Dime Store Magic (8 page)
"So Leah has a lawyer and everything? What is he? A sorcerer, I bet."
"Yes, but there's no need to worry."
"Oh, I'm not scared of any sorcerer. Or any lawyer. You know, we should get one."
"I was just about to call Mr. Cary."
"I meant a
sorcerer
lawyer. They're really good at it. All the best sorcerers are lawyers. Well, until they get older and become politicians.
That's what my mom always said."
Here was the perfect opening for a query that might help answer the question of Savannah's paternity, something like "Did your mother, uh, know a lot of sorcerers?" Of course I didn't ask. I never asked anything about Eve. If Savannah wanted to tell me, she would.
"Witches don't work with sorcerers," I said.
"Oh, please. That's for Coven witches. A real witch works with anyone who can help her. A sorcerer lawyer could help, as long as we picked carefully. Most of them are real jerks—they won't have anything to do with witches—but Mom knew a few who'd take a case like this, if you paid them enough."
"I'm not hiring a sorcerer. I'm getting a human lawyer."
"Are you serious? Don't be stupid, Paige. You can't—"
"Why can't I? They won't be expecting it. If I get a human lawyer, Leah will need to handle this case by the books. The
human
law books. No secret meetings discussing sorcerers and Cabals—"
"What about the Cabals?"
"I'm just saying, they can't talk about that kind of thing in front of a human lawyer. If they want to play by human laws, let them. I'll play right along."
She frowned, and leaned back into the sofa cushions. "That might not be such a stupid idea after all."
"Glad you approve."
Friday morning started off feeling very familiar. Like the day before, I decided to keep Savannah home from school, picked up her assignments, took her to Abby's, then returned to the Carys' law office for another ten o'clock meeting.
This time my meeting was with Grant Cary, Jr. Yes, I chose Grant junior. Despite my misgivings about the guy's moral compass, he was a good lawyer. He knew me… well, not as well as he'd like, but well enough. When I spoke to him on the phone yesterday, he seemed interested in the case and we'd arranged to meet at ten. I'd set up a conference with Leah and Sandford for eleven.
I'd been sitting in Cary's office for twenty minutes, gazing out the oversized window behind his desk while he read through my papers. So far everything had gone well. Other than a lingering look at my boobs when I walked in, he hadn't done anything untoward. I'd probably been too harsh on the guy. I seemed to attract a lot of Cary-types—forty-something married guys who see me, if not as a gorgeous blonde who'd look great on their arm, as a young woman who might enjoy and appreciate the attention of an older man.
From what I'd seen of Grantham Cary II, he likely hit on every younger woman he met. You know the type. All-American boy of 1975, the town's brightest star, every girl in town wetting her pants if he so much as looked at her. Fast-forward to 2001. His weekly golf game no longer keeps his love handles in check, he's recently resorted to a slight comb-over to cover that growing bald spot, he squints to avoid wearing the bifocals he hides in his desk drawer, and he spends his days in an office filled with
decades-old sports trophies. Still a good-looking guy, but these days more likely to be coveted for his bank account than his biceps.
"Well," Cary said, returning the last sheet to the stack. "This certainly is unusual."
"I—I can explain," I said. I could?
"Let me guess," Cary said. "You're not really a witch and this is simply a ploy to gain custody of Savannah by dredging up an uncomfortable element of East Falls's past and playing on the historical paranoia of this particular region of New England."
"Uh, yes," I said. "Something like that."
Cary laughed. "Don't worry, Paige. It's a very transparent scheme obviously dreamed up by folks who don't know much about modern-day Massachusetts. You say this man, Kristof Nast, has no proof that he's Savannah's father? But I assume he's willing to submit to a DNA test?"
"DNA?"
"We can't just take his say-so on the matter."
Of course they couldn't. This was a human court, which played by human rules. A court that wouldn't understand why Kristof Nast couldn't submit DNA. Any supernatural knew that we couldn't risk having humans study our DNA, but to a human judge, it was evidence so easily given that to refuse would be tantamount to an admission of fraud.
"He won't give DNA," I said.
Cary's brows shot up. "Are you sure about that?"
"Absolutely," I said, breaking into a grin. "Is that good?"
Cary leaned back in his chair and laughed. "That's better than good. It's wonderful, Paige. If Sandford's client refuses to submit DNA, he has no case. I'll see to it."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You haven't seen my bill."
He laughed loudly, as if unaware this was a very old joke, but I was in the mood to be generous, so I laughed along. We spent the next thirty minutes discussing the case. Then we wrapped it up and prepared for the meeting with Leah and Sandford. I hadn't told them Cary was representing me. They thought they were coming for a private conference with me.
I do love surprises.
I was sitting in the meeting room, alone, when Lacey ushered in Sandford and Leah on the dot of eleven o'clock. Cary had agreed to wait a few minutes before joining us.
Leah fairly bounced in, like a kid on Christmas morning. Sandford followed, trying—but not very hard—to conceal a self-satisfied smirk.
"Do you have the papers?" I asked, injecting a quaver into my voice.
"Of course." Sandford slid them across the table to me.
For a few minutes, I stared down at the pages that Would relinquish my custody rights to Savannah. I inhaled deeply.
"I know this is tough," Leah said, her voice stuffed with gloating sarcasm. "But it's for the best, Paige. It really is."
Another couple minutes of staring at the pages, replete with tortured sighs. Then I said, "I can't do this."
"Yes, you can," Sandford said.
"No, really, I can't." I shoved the papers back to him, with a grin to mirror his. "I'm not giving her up."
"What?" Leah said.
"Oh, it was a clever plan, I'll give you that. Threaten me with exposure and make sure the Elders hear about it. If I don't cave, they'll force me.
Well, you underestimated the Coven. With their support, I'm fighting this petition."
The look on their faces was a memory to cherish forever.
"And what does Margaret Levine say about this?" Leah asked.
"You want to know?" I asked. I lifted the phone. "Call her. I'm sure you have the number. Call all the Elders. Ask them if they support me."
"This is bullshit." Leah aimed a glare at Sandford, as if it was his fault.
"No," I said. "It's not bullshit. I assure you, I understand that this is a serious legal matter and, as such, I'm treating it very seriously. To that end, I've hired legal representation."
I walked to the door and waved in Cary, who'd been waiting in the hall.
"I believe you've met Mr. Cary," I said.
Their jaws dropped. Okay, they didn't actually drop, like in the cartoons, but you get the idea.
"But he's a—" Leah began before stopping herself.
"A damn fine lawyer," I said. "And I'm so glad he's agreed to represent me."
"Thank you, Paige." Cary's smile held a bit more personal warmth than I liked, but I was too happy to care. "Now, let's get straight to the heart of the matter. About the DNA test. May I assume your client is willing to submit to one immediately?"
Sandford blanched. "Our—my client is a… a very busy man. His business interests make it quite impossible to leave Los Angeles at the moment."
"Otherwise he'd be here now," I said. "Hmmm, doesn't that seem odd?
He's so interested in gaining custody of his daughter, but can't find a few days to fly out and meet her."
"He could provide the sample in California," Cary said. "Our firm may be small, but we have contacts in San Francisco. I'm sure they'd be happy to oversee the testing."
"My client does not wish to submit to DNA testing."
"No DNA, no case," Cary said.
Sandford glared at me.
"Checkmate," I said. And grinned.
When Sandford and Leah left, Cary turned to me and smiled.
"That went well, don't you think?"
I grinned. "Better than well. It was perfect. Thank you so much."
"With any luck, it's all over. I can't imagine them pursuing the case without DNA." He checked his watch. "Do you have time for coffee? We can discuss the final details before my next appointment."
"Details? But if it's over… ?"
"We hope it is, but we need to cover every contingency, Paige. I'll let Lacey know we're leaving."
Shot Down
CARY AND I WALKED TO MELINDA'S BAKERY ON STATE
STREET. Even by my jaded big-city standards, Melinda's was a first-rate bakery. The coffee alone almost made living in East Falls bearable. And the scones? If I ever persuaded the Elders to let us move, I'd be making weekly runs to East Falls for Melinda's raisin scones.
I would have preferred a window table, but Cary selected one near the back. Admittedly, even the main street of East Falls has little to offer in the way of people-watching and, since we were discussing confidential legal matters, I understood why Cary picked a more private seating arrangement.
When we sat down, he pointed at my scone. "I'm glad to see you're not one of those girls who's always on a diet. I like women who aren't afraid to look like women."
"Uh-huh."
"The girls these days, dieting until they're so thin you can't tell if they're a boy or a girl. You're different. You always look so—" His gaze dropped to my chest. "—put together. It's so nice to see a young woman who still wears skirts and dresses."
"So you think they'll drop the case?"
Cary added three creamers to his coffee and stirred it before answering.
"Reasonably certain," he said. "There are a few more things I need to do."