Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 03 - The Recorder's Way Read Online Free PDF Page B

clients. I assume there is one subject you are concerned about?”
    “The usual . Business dealings, family connections, habits.” Mrs. Clapton ate another sandwich, before adding, “That sort of thing.”
    “Is he non-communicative?” Helen’s mother asked.
    “Oh, it isn’t that!” Millicent interrupted.
    “I’ve informed Millicent.” Mrs. Clapton looked adoringly at her somewhat ugly daughter. “It’s best not to encourage a man one knows so little about. For instance, Helen, did you know I dated your father, before he caught sight of your mother?”
    Millicent dropped her eyes and spoke softly. “George Clemmons doesn’t yet know I’m interested.”
    Julia Costello spilled her tea onto the immaculate white carpeting.
    ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
    Later the same afternoon, Helen explained to her father, “Mother says we should return the check.”
    Andrew shook his head. “George Clemmons? His son, no doubt.”
    Max moodily flicked paperclips into a wastebasket across the room. “ Didn’t we say there would be cases we didn’t need? Andrew, is it three o’clock? Should I call Sally Bianco at home?”
    “ You dated that mean Mrs. Clapton.” Helen could see why her father had ended any contact with the vindictive woman. “Give her another hour, Max. Sally doesn’t move that fast anymore.”
    Andrew nodded sheepishly, waving his hands as if his opinions were of no consequence.
    Max changed the subject by plowing his own field. “ Why can’t I stand that creep? What’s his name? Brent? Do I feel sorry for his wife?” He tossed another paper clip. It bounced off the wall into the plastic basket. “Why does Brent act like he purchased his wife at a dime store?”
    “Dime stores don’t exist, never did as far as I know.” Andrew shook his head. “You said you wouldn’t take cases involving gun-packing clients. I never agreed to judge who else could or could not be investigated. You kids aren’t going to stay in business long with this attitude. What are we going to do? Hand back $30,000?”
    Helen felt she should take off her shoes or wash her hands. A shower would help. “I know we owe you money, Dad.”
    “Andrew,” he said.
    “Why worry your dad about a guy we don’t even know?”
    “It’s not like you know Mrs. Brent.” Guilty about sparring with Max, Helen asked, “What’s her Christian name?”
    “Anita Brent , isn’t it?” Max shook his head at the distasteful tasks they’d undertaken.
    For the first time, Helen experienced a profound sympathy for her partner. They had not agreed to start The Firm to get rich. “The Truth.” Helen was surprised to hear herself say the two words aloud. Max turned in her direction and shrugged. Helen walked toward the computer chair he was sitting in. She hadn’t repeated their motto to nag him. “We never knew recording the truth would be this sticky.”
    “Gruesome ? Were we idealists?” Max reached out his hand as she passed behind him.
    When she touched his huge hand, he gripped hers. The warmth of his hand , or the meaning of the gesture, softened her heart, even more. Helen quickly withdrew her hand.
    Max s wung his chair towards her. “Did you know cats pull away when they want to be petted?”
    “George Clemmons.” Andrew interrupted their interplay. “I remember now. Your mother dated him big-time, before I got in the picture.”
    “I wondered why she was upset.” Actually, Helen’s mother refused to discuss the Claptons’ visit or George Clemmons, the younger.
    “Mrs. Clapton knows they dated.” Andrew positioned his chair to start searching the Web. “I always thought I broke your mother’s engagement with George.” He spoke over his shoulder to Helen. “Don’t bother your mother anymore about the guy.”
    “ Okay.” Helen felt unaccountably worried. “Mrs. Clapton gave me a creepy feeling.” Her father wasn’t listening so she addressed Max. “Didn’t she act gleeful?”
    Andrew turned in the swivel chair to