"Breach Of Promise" - читать интересную книгу автора (O’Shaughnessy Perri)

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NINA THREW THE LIFESAVER IN AFTER HIM.

As it turned out, Mike did not save Rachel. Somewhat the worse for the champagne he’d drunk, Nina supposed, he paddled feebly around shouting her name, his voice indistinct, his image a dark blur upon the darker smear of lake.

Not too far from Mike, Nina saw Rachel clinging to the lifesaver. Apparently she could dog-paddle.

Lindy, who had put her hands over her eyes, now pulled them away. “Mike! I’m sorry, Mike!” She shouted into the blackness, into the stars, and finally into the ears of her guests, who heard her cries and flocked to her side.

“Well, what have we here?” said a tall, skinny woman with short, streaked hair, looking amused as she strolled over to the railing and looked out into the night. “Hey, Mikey!” She waved. “How’s the water?” She turned to Lindy. “What happened?”

“Oh, Alice. I pushed them in!”

Alice put her arm around Lindy. “Well, well, well. I guess you showed him. Who’s the woman? There is a woman?”

“Rachel Pembroke. From the plant. I told you about her.”

“Hair to her hips and twenty-five years old. That’s so classic,” said Alice, nodding.

“Man overboard!” an alarmed man in a silk jacket called. “You okay down there?” he shouted.

“Fine, fine,” Mike’s strangled voice replied.

“Hang in there, pal!”

A large, handsome man sporting a black tie and long hair jostled for a place along the railing. “Rachel? It’s me, Harry. Is that you?”

“Help!” Rachel replied, her voice very faint above the sound of the ship’s motor. “Get me out of here before my legs freeze off!”

Leaving Lindy anchored by a couple of concerned guests, Nina ran for help.

But the captain had heard the cries. The paddle wheel slowed to a stop, the engine drone quieted, and the boat halted. A spotlight-hauled out of a musty cupboard and hoisted by Nina and a young man with tattoos-located the wet pair in the black lake not more than a hundred yards away, midway between the boat and Fannette Island.

Before Harry could remove his shoes and jump in after them, the crew lowered a dinghy into the water and rowed swiftly out, first to Mike, who was closer, and finally to Rachel, whose hair stuck to her body and covered her face like tattered black rags.

By the time the dinghy returned to the Dixie Queen and the pair was climbing a ladder to safety, Nina had relinquished her beacon to a nearby crewman. She was standing at the front of the crowd with Paul.

Someone wrapped a wool blanket around the shivering girl’s shoulders. The music had stopped. The guests bunched together to make room for Rachel and Mike, with the exception of the man named Harry, who glared at Mike as he passed. Lindy stood off to one side like a casual spectator, drawn to the event but uninvolved. Red-eyed, with black mascara streaming down her bloodless cheeks, Rachel walked slowly over to her and stopped.

Nina edged toward Lindy, wondering if Rachel was as angry as she would be under the same circumstances. Taking deep, gulping breaths, the girl just looked the older woman over. “I feel sorry for you,” she said finally. Mike came to her side, took her arm, and they walked away together.

Lindy watched them go.

Afterward, very late, Nina treated Paul to a drink at the bar at Caesar’s and then they went up to bed. Paul was playful and warm, and while her body responded with mindless happiness, she couldn’t yank her thoughts entirely away from the evening’s events. When she finally tried to untangle herself, explaining that she had to get home to Bob, Paul pulled her back.

“Don’t leave yet. There’s something I have to tell you,” he said.

So here it was at last, whatever had been bothering him all evening. “What?” she asked, positioning herself on the side of the bed while a dozen unpleasant possibilities flashed through her mind. Another woman. A fatal illness. He was broke. He had committed murder…

“They’ve offered me a job. A permanent job.”

“They?” she repeated, as her speculations ground to a screeching standstill.

“A private company. Worldwide Security Agency.”

“But… you didn’t go to D.C. to apply for a job, did you?”

“No. I was hired to consult on the design of some new security systems for a block-long office and shopping complex they’re building right outside the city in Maryland. I ran into a friend I worked with years ago back in San Francisco…”

“When you were with the police.”

He nodded.

“And…”

“We were talking, and this thing came up. At first, I thought, no way. Then I discovered I’m interested.”

“I knew there was something.”

Paul, who was facing her, pushed a pillow that had gotten between them out of the way and sat up straighter. “They want me to run all the checks, hire all the personnel, and work with the systems designer to eliminate bugs when the complex opens sometime early next summer.”

When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “It’s a long project, big on money, high on hurdles. My kind of thing.”

“What about your business?”

“I’ve hired a guy to learn the ropes while I’m traveling back and forth between D.C. and California for the next six months or so. I plan to keep the business on a small scale.”

“Until…”

“Until I can come back.”

She didn’t like the way his answer sidestepped the issue so neatly. “What if you fall in love… with Washington? You’d lose everything you’ve worked for.”

“I’m already in love… with Washington,” he said with a sly grin. “That doesn’t mean I won’t come back.”

“You talk like you’ve already decided.”

“Do I?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m just giving it serious thought.”

“Why now?” asked Nina.

“I wanted to talk to you about it. I could have more free time.”

“Free time? For what?”

“There are a few things I’d like to do before they put me out to pasture.”

“Such as…”

“Never mind.”

“No, really. Tell me what you want to do that you aren’t doing.”

He shrugged. “Climb Everest to the top before I croak?”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “You love what you do.”

“Sure,” he said, “but the job does not make the man, my workaholic friend.”

Worried, Nina rubbed his whiskers with her finger. “What about our work here? What about… I thought… I mean. Don’t you want…”

“Nina, it’s not over. Right now, this job in Washington is still long-term, but temporary.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I can keep things alive in Carmel, and maybe come back here when you need me.”

“That won’t last,” Nina said. “They’ll book you for every minute.”

“I need to know how you feel about this.” He waited quietly, and only a slight tension at the corner of his lips suggested to her his question was anything but casual.

She got up, reaching for a hotel robe and covering herself. “I don’t know what to say.” Rummaging under the bed, she located her party dress and underwear.

Paul grabbed for her, taking hold of her wrist. “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy.”

“Okay, Paul,” she said, trying not to blow up under the pressure of the moment, afraid to say the wrong thing and damned if she’d beg him to stay. “Imagine yourself working under a jerk, with a lot of other jerks. Imagine how you’ll love that after being your own boss for years.” Paul had been fired from the police department for insubordination.

“Ah, but I was so much older then,” he said, his tone light again.

Why had he bothered to ask her what she thought of his job offer? He would decide whatever he decided, and she had no real say in the matter. She let herself be drawn back to him. Putting her arms around him, she said, “Don’t…” then paused.

“Don’t what, Nina?” he asked. He had his hands around her waist and had moved his head in closer to her neck, where he breathed softly. “Don’t go?”

“Nothing,” she said. She stayed long enough to leave him happy. Then, slipping back into her clothes, she said good-bye with a kiss to his forehead. She couldn’t tell him how to live his life. They were colleagues and friends. He would come and go, and that was the way it had to be. She could not allow this to drag her down. Right now, she needed the strength of a light spirit in order to carry the heavy weight of her own responsibilities.

Early Monday morning, alone in the office, feeling the way a sculptor might on the day a big block of uncut marble was to be delivered, Nina abandoned herself to a feeling of edgy anticipation. A new case was about to materialize. On Sunday, Lindy Markov had left a message that she would be coming in first thing in the morning to see her about an urgent matter that concerned the party on the boat. When Lindy had assaulted Rachel, she had turned a private problem into a public one, and in America, a public problem usually ended with the parties in court.

Setting an armful of pending files down on the credenza, she squirmed around in the chair until it fit, kicked off her shoes, and picked up the recorder. First case: petty theft, a senior citizen caught shoplifting a carton of Camels from Cecil’s Market after his Social Security check had run out for the month. An ornery man in his seventies, Fred wanted to go to trial on the matter. The trouble was, he had no defense. Better to go to the deputy DA assigned to the case and coax, barter, ingratiate, and con. Maybe she could get the charge dropped.

But not today. Time to get other things mobilized. “Sandy, please set up an appointment for me with Barbara Banning at the DA’s office for tomorrow,” she said into the recorder, clicking it off as a soft knock interrupted the silence.

Nina felt a thump inside her chest as her heart responded within her rib cage like an answering knock. Lindy Markov had arrived, announced by the scent of her French perfume.

And because Nina had been waiting for exactly this-this strained face peeking around the door, that fabulously cut vermilion suit, and that sheaf of official-looking papers in a long, manicured right hand-she felt a thrill run right through her, and she thought, God, I love practicing law in spite of everything.

She got up and showed her to a client chair, making pleasant small talk and pouring coffee. Lindy Markov sat down, pulled a finely embroidered handkerchief out of a brown leather handbag, and blew hard into it, collapsing like someone who has just found a safe haven.

A lawyer’s chair was about as safe as the copilot’s seat in a burning airplane. Still, this spot must be preferable to sitting back in the cabin, choking to death on smoke and not knowing why.

Nina sat across from Lindy at the broad desk. Silence fell. The traffic outside had stopped for a red light, maybe that was the explanation, but the silence between them seemed faintly furtive, as if they had cooked up a scheme to commit illegal trespass and were poised on the verge of it.

“So have you heard anything? Are they all right?” Nina asked at last.

“Rachel and Mike are fine. Nobody’s pressing charges.”

There was another pause. Lindy didn’t seem to know where to start.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Mrs. Markov,” Nina said matter-of-factly.

“Call me Lindy, please,” she said. “And you saw what happened. Don’t tell me you can’t understand why I did it.”

“Yes. I guess I might have pushed them in the drink, too.” Nina smiled.

“My temper got the best of me,” Lindy said. “I just hate it when I do things like that. But you want to know something worse? It actually made me feel better.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And now I pay the price-I just got served with these.” She handed over the papers.

“May I see?” Nina asked, reaching for the papers. While Nina jotted quick notes on the material, she heard Sandy arriving, just in time to catch the first batch of Monday morning calls. Good. She could focus entirely on Lindy.

Lindy had been served two sets of papers. First, an Order to Show Cause why Lindy shouldn’t be summarily evicted from a residence on Cascade Road. In the accompanying Declaration of Petitioner, Mikhail Markov averred that on or about October 10, a Friday night, during a social event, the Respondent, Lindy Hawkins Markov, had begun acting erratically, had threatened the Petitioner, assaulted another guest, and had caused Petitioner to be placed in such apprehension that he was compelled to vacate his residence, leaving the Respondent in possession thereof.

It was further respectfully declared that Petitioner was the sole owner of the premises, as set forth in the exhibit attached thereto and incorporated therein, consisting of a deed in fee simple for the real property, and it was further declared that Respondent Lindy Markov had no right, title, or interest therein, and had been living there for some time temporarily and solely as a guest and invitee of the Petitioner…

“How long have you lived at the house, Lindy?” Nina asked, not raising her head.

“Nine years-almost ten.” Lindy said. Nina flipped to the exhibit. Lindy’s name was nowhere mentioned on the deed to the house and property. Strange. She went back to the petition and declaration, which in dense legalese declared that Lindy now, after repeated demands, refused to vacate the premises. The court was asked to render a judgment finding Lindy guilty of forcible detainer of the premises, to order the sheriff’s office to secure the premises, and to issue a restraining order forbidding Lindy Markov from approaching within two hundred feet of the premises or the person of Mikhail Markov.

“He’s trying to throw you out,” Nina said, translating.

Lindy’s eyes, an unusual amber color, began to tear up, but she blinked hard and lifted her chin. “You want to know something about me?”

“What?” Nina asked.

“My dad didn’t raise me to be a crybaby. We grew up poor, and that makes you strong. We learned how not to lie down and let a truck flatten you when it comes at you full speed.”

“Ah,” said Nina.

“I am not giving up without a fight,” she went on. “But tell me, can he really do this to me?”

“We’ll talk about that in a minute,” Nina said, skimming the second set of papers. Notice of Termination of Employment, said the top sheet. In accordance with Article XIII and Bylaw 53 of Markov Enterprises, Lindy Hawkins Markov had been terminated from her position as executive vice president by the president of the Corporation, Mikhail Markov. In the same manner, she had been terminated as an executive of two subsidiary corporations.

The next sheets looked a lot like the first. Upon a majority vote of the stockholders of Markov Enterprises and its subsidiaries, Lindy was hereby removed from her position as secretary of the corporations and directed to turn over any books, records, or memoranda in her possession relating to her duties and obligations in the said terminated capacity. Exhibit 1, attached to that set of papers, was the written record of the said majority vote of the said stockholders. “Fast work.”

“Mike was in a hurry.”

Nina turned the page to look at that exhibit. Sole stockholder of all stock in the parent company: Mike Markov. Sole stockholder of the subsidiary corporations: also Mike Markov. So the voting had been expeditious.

Why wasn’t Lindy’s name on the stock, too? And the deed? But before Nina could ask, Lindy began to talk.

“I got to the plant this morning at seven, when it opens. A security guard met me,” she said. “He took me to my office. Inside, my secretary was putting my stuff into boxes. They wouldn’t let me touch anything, and people were trying not to look. Oh, no wait, not everyone. Rachel was right down the hall. She watched me. I took a step toward her just to ask her where Mike was and another security man came running. They marched me right out of there like a criminal. Luckily, George came along to give me a hand with the boxes.”

“George?”

“A friend at the plant.”

“Is that when they gave you these papers?”

“No. A sheriff’s deputy came to the house Sunday morning and served me. I just threw them on the hall table and went running like I always do. When I got back, I saw them there, but I had this fund-raiser at the rec department I’d promised to attend, so I just told myself I’d read them later. I never did. I got up and got dressed this morning thinking now that we’d had time to cool down, I’d talk to Mike first thing.” Lindy took in a ragged lungful of air. “After twenty years, he’s dumping me for another woman,” she said, “and I never saw it coming.”

“The bum,” Nina said, unable to hold her tongue.

“Yeah.”

“But… you still love him?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m here? I want you to help me get him back!”

Nina read some more. Something had bothered her during that brief exchange with Lindy. Something about the signatures on the paperwork had begun to register. Casting her eyes down to the signature line on the termination notice she thought, oh, hell, because Mike had naturally gone over the weekend to the biggest law firm in town, and of course had been pincered and gathered into the claws of the greatest bottom feeder at Lake Tahoe, Jeffrey Riesner, the one guy who could spoil all the legal fun she had been anticipating.

Jeffrey Riesner. Just seeing his name on a piece of paper made her eyes itch. Since first meeting him when she’d hired Sandy, Nina had fought a few pitched battles in court against him. Each contest had taken a little more out of her. Always predatory, Riesner was rabid when it came to Nina. He hovered over her like a vulture, watching for the first sign of weakness. Then he pounced.

All she had done was to win a case against him once, and of course, there was that time when she’d sort of stolen his client… but those reasons were incidental, only excuses, not motives for the mutual loathing that descended deep down to the molecular level.

Bad luck that he was representing Mike Markov.

Lindy must have been busy organizing her own thoughts, because she burst into passionate speech. “Mike is not himself. His brother died recently. He told me, ’I’m getting old.’ He checks his hairbrush every day to see how much hair has fallen out. Fifty-five isn’t so old. His health is good. I mean, we don’t jog together anymore but that’s because he’s so busy.

“Then a few months ago he was getting ready to go to work one morning. Counting his wrinkles in the mirror after he shaved. Mad about all the new moles… I asked him if he regretted never having children. He told me he did, sometimes, but he’d always said the business is our baby, and he still felt that way. But before he said all that, he hesitated, you know? Sometimes you can tell people aren’t telling the truth.”

“What about you, Lindy. Did you want kids?”

“I would have loved it, but Mike never wanted them and I accepted that. He needed me to be right there beside him, working the same hours. And I’m so oriented toward work. I guess children weren’t what I’m about. I’m at peace with having none.”

“So that morning, what happened?”

“He studied himself in the mirror like he hated what he saw. Then he said, ’I’m not happy.’ “

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. You know how, even in a warm room, a draft can hit you? I was blown over by the cold air coming off him. But I thought, this will pass. We had been through so much together. We had everything you could want. How could he be unhappy? Was I ever wrong about that.” She inhaled deeply, as if pulling her feelings back inside herself.

“I’m glad you came Friday night,” she said finally. “The only lawyers I know handle business for the corporation, and then there’s Mike’s lawyer. I never needed a personal attorney before.” She took a sip of coffee and smiled tentatively. “You can help me, can’t you?”

Sandy knocked and entered at this suspiciously propitious moment, carrying a retainer agreement that she placed ceremoniously on Nina’s desk. “Forgot to bring this in earlier,” she said.

“My secretary, Sandy Whitefeather,” Nina said.

“Hi,” Lindy said.

“A pleasure,” Sandy replied. “I see you have your coffee.” She glided out as if on rollerblades.

“Is that the same Sandra Whitefeather who organized the Casino Night for the women’s shelter this summer?” Lindy asked, looking after her. “And that protest against logging in the National Forest this spring?”

“The very same.”

“That’s right. I remember reading about her. She was with the group who met with the vice president about returning Washoe ancestral lands along the lake last July.”

“The vice president?”

“That’s right.”

“She was?” Sandy had never mentioned it.

“It’s the first hopeful thing that’s happened in a long time for the native people. You’re so lucky to have her. She’s being considered for one of the boards I sit on.”

“No doubt.” No doubt Sandy would retake all of Lake Tahoe for the Washoe in a decade, but in the meantime Nina forged on. “Before I know what I can do, I have to ask you a few questions, Lindy. First of all, tell me a little more about your relationship with Mike.”

“Well, we met in Nevada at a club called the Charley Horse-that would be twenty years ago in December. Mike was a bouncer. I booked talent, or what we called talent back then. Dancers and comedians, mostly.

“I was pretty good at my work. We even got Paul Anka for a weekend engagement, and a one-nighter with Wayne Newton. I had some money socked away, but I was lonely. Mike was lonely, too. Next thing we knew, we were living together. We both wanted out of Ely so after thinking about it for a while, we decided to start up our own business.

“Mike is an ex-boxer. All he knew was boxing. The exercise craze was just starting then. I got the idea of building a boxing ring as part of an exercise studio, to get the guys in. After a short time living in a trailer outside of town, we moved to Texas and rented a warehouse in downtown Lubbock, did a lot of renovating, and then I went around and put up flyers everywhere. Like that,” she snapped her fingers, “we were in business. The boxing studio worked so well we opened up another one and then another one.”

“Who put up the money to move you and get you started?”

“I did. We used my savings. Plus, a little business loan from the bank.”

“Did Mike contribute?”

“No, he was broke. But he sure knew how to box. He could slug a guy down in a knockout, first round, until some problems with injuries forced him to retire from competition. Seven years later, we got crowded out there so we moved our operations to Sacramento. Politicians would leave the State Capitol Building at lunchtime and come down the street to spar a little. They loved it. That was about the time, thirteen years ago, that I thought up the Solo Spa idea.”

“What’s that?” Nina said.

“A combination hot tub and swimming pool. Shaped like a big tin can, big enough to stand a person up in and let them move around a little, small enough to install inside your house, in the bathroom or the den or the garage. You can soak in it, but the main purpose is for water aerobics and exercises at home.”

As she spoke about the business, Lindy became more animated. She obviously loved her work. “Mike built a prototype and applied for the patent, and we took out a big loan. I modeled for the first brochure. Mike made me hang myself all around the spas in a bikini.” She laughed a little at the memory. “Pretty old-fashioned, huh? But that was a long time ago, remember.”

“Do you still model?” asked Nina.

“I did workout videos to demonstrate the product, but I haven’t done that for years. No, I did a lot of the planning but Mike stayed up front. We used to joke that he was the obligatory man. In a big way, that was true. Even now, a lot of people are more comfortable writing large checks to a man.”

“Hmmm,” said Nina. Maybe that explained the scarcity of big checks awaiting deposit in her own office.

“At first nobody seemed that interested, but then some of the hospitals started recommending it for their patients who couldn’t go to public pools for a lot of reasons. The Solo Spas turned out to be great for relieving arthritis, helping with osteoporosis, oh, all kinds of conditions. Clinics all over the world started buying the spas for physical therapy. That’s when I dreamed up phase two. We designed the smaller, less heavy-duty model and marketed it to the public.

“That same year, we bought the house. We’ve been there ever since. Mike renovated the basement to be his workshop and we called it the corporate headquarters. Money started coming in so fast we couldn’t count it.” She shook her head in disbelief. “We hardly had time to spend it. We both were working so hard to keep up with the demand.”

“Mike was the president of the corporation and you were the secretary of the board.”

“Right. And Mike was the CEO and I was the executive vice president. Several years ago we formed the two subsidiaries, one for the spa business and one for the exercise studios.”

Nina picked up the stock certificate attached to Lindy’s removal notice and asked the question that was bothering her. “Why is all the stock in Mike’s name? Why don’t you have half?”

“Mike hates red tape. He said it would be easier.”

“The California Community Property law will protect you on that,” Nina said. “Right down the middle, I would think. Now, along the same lines, I don’t understand why the house is in Mike’s name, too.”

“Everything’s in his name,” Lindy said, wavering in her control. “The apartment in Manhattan, the house in St. Tropez. The only thing I have is my car, which is a Jaguar-very extravagant, leather interior, two phones…” She blushed faintly. “My biggest indulgence. Then there’s this worthless mining claim my father left me, and my personal bank account, where I put my salary checks-my fun money-”

“Ah. You’re paid a salary?”

“Well-up to today I was. Seventy-five thousand a year. Mike took the same amount for himself. Our accountants said we were employees of the corporation.”

“Have you lived together all this time?”

“Yes.”

“No separations?”

“No. Mike has always been a good man. Faithful. And I’ve been loyal to him. We love each other. We promised to stand by each other through thick and thin in the eyes of God. And we did. This Rachel thing… it’s so unlike him.”

“You obviously know her.”

“Rachel Pembroke. She’s our vice president in charge of financial services. She’s been sucking up to him for months but it didn’t scare me because Mike and I were so tight. This has to be just a crush. Male menopause, like the women’s magazines call it.” Lindy studied Nina’s desk, concentrating hard. “I have to get him back. He’s like bread to me. Like air.”

“Yes,” said Nina.

“I don’t like to analyze things too much. My way of dealing with problems is to act. I can’t just sit on my hands and do nothing. That’s why I need to talk to Mike, Nina. Then he’ll come back.”

“I hope so,” Nina said. “But have you considered the possibility that he won’t come back? That it’s over between you?”

“I’m considering that now.”

“How much do you reckon your companies are worth, Lindy? Do you have any idea?”

“Depends on who you ask. At our last audit, not quite two hundred fifty million dollars for everything, lock, stock, and barrel,” Lindy said. “Mike would say more like one hundred with equipment wear and tear, depreciation, all that jazz figured in.” Coming from her mouth, the amount sounded as prosaic as pudding.

Nina sat back in her chair. “That’s… a lot of money.”

“It’s not like there are piles of it lying around. Mike calls it the lifeblood of our business. We don’t personally get to spend it. Well, not usually. So tell me. What do you think? Will you be my lawyer?”

“Let’s get to that in a minute. There’s something I should tell you first. Mr. Riesner, your husband’s attorney, normally is a litigator-his business is to try cases. If your husband has retained him, I think we have to consider the possibility that you and Mike might not reconcile-that this might be the opening salvo of a divorce case. At least I can tell you that we will handle whatever comes. California’s law is very clear-all property obtained in the manner you’ve described, during your marriage is as much yours as his, even if he’s splashed his name all over everything.”

“No!” Lindy said. “This can’t happen. No litigation. I just need to see him…”

“Well, let’s take it step by step. You want to talk to Mike. I’ll call Mr. Riesner and try to set up a meeting. There’s a hearing on this eviction notice set for November first, about two weeks from now. No reason Mike should live there instead of you, is there? It’s half yours, no matter what the deed says. It’s community property. As far as the termination and your removal from the board, I think it’s probably illegal, since you’re actually a half owner in the company. I can’t understand why you let him do that, put everything in his name.”

“He just… he was so touchy about it. We’re a unit, Nina. You see? What difference did it make?”

“Not much. Since you were married and the law protects you.”

Lindy leaned over the desk and stared at Nina with red-streaked eyes.

Nina thought, she has to understand somewhere behind those weary eyes that he is never coming back. But there are things I can do to help her get through all this. I can handle her legal problems. It’s a major divorce, and they’ll put up a fight, but when it is over, she’ll be a very wealthy woman worth millions of dollars. A mountain of millions.

For once, a big, easy case, Riesner notwithstanding. Some good hard work, some hand-holding, a great big fee. An enormous fee, a lawyer’s coin in the fountain. Nina observed in herself a feeling she did not welcome, the first faint stirrings of greed.

While she berated herself silently, Lindy spoke.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Nina asked.

“I’m telling you that Mike’s a good man. A decent man. He promised me we’d always share everything. He just never wanted to-I never could get him to-”

Riding high on her excitement, Nina felt ready to handle anything. “To what?”

“What I’m trying to tell you is…” She paused, her mouth open. She closed it, swallowed and tried again. “Mike and I never got married.”

You could have heard a pin drop. Or a telephone receiver, when Sandy, eavesdropping in the outer office, dropped hers. Or a big, easy case dropping right off the winnable spectrum.