One Dead Lawyer Read Online Free PDF Page A

feared me. I stood where I was. My intentions were not to be a threat. I was stepping closer to hear her, because I couldn’t have heard her right.
    â€œHe wants to adopt Chester,” she said again.
    â€œHow is he going to adopt a boy who already has a father?”
    â€œIt’s legal, David. When we marry, he can adopt Chester, giving him his name and making him an heir to his estate.”
    â€œYou have lost your cotton-pickin’ mind if you think I will give my son to any man walking this earth!”
    â€œIt will benefit Chester.”
    â€œYou know what, Gina? It’s really time for me to leave.”
    I turned away to leave.
    To my back she said, “David, please don’t fight this. You can still spend as much time with Chester as you like. It’s a simple name change, a name change that will set him up for life.”
    I wanted to turn around and look at her eye to eye, but I didn’t. I didn’t trust myself not to hurt her. She was talking about a white man adopting my son. I had to get out of there.
    â€œYou know what, you can bend over for that crook if you want to, but you won’t be offering him my son. I’ll see you and that shyster in court.”
    â€œIf you take that attitude, Randolph will start the proceedings before we are married. He said he is willing to fight for Chester. He has been in his life longer than you.”
    At that I turned around. This broad had balls. She flipped open the folder to show me some papers, I slapped it out of her hands and the papers scattered across the table.
    â€œAnd whose fuckin’ fault is that? You kept Chester a secret from me!”
    She didn’t have an answer. She stood there looking through me. Man, I was out of there quicker than a Michael Jackson’s dance skip. I needed major space between me and that . . . that . . . that . . . woman!

Chapter Three
    I was outside at my Caddy patting the pockets in my shorts for the keys. I didn’t have them. The night air was heavy and hot, and sweat was dripping from my bald head down the back of my neck. My keys must have slid out of my pocket while I sat on the sofa. I patted my pockets again for my cell phone. I’d left it at home.
    I looked down the dark block to the traffic on 159th Street and wondered about my chances of catching a cab at one-thirty in the morning in Harvey, Illinois.
    Maybe I could get a gypsy cab, was my thought.
    As I started walking, a gold baby Benz pulled alongside my DTS. At first glance I thought it was my business partner, Carol, but it wasn’t.
    â€œDavid is that you?” a female voice called from the small sedan. “Good, it is you. I came out here hoping Regina would be able to get in contact with you tonight. I need your help.”
    It was Regina’s friend Daphne. As pissed as I was at Regina, all her friends, her mama, and her dead daddy could have kissed my ass. I acted as if I didn’t see the car or hear a word she said. I turned and started my walk toward 159th Street.
    Regina’s front door suddenly swung open and she screamed for me.
    â€œDavid! Chester is hurt!”
    The alarm in her voice drew me up the porch stairs, past her and straight into the house. Chester was at the foot of the stairs crying, holding his foot; blood was seeping through his tiny fingers.
    â€œDaddy, Daddy, my feet, my foots, my toooe!”
    I lifted my son and gently pushed his small hand aside. He’d sliced his big toe open. The cut didn’t look severe. I carried him to the kitchen and rinsed his foot in the sink. I covered his cheeks with kisses while the cold water cleared away the blood.
    It didn’t take two minutes for him to go from crying to laughing. The splashing cold water tickled his feet. Regina brought us a First Aid kit. A quick rinse of hydrogen peroxide, a dab of Vaseline, a Band-aid, and a kiss on all ten toes, and my little trooper was none the worse for wear.
    I carried him up to