Nickel City Crossfire Gary Ross (e book reader pc .txt) 📖

was radio-deep and smooth—James Earl Jones lite. His dark face looked kind, the eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses pale brown and flecked with gold. “This is my sister, Glendora.”

I hadn’t realized the attractive woman standing to the judge’s left was a third wheel. Clad in a rust-colored dress and matching headwrap, she was a shade or two lighter than her younger brother and an inch or two shorter. She looked vaguely familiar. When she smiled and said she was delighted to meet me, the last tumbler fell into place: the judge had a sister who’d lost a September primary bid to represent the Ellicott District in the Common Council. A widowed elementary school principal who’d taken early retirement, Glendora Chancellor-Pratt had run on a platform that included limiting the gentrification of her district. Mona and Winslow Simpkins—and Keisha—would have been her constituents.

“Phee’s told me a lot about you,” Hal said.

“Then let me plead the Fifth before we go any further.”

“Oh, everything she said was good,” he said. “Right, Glennie.”

Eyes never leaving mine, Glendora nodded.

“But the next character witness may be less generous, so I need insurance.”

Hal and Glendora both laughed as Ophelia said, “G, you must be here with your lawyer friend. I’ve heard so much about Miss Trinidad. During the campaign, I spoke with her law partner a few times, and leaders from the Latino community, but I’ve never made her acquaintance. She wasn’t there when I came to your hospital room.”

“Our table’s in that direction,” I said, gesturing with the wine glass. “When I find her, that’s where we’ll head. Come on over when you get a chance.”

Leaving as Ophelia, Hal, and Glendora ordered drinks, I started toward where I’d last seen Phoenix. Of course, she had moved on by then to another conversation in another location. I found her about fifteen feet from where Landsburgh, Falk, and Trinidad were to sit. She thanked me for the wine and introduced me to a stocky blond man in an ill-fitting tux—Rudy something. I shook Rudy’s hand and told Phoenix Eileen and Jonah were waving me over so I would see her when she joined us.

Eileen set down her beer and greeted me with a cherry-lipstick smile when I reached the table. A paralegal who doubled as her Uncle Jonah’s office manager, she was in her mid-twenties and had thick shoulder-length red hair. Her forest green dress underscored both her emerald eyes and her pallor. She blushed when I bent to kiss her cheek, likely embarrassed that she had told Phoenix more than once she thought I was cute, for an older guy. Before straightening, I noticed that the black quad cane she used because of a spinal disorder had been replaced by a bright green model that sparkled with glitter.

“My party stick,” she said. “Good for dancing, if Phoenix doesn’t mind.”

“She’ll tell you to hit me with it if I step on your foot, but I’m in.”

Seated on Eileen’s left, brandy glass in hand, was Jonah Landsburgh, the founder and senior partner. A rawboned man with a head full of unkempt white hair, he had tired eyes and a face creased by seven decades of experience. On her other side sat Brian Saxby, owner of a storefront gallery on Allen and life partner to the attorney beside him, Cameron Falk. A few years younger than Phoenix, both men had dark hair, average builds, and wore well-tailored suits. Cam’s was a midnight blue three-piece. Brian’s burnt sienna two-piece was highlighted by a blue, brown, and gold Jerry Garcia tie that was clearly the best neckpiece at the table. Beside Cam and in more basic clothing were his parents—or so I assumed because I had not yet been introduced to them. Phoenix had told me George Falk served at the Berlin Wall and Toshiko was born a few years after her parents were released from the Japanese-American relocation camp near Granada, Colorado. Jonah had offered them the seats left vacant after Bobby, one of his long-time poker buddies and closest friends, had decided to take Kayla to Manhattan for the weekend.

Jonah and Cam both stood, the former to greet me, the latter to make introductions. After shaking hands all around, I set down my drink and sat beside Cam’s mother, catching a whiff of apple-scented perfume. Toshiko was thin, a bit round-shouldered, and nursing a cosmopolitan. George was thickset and balding, with a bottle of beer beside his water glass. They were pleasant enough but quiet, directing most of their attention to their son, obviously proud he was a named partner in a feisty law firm. My first real conversation, then, was with Jonah, across the empty chair waiting for Phoenix.

“Heard from Bobby?” He took a sip of brandy. “He and Kayla having a good time?”

“Haven’t heard a word, so they must be.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes. “He say anything about Kayla retiring from the bench?”

“Not to me.” I thought about his question. “Why? Looking for a new law partner?”

“Wouldn’t hurt, especially if the New Year brings us the case we’re chasing.”

“I hear it’ll need a lot of investigative hours.” It was no surprise Jonah was hinting at what Phoenix had mentioned at dinner the other night. Since returning to work, I had taken two depositions, completed two background investigations, and served four subpoenas for the law firm. They’d had no dedicated investigator for more than a year, and for a major class-action suit they would need at least one. He would have expected her to tell me about it and now was probing my level of interest.

“We’re still evaluating, but it has the potential to be our biggest case ever.”

“Then count me in. Beats getting shot.”

Jonah laughed, but I sensed Toshiko stiffen beside me, which meant Cam likely had told his parents everything about their new investigator. I turned to her and smiled as she took a hefty swallow of her Cosmo. Surprised, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin as I asked a few questions about Cam’s childhood. Eventually, I