"I'm sorry. Why didn't anyone call me?"
Schwabe was still suspicious. "As I said, we have no record of a Dorothy Blythe."
"What happened to him?" she asked, stunned.
"He was mugged a week ago. Shot by street punks, we believe."
The guy in the cheap suit took a step closer. "Do you have any identification?"
"Who in the hell are you?" she snapped loudly.
"He's security," said Schwabe.
"Security for what?" she demanded, even louder. "Is this a law firm or a prison?"
The partner looked at the man in the cheap suit, and it was obvious neither knew exactly what to do at this point. She was very attractive, and they had upset her, and her story was somewhat believable. They relaxed a little.
"Why don't you leave, Ms. Blythe?" Schwabe said.
"I can't wait!"
The security man reached to assist her. "Here," he said.
She slapped his hand. "Touch me and I'll sue your ass first thing tomorrow morning. Get away from me!"
This shook them a bit. She was mad and lashing out. Perhaps they were being a bit hard.
"I'll see you down," the security man said.
"I know how to leave. I'm amazed you clowns have any clients." She was stepping backward. Her face was red, but not from anger. It was fear. "I've got lawyers in four states, and I've never been treated like this," she yelled at them. She was in the center of the lobby. "I paid a half a million last year in legal fees, and I've got a million to pay next year, but you idiots won't get any of it." The closer she got to the elevator, the louder she yelled. She was a crazy woman. They watched her until the elevator door opened and she was gone.
Gray paced along the end of the bed, holding the phone and waiting for Smith Keen. Darby was stretched out on the bed with her eyes closed.
Gray stopped. "Hello, Smith. I need you to check something quick."
"Where are you?" Keen asked.
"A hotel. Look back six or seven days. I need the obituary for Curtis D. Morgan."
"Who's he?"
"Garcia."
"Garcia! What happened to Garcia?"
"He died, obviously. Shot by muggers."
"I remember that. We ran a story last week about a young lawyer who was robbed and shot."
"Probably him. Can you check it for me? I need his wife's name and address if we have it."
"How'd you find him?"
"It's a long story. We'll try to talk to his widow tonight."
"Garcia's dead. This is weird, baby."
"It's more than weird. The kid knew something, and they knocked him off."
"Do you think you're safe?"
"Who knows?"
"Where's the girl?"
"She's with me."
"What if they're watching his house?"
Gray hadn't thought about it. "We'll have to take that chance. I'll call you back in fifteen minutes."
He placed the phone on the floor and sat in an antique rocker. There was a warm beer on the table, and he took a long drink. He watched her. A forearm covered both eyes. She was in jeans and a sweatshirt. The dress was thrown in a corner. The heels had been kicked across the room.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Wonderful."
She was a real smartass, and he liked that in a woman. Of course, she was almost a lawyer, and they must teach smartass-ness in law school. He sipped the beer and admired the jeans.
He enjoyed this brief moment of uninterrupted staring without getting caught.
"Are you staring at me?" she asked.
"Yes."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Sex is the last thing on my mind."
"Then why'd you mention it?"
"Because I can feel you lusting after my red toenails."
"True."
"I've got a headache. A real, genuine, pounding headache."
"You've worked for it. Can I get you something?"
"Yes. A one-way ticket to Jamaica."
"You can leave tonight. I'll take you to the airport right now."
She removed the forearm from her eyes and gently massaged both temples. "I'm sorry I cried."
He finished the beer with a long drink. "You earned the right." She was in tears when she stepped off the elevator. He was waiting like an expectant father, except he had a .38 in his coat pocket - a .38 she knew nothing about.
"So what do you think of investigative reporting?" he asked.
"I'd rather butcher hogs."
"Well, in all honesty, not every day is this eventful. Some days I simply sit at my desk and make hundreds of phone calls to bureaucrats who have no comment."
"Sounds great. Let's do that tomorrow."
He kicked his shoes off and placed his feet on the bed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Minutes passed without a word.
"Do you know that Louisiana is known as the Pelican State?" she asked with her eyes closed.
"No. I didn't know that."
"It's a shame really, because the brown pelicans were virtually wiped out the the early 1960's."
"What happened to them?"
"Pesticides. They eat nothing but fish, and the fish live in river water filled with chlorinated hydrocarbons from pesticides. The rains wash the pesticides from the soil into small streams which eventually empty into rivers which eventually empty into the Mississippi. By the time the pelicans in Louisiana eat the fish, they are loaded with DDT and other chemicals which accumulate in the fatty tissues of the birds. Death is seldom immediate, but in times of stress such as hunger or bad weather, the pelicans and eagles and cormorants are forced to draw upon their reserves, and can literally be poisoned by their own fat. If they don't die, they are usually unable to reproduce. Their eggs are so thin and fragile they crack during incubation. Did you know that?"
"Why would I know that?"
"In the late sixties, Louisiana began transplanting brown pelicans from southern Florida, and over the years the population has slowly increased. But the birds are still very much in danger. Forty years ago there were thousands of them. The cypress swamp that Mattiece wants to destroy is home to only a few dozen pelicans."