Chapter 1.12
Zaxil stood in front of Evelyn’s desk. He nodded a hello to Detective Angela Reese.
The detective smiled politely and turned to work with Gretchen, who was going through some of Thomas’s files.
“This is no good, Evey. All fruit is not ripe.” Zaxil shifted his weight back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m not offering you any rent money back. I can’t. I just—”
“I don’t expect you to.” Evelyn knew about Pete on the roof and about the wealthy condo developer trying to grab this building. Thomas had filled her in on the case and she was going to help him with it after their work with Holder was done. “Maybe you can find another tenant, Zaxil, and—”
“Doubt that. Doubt I can fast enough anyway. And I’ve promised Pete that he gets approval on any tenant. You gotta be able to do something, Evey. You know law. Tom said you know as much about law as any lawyer with the paper hanging on the wall.”
“Look, I know Thomas was digging into bankruptcy protection and looking at historic preservation.”
“So you’ll keep digging, too, right? You’ll find me a way to save this place.” He’d not asked the last as a question.
“Yeah, Zaxil, I’ll dig. I don’t have to be a lawyer to dig.”
“All right then. All right. All right. Just figure it out before March.” He spun and headed out, holding at the door. “And take care of yourself, all right? Watch yourself. Pete tells me that rusted Buick cruised by here early this morning. Same one that’d been cruising by the night before, you know, when Tom was killed. Pete’s real upset he wasn’t paying attention to the people on the street that night; he might’ve seen the murderer. Pete’s a birdwatcher, said he was watching some Clapper Rails on the roof across the street. A big deal, he said, to see them this far in. Said they’re a marsh bird.” Zaxil scratched at his head. “Never asked him how he knows that. Anyway, said they flew when the sirens started. Pete’s real sorry he didn’t see the guy that gacked Thomas.” He left, the bell on the door jangling.
She shivered. All of this was so desperately unfair … herself without a job, Zaxil in danger of losing this building, Pete in danger of losing his life. She raged at Thomas for being murdered and at whoever caused it. So young, she had so much to look forward to, so much finally going right for her. She didn’t need this complication, and didn’t deserve it.
She’d survive it, though. Evelyn always survived whatever this world chose to dump on her. She’d tell Dagger about the Buick coming by again.
“That’s it for this stack,” Gretchen said. “Damn cold in here. We should crank the heat.”
Evelyn knew Thomas hovered nearby … well, Thomas or Val or both, as there was the telltale chill in the air. But neither showed themselves, even though Evelyn wanted Thomas to talk to Detective Reese. Evelyn returned to sorting through files with Gretchen.
“Me and Gretchen are part-time,” Evelyn explained to the detective.
“She’s telling you that crap piles up.” Gretchen was blunt about it. She’d cancelled her wine country bus trip to help. “These files…” She pointed to a stack on a tilting file cabinet. “I was gonna get to them next week.”
Evelyn knew that lawyers were notorious for having sloppy files. Big, huge piles, stuff sitting around to be dealt with. It used to take Thomas forever to go through the paperwork.
“Whoever did this last night, they left the … piles of … crap …” Evelyn settled on, “pretty much alone. And it really doesn’t look like anything is missing out of the file cabinets, just tossed around. Maybe like they were searching for something but couldn’t find it.” She was thankful the blood was at the back of the room, around the conference table. If Thomas had been killed near the files, she wouldn’t be sorting through paper.
Gretchen gave an evil grin. “Couldn’t find it ’cause they didn’t understand my filing system.”
Or lack thereof, Evelyn thought. “Or maybe they just wanted to make a mess.”
“I vote on the mess angle. It has that feel to it.” Detective Reese appeared thoughtful. “So just the backup hard drive is missing, a few jump drives, and the memory board out of the computer. All the digital files.”
“And about that Buick Zaxil mentioned,” Evelyn said.
“We’re looking for it,” the detective returned.
Evelyn had walked Detective Reese around the issue of clients and the records, and the police correctly hadn’t tried to appropriate any of the files. Attorney-client privilege extended beyond the death of the attorney. It took a court order to get past that. Still, Evelyn conceded a little in an effort to help find the man who’d brought the dark fey into the office; she told the detective the titles of Thomas’s active cases. The detective could look up whatever was public about them in court records and follow leads that way.
Evelyn took a few minutes to call Vaughan’s office. She told his clerk Holder’s case was being passed onto to a designated attorney and requested the matter be moved back a week.
“Gotta do something about that blood back by the conference table, Evey,” Gretchen said. “It smells awful. Like a morgue in here.”
“I have someone coming in about seven.” Evelyn had set up the appointment with a company that specialized in crime scene cleanup, and seven was the quickest they said they could get here. It should take two hours max for a single slaying, the proprietor had told her.
“I liked this job,” Gretchen grumbled. “I really did.” She put her bony hands on her hips and stared at Evelyn. “Can’t you keep this place open? Got half a dozen active cases here. You should finish them. Thomas could finish them.”
“Undead can have jobs, Gretchen, but ghosts are not recognized legally because they have no physical presence. And as for me—” Evelyn had explained this to Gretchen an hour ago. “I don’t have my license to practice law.”
“You and me,” Gretchen continued, “we know more about the law than Thomas did … does. You know that, and he knew … knows … that.”
“Doesn’t work that way.” Evelyn was going to miss the office too. Maybe a part of her had thought she’d be able to stay here after her degree and license, that Thomas and she could find enough business to keep two full-time attorneys busy. “Crystal Gaye is coming over tonight to get the files.”
“Who?”
“Crystal Gaye. She’s an attorney friend of Thomas’s. They went to Stanford together. Thomas has her listed as the attorney designated to pick up his caseload.” Evelyn had found that paperwork first thing. Attorneys were supposed to designate with the state supreme court which of their fellows their cases passed to if they died or became unable to continue their practice. It would be up to the clients if they wanted to stay with said new attorney—Crystal Gaye, in Thomas’s case.
“I know how it all works,” Gretchen grumbled. “But it shouldn’t work that way. Me and you, we could handle those cases. I liked this job. I really did.”
O O O
“Crystal’s good,” Thomas told Evelyn after Gretchen and Detective Reese left. He looked like the fog that on some mornings climbed the pilings of the Golden Gate Bridge. “She’s with a three-man firm downtown, and they can spread the cases out so it won’t overload them. Specialize in malpractice, wrongful death, and the like.”
“You’re a victim of wrongful death.”
They’d stood there for several moments, or rather Evelyn stood while Thomas floated, listening to the sounds of traffic, and to music that spilled out the open doors of the bars across the street—one blues, the other rock, a miasma of racket in disagreeing keys.
“I don’t want to give up the cases, you know,” Thomas finally said.
“I put a lot of hours on the Holder case. I think there are some things I could file to keep me on the Holder case. But it would be a lot of work—that and school, and I’m so close to finishing. I don’t want to jeopardize anything with the bar coming up.”
“Crystal’s good. Don’t worry. She can handle Holder.”
Evelyn decided to change the subject. “Your sister is coming over tomorrow. She called, said she’s planning your funeral for Tuesday.” She still couldn’t recall the woman’s name. “Are you … uhm … going to show yourself?”
“I suppose I’ll have to. Otherwise I can’t tell her I want you to have all my books. No rights, I can’t hold onto property.” He laughed. It was a haunting, sad sound. “Hell, I can’t hold onto anything. It passes right through my hands.”
“Thomas—”
“Seriously, though. I want you to have all my books. I know you like books. And you shouldn’t move. Not until March anyway. The rent for the whole building is paid until the first of March. Try to help Zaxil find another tenant.”
If—when—she moved, she’d probably never see Thomas again. If he was anything like Val, he was anchored to this place. Another business would move in … if Zaxil was lucky. If the condo developer came in and tore this place down, would Thomas and Val die again?
“I have to go. I have some errands to run. Then I’m meeting Dagger for an early dinner, see if he found anything. Then I’m coming back to let … I’m coming back to tend to some things.” She didn’t want to tell Thomas that the cleaner was going to wipe up his blood and make the place smell new. He’d probably watch it happen and could deal with it then.
Evelyn hurried out, locking the door behind her. In the low sixties on the street, it was quite a bit warmer than it had been in the office when Thomas was around.