“Why did they fire us? When did this happen?”
“This morning.” Bennie didn’t want to dwell on it. “Nate wanted me to represent OpenSpace against Mary, and I wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh no.” Judy groaned. “So he pulled all his work?”
“Yes, but I have plenty of other clients, as you well know, and I don’t want this blown out of proportion. And especially, you should not tell Mary.”
“Why not? You did such a nice thing for her. She should know. She’d feel terrible.”
“And that’s why.” Bennie switched tacks. “And besides, you and I both agree that there’s a conflict of interest, even if she disagrees. There can’t be any further talk to her about our relationship to Dumbarton. It’s divulging confidential client information, and we have to be a lot more observant of these boundaries, especially now.”
“Oh man.”
“It’s even in her best interest. If Nate really goes forward with those disciplinary charges, the less Mary knows about Dumbarton, the better. Understood?”
“Yes, but this sucks,” Judy said after a moment. “And I know she’ll feel even worse, leaving the firm after you did that.”
“Again, not a word.”
“Not a word.”
“Good.” Bennie wanted to return to the subject. “So I hope you’ll stay with the firm.”
“I just need to think about it and try to make a decision. You don’t mind if I take some time to think, do you?”
“No, of course not, you can take all the time you need to decide. You know the players and the practice, and you know what I have to offer you.” Bennie felt Declan tap her on the arm and looked over to see him holding up his phone. He had written on it: sweeten the deal. offer her something.
Judy was saying, “That’s really sweet of you, Bennie. I do appreciate it. I know this can’t be easy for you.”
“For you either.” Bennie took Declan’s suggestion. “But let me mention something else for you to consider. You know how you and I have talked in the past, and we decided that you would probably be making partner next year.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, it occurred to me that we could accelerate that, if you wanted.” Bennie caught Declan’s eye again, and he grinned, shot her a thumbs-up, and went back to his ballgame.
“Really?” Judy said, sounding interested.
“Yes, to be perfectly transparent with you, I am probably going to have to downsize the offices if Mary goes. The overhead is too high for me to handle alone, given cash flow, but that’s not the end of the world.” Bennie put on a brave face, which was her version of makeup. “We’ll have to reconfigure everything about the firm. Start fresh. This might be the perfect time for you to become a partner.”
Judy fell silent a minute. “You don’t have to do that, Bennie.”
“I know, but I want to,” Bennie said, meaning it. There was no reason to delay Judy’s becoming a partner any longer, and Bennie knew it had been uncomfortable for Mary to become partner when her best friend had remained an associate.
“So what would that mean, financially?”
“It would mean that we split the profits. We’re fifty-fifty partners in the billings. Your name goes on the plaque and letterhead instead of Mary’s.”
“I don’t want that,” Judy said quickly. “I don’t need to be a named partner.”
“Why not?” Bennie asked, sensing she had said the wrong thing.
“I don’t want to replace Mary, nobody could replace Mary. I don’t want the credit anyway, and that’s really for people who want their name out there and want to get business. I don’t want my name out there. I’m happy just to keep it going the way it has been, with me in the background and you getting the business.”
“All right, that would be your choice. Whatever you want.” Bennie understood, knowing Judy. Every lawyer in Creation wanted to be a named partner, but not Judy Carrier. She hated attention, even though she dyed her hair blue. It didn’t make sense, but Bennie loved her for her quirks. She couldn’t lose Judy, too.
“So I’ll think about that,” Judy said, brightening.
“Please do, and take your time. I want what’s best for all of us, I really mean that.”
“I know you do. Thanks a lot, and have a great weekend.”
“You too,” Bennie said, hanging up. She tried to rally, inhaling. “I hope that works. I’d hate to lose her. What if Anne and John went, too? I’d lose my whole law firm.”
“Don’t worry about it until you have to.”
“I have to now.”
“No, you don’t. It’s Friday. Come down here.” Declan patted the bed, and Bennie tried to put it out of her mind, shifting down.
“Thanks for the assist on the phone.”
“See? I’d make a great partner.” Declan smiled.
“I know that.” Bennie hoped he wasn’t hurt, but he tended to roll with the punches, like her. Usually.
“Anyway it’s a standing offer. You change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you, really,” Bennie said, kissing him on the cheek. She snuggled beside him and put her arm across his chest, which was broad and strong, with lean muscles earned from riding horses and pitching hay. She secretly liked his farmer’s tan, typical of his lack of vanity, and he had the perfect amount of chest hair, dark and shot through with silvery strands. Just holding him calmed her down.
“Damn. The game’s on rain delay.”
“Aw, too bad. It’s raining in Philly?”
“Yes, a big thunderstorm.”
“It was fine when I left.” Bennie glanced at the television, where the news was coming on, broadcast from Philadelphia. The lead story was weather, and she rested her head on his chest and watched the TV without really seeing it, replaying Judy’s conversation in her mind. Suddenly a photo on the TV drew her attention, and she did a double-take.
“Declan, turn the sound on,” Bennie said, getting up onto her elbow.
On the screen behind the anchorperson was a smiling photo of Todd Eddington from OpenSpace. A lurid red banner read LOCAL MAN FOUND STABBED TO DEATH.
Bennie reached for her phone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Mary’s cell phone started ringing on her desk, and she felt a tingle of nervousness when she checked the screen and saw it was Bennie calling. Bennie’s profile picture was a candid of her laughing, taken in happier days, and Mary felt a guilty wrench at the sight. She had been working all afternoon, drafting an answer to the defamation complaint and doing the research to see if she should move the case to federal court. The fact that she was leaving the firm, and the effect on Bennie and Judy, had been in the back of her mind the entire time.
She picked up the phone call. “Hi, Bennie, how—”
“Did you see the news? Are you near a TV or a laptop?”
“I’m at the office.” Mary felt startled at the alarm in Bennie’s voice. “What news?”
“Todd Eddington was murdered. I just saw it on TV.”
“Oh my God.” Mary got onto Google, typed in Todd’s name, and a news story came up, a single paragraph: