Part 8 (1/2)
”There's a restaurant just outside of town. The Country Kitchen. Are you familiar with it?”
”Is that the one that looks like a big log cabin?”
”That's the place. Meet you in the bar?”
”Half an hour.”
”Perfect.”
As the little attorney hurried off, Cora turned on her own lawyer. ”What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?”
”Oh, come on, Cora. You've been divorced before. You know the drill.”
”Yeah, I've been divorced before. But I was the one doing the divorcing. I've never been the G.o.dd.a.m.ned defendant.”
”The process is the same.”
”The h.e.l.l it is. The process is showing the son of a b.i.t.c.h I married is a lying, cheating weasel. This is nothing at all like that. Melvin's trying to prove I lied to him.”
”Did you?”
”Of course I lied to him. He was my husband.”
”That's probably not the way you want to answer that in court.”
”We're not in court.” Cora shook her head. ”Why are you having lunch with the sleazeball lawyer?”
”I got a chance to sound him out, see what he's got. I'd be a d.a.m.n fool not to take it.”
”Sound him out, h.e.l.l. You couldn't even get him to admit Melvin's here.”
”And that's what this is all about, isn't it? The fact that it's Melvin. Look, I don't know what kind of relations.h.i.+p you had with this guy, and I don't wanna know, but the fact is he pushes your b.u.t.tons. That's not good. If it happens in front of a judge, it's gonna cost you money.”
”Everything costs me money,” Cora groused. ”h.e.l.l, I bet you're gonna charge me for your d.a.m.n lunch.”
CHAPTER.
12.
Lennie Fleckstein had a grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich with French fries and a stein of beer.
Becky Baldwin had a field greens salad with vinaigrette and a sugarless iced tea. It was not her usual lunch. Becky was perfectly capable of eating her way through a cheeseburger and onion rings and ate like a bird only when she wanted to emphasize how much she looked like a supermodel. Not that she had any interest in the man. But in what she imagined would be a difficult negotiation, there was no reason not to take advantage of her allure.
Becky smiled at the little attorney. ”So, I'm not sure I understand your position in all this.”
”What do you mean?”
”The check you presented in court. From the law firm of Fleckstein and Stone, attorneys for the late Chester T. Markowitz.”
”What about it?”
”Would that happen to be your law firm?”
”As a matter of fact, it would.”
”You are attorney for Chester T. Markowitz?”
”The estate of Chester T. Markowitz, yes.”
”The man you claim is Cora Felton's ex-husband.”
”There's no ex about it. Unless you're aware of some divorce I'm not familiar with.”
”The man is dead.”
”True.”
”That would seem to make him an ex-husband.”
”It's a fine legal point. We should probably save it for the judge.”
”That's not really where I was going,” Becky said. ”The point is, you're attorney for one of my client's ex-husbands. And here you are, representing another.”
”You're admitting Mr. Markowitz is your client's ex-husband?”
”Alleged ex-husband,” Becky said. ”You're not recording this conversation, are you?”
”Heavens, no.”
”If you were, I would insist on you playing this part of it, where I explain that I have made no such admission.”
”Not a problem. I was speaking casually, too.”
Lennie sipped his beer.
Becky nibbled at her salad. ”I notice how artfully you changed the subject to avoid giving me an answer.”
”About what?”
”The fact you're representing both men. Chester T. Markowitz and Melvin Crabtree. Isn't that a conflict of interest?”
Lennie smiled. ”Mr. Markowitz's interests could hardly conflict with those of Mr. Crabtree.”
”How about collusion, then?”