Black Beans & Vice (28 page)

The supper club members had decided to meet at the library during their lunch breaks the next day in order to discuss the details of Gillian's telephone call to Kenneth Cooper's law firm. Even
Lindy, who was usually forced to remain on school grounds until
the bell clanged the official dismissal time, was able to be there.
The student body had been given a half-day to prepare for their
final exams and as soon as the hallways had emptied of teenagers,
the teachers and staff had dashed out to their cars, as drunk on the
taste of freedom and the invigorating spring air as their pupils.

"So what's new in the hot love affair between your future
mother-in-law and Luigi?" James teased Lindy when she breezed
into his office.

Lindy tried to smooth her windblown hair with her fingers,
but her dark, tangled locks refused to be tamed. Helping herself
to a rubber band from his desk, she fastened the whole mess into
a ponytail and smiled. "The good news is that he's mighty fond of
her. The bad news is that she seems to feel right at home behind
the counter of his pizza parlor. She's bossing around his kids as
though she's already their step-mama."

"And why's that the bad news?" Bennett asked as he walked
into the room. He brushed a paper fragment from his postal uniform shirt and sat down in the chair closest to the window.

Lindy's smile shrank. "Because she's delayed her return ticket
for another month. That woman is never going to go back to Mexico! And as long as she's here, Luis can't keep his mind on us!"

Lucy, who had been examining a bookmark listing the top one
hundred bestselling crime novels, gave Lindy a sharp look. "Someone has got to say this to you, so it might as well be me. Luis needs
to pick you first and his mama second. What if she moves here
permanently? What'll happen to your relationship?"

Lindy paled. "Lord have mercy, I can't stomach that thought!
Alma in Quincy's Gap? Twenty-four, seven?" She nudged Bennett
roughly in the shoulder. "Gimme that chair. I feel faint!"

Bennett obliged, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He
turned his gaze toward the door as the clink of Gillian's armloads
of silver bangles preceded her into the room.

"Hello, friends!" she trilled merrily. "Oh, it's so good for my
restless and distracted spirit to be working on a case with you all, to
be truly focused on truth, justice, and restored balance!"

James indicated she should sit at his desk. "Review the plan for
us, Gillian"

Settling back into the comfortable chair, Gillian folded her
hands together and took a deep breath. "Bennett and I spent
several hours reading up on Kenneth Cooper, Esquire. He's represented quite a few drug companies and other giant corporations in lawsuits against individuals, but he's argued copyright
infringement cases as well." Here, she smiled smugly. "As though
the thought was sowed like a magical seed, the idea bloomed in the
deepest crevices of my mind to ask for Mr. Cooper's help in suing
someone who's stolen our Pet Palace plans. I will insist that I only
want Mr. Cooper to represent me, seeing as he's won every single
copyright or patent infringement case he's argued."

Lucy gave Gillian an admiring nod. "That's good! But who will
you pretend to sue?"

"We called Beau Livingstone yesterday and told him about this
crazy plan," Bennett took up the thread. "He got right to work settin' up a website chock full of the same Pet Palace designs shown
on the real site." He glanced at Gillian. "You struck it rich the day
you decided to make that man your business partner. For a former roofer, that guy's got almost as much computer savvy as those
Fitzgerald brainiacs."

James edged around his desk and pointed at his computer.
"We'd better take a look at the fake site."

"Surf away. You'd never know it wasn't as real as the touch of
my hand on your arm." Gillian typed in the URL and then swiveled the screen so that everyone had a clear view.

"Very professional," Lindy said as James clicked links and enlarged images of the Pet Palace designs.

"Who's this listed under the `Contact Us' link?" James pointed
at the monitor.

Gillian followed his finger with the cursor. "To order a Pet Castle, an interested customer needs to email a Mr. Jerry Brickman.
Of course, ole Jerry doesn't exist. Beau set up a Gmail account using Jerry Brickman's name, so he looks legit, but he's just a figment
of my colorful imagination. We used Williamsburg as the company
address because that's the location of Kenneth's law firm. It's also
why we didn't provide a street address."

"That's right," Bennett stated seriously. "We didn't want those
pesky lawyers to call up a fake phone number or drive by some
empty warehouse and call our bluff."

"You two were very thorough." James looked first at Bennett
and then, Gillian. "Are all your designs actually copyright protected?"

Fluffing her hair, Gillian nodded. "Of course. Beau and I have
put in hours upon hours dreaming up the Cockatiel Condo, the
Pekinese Penthouse, the Siamese Suite, the-"

Lucy forced her friend to break off the list by thrusting the
phone into her hand. "I recommend you speak to Kenneth's sec retary first. His partners will know how to keep information to
themselves. We need someone who will feel sorry for you, so get a
woman on the line and then lay it on thick."

Inhaling deeply, Gillian closed her eyes and began chanting
under her breath. James raised his brows and grinned at Bennett
and though his friend shrugged his shoulders in befuddlement,
there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

The supper club members perched on the edge of their chairs
and listened as Gillian successfully navigated through an assortment of gatekeepers until she finally reached Kenneth Cooper's
personal assistant. Her friends knew she was speaking to the right
person because she gave them a quick thumbs-up before spinning
her chair around in order to face the room's only window.

"Mr. Cooper's not there? Are you expecting him back soon?"
Gillian already sounded as if she were on the verge of tears. "A
leave of absence! Oh, what am I going to do?" She hesitated. "Miss?"
Another pause. "It's Katherine? Thank you, it's so much easier to
speak informally. Would you be willing to give some advice to a
lady drowning in a pot of boiling water?"

This question was followed by a long and pregnant pause, but
the answer must have been positive for Gillian's fingers, which had
been curled around the telephone cord, suddenly relaxed and she
began her tale. The fabrication began with Gillian running away
from an abusive boyfriend and finding a safe haven in Quincy's
Gap and ended with her feelings of peace and fulfillment working
with animals.

"Do you have a pet, Katherine?"

The response led to a lengthy sidebar about the merits of the
Boston Terrier. Eventually, Gillian was able to share her good fortune in being able to open her own pet grooming shop and after many years of loving toil, launching her second business, Pet
Palaces.

"Can you imagine what it's like to have this man stealing my
ideas? He's making money from my designs and I hate how powerless it makes me feel." Here, Gillian's voice trembled. "I searched
for lawyers in the Williamsburg area because that's where this thief
is living-probably high on the hog off my hard work too!" She
paused and made a great show of trying to rein herself in. "Mr.
Cooper's name stood out from all the other attorneys because he
has never lost a copyright infringement case. Without his help,
what can I do?"

James winked at Gillian. It was a smart move to end with a
question, leaving the decision with the other woman, whom they
all hoped sympathized enough with Gillian's plight to supply her
with information.

They held their collective breath as Gillian waited for an answer, exhaling in relieved unison as she scribbled something on
James' desk calendar.

"Oh, I see," Gillian spoke soberly. "That is quite a burden for
you to shoulder, but Mr. Cooper is being very brave to confront
his demons. You'd like to introduce me to one of his partners?"
She glanced up at her friends in a panic. "Um, I'll call back! One of
the dogs has hopped off the groomer's table and is shaking soap all
over the mayor's wife. Thank you!" She slammed the phone down.

Leaning back in his chair, Bennett put his hands together and
began to clap. Soon, all the supper club members were laughing
and applauding, but their raucousness died away when Gillian
pointed at the note she'd written on the calendar.

"Kenneth Cooper is not in Williamsburg. His medical leave
translates to him receiving `help' for a 'substance abuse problem' in
Culpepper." She turned to the computer on the desktop and typed
rapidly. "Yes indeed, there is a treatment center there. It would be
easy for Kenneth to take a quick drive to Harrisonburg or Quincy's Gap from Culpepper."

Lindy looked confused. "Don't you have to stay inside once
you're checked into one of those places? I mean, could he have just
walked out whenever he wanted to write notes and kill a bird or
two?"

"You'd think so," Lucy answered and placed her hands on
her gun belt. "Leave it to me. I will find out exactly why Kenneth
needed treatment and whether he stepped foot off the property
for more than a millisecond." She moved toward the door.

Gillian also rose. "How are you going to do that, Lucy? Those
places are meant to protect a person's privacy! It wouldn't be right
for anyone at the facility to share confidential information with
you!" she declared.

"If this guy were the Pope I'd still beat down the doors to discover what he's been doing!" Lucy snapped. "By threatening my
friend, Kenneth has lost his right to keep his secrets!" Passing a
hand over her face as though to wipe away the anger and frustration, she hastily apologized. "I'm open to other ideas."

Gillian waved her off. "You need to do this your way. I shouldn't
feel any sympathy for this man, but I can't keep myself from thinking that perhaps the drugs have turned him into a monster and
that underneath, he could be a good man."

"Maybe," Bennett said as he glanced at his watch. "But it's still
no excuse to set about ruinin' James' life or scarin' his family right out of their skins." He turned to Lucy. "How are you gonna get
those folks to volunteer info on Kenneth? The man's a lawyer, Ms.
Deputy. He is not gonna stand around while you and his doctors
have a nice chat about his medical file."

"That's true," Lucy agreed. "And I could lose my badge, so I'm
going to assign this job to someone else. Someone who's dying to
get back into our good graces."

Having made her mysterious announcement, Lucy told her
friends she'd be in touch and walked out of the office.

"Okay, that's one item to check off the list. What about Tia's
case?" Lindy asked, directing her question at James.

He shared Jane's idea about inviting Ned Woodman's widow
over for lunch.

"How clever!" Gillian exclaimed. "We may have to make her an
honorary supper club member!"

Thinking of last night's marriage proposal, James smiled. "Yes,
we just might."

On Friday, James met Jane at the Town Hall in order to present
their forms of identification to the Clerk of Courts.

As she signed one of the documents the clerk placed on the
counter, Jane looked over at James and whispered, "I feel like I'm
twenty years old again! I have butterflies in my stomach!"

"You are so much better at forty. Smarter, sexier-a woman of
the world." Ignoring the clerk's impatient frown, James kissed Jane
on the lips before she could finish writing her name.

Someone cleared his throat behind them and James looked
over his shoulder to see Scott and Francis Fitzgerald gazing at the
floor, their hands stuffed in their pockets.

"Our witnesses are here!" Jane hugged each brother while they
blushed furiously.

"We are so totally honored to be signing these papers," Francis stated sincerely. "This is a big secret, right? We're the only ones
who know you two are getting hitched again?"

"Yes. Until after we make it official with the justice of the Peace,
that is," James answered. "We'll tell our families and friends when
it's a done deal." He smiled at the twins and then grabbed Scott by
the arm, suddenly alarmed. "Wait a minute. If we're all here, then
who is running the library?"

Scott's eyes darted to the wall clock. "Fern's manning the helm.
We figured we'd scratch out a John Hancock and then dash back.
She should only be alone for fifteen minutes."

On the other side of the counter, the clerk scowled. "I only
need one witness."

Francis and Scott exchanged looks of dismay. "Paper, rock,
scissors!" they shouted and commenced with a series of frenzied
hand motions.

"Two out of three," Francis said as the clerk rolled her eyes.

In the end, the paperwork was completed, witnessed, and notarized.

"You should have your license in the next two weeks," the clerk
droned as James paid her the required fee.