“Why did you get a yellow Corvette like mine?”
Libby glanced at me in surprise. “You’re not angry, are you? Honestly, Abby, it was because I absolutely fell in love with yours, and I knew no amount of money would make you give your car up, so Mummy found another one for me through a dealer in Chicago. She couldn’t locate any 1960 models, but”—Libby’s chin quivered—“she tried.”
I glared at her. She brazenly admitted to coveting my car, then had the audacity to seem surprised that I was upset. I had to sit on my hands so I didn’t wrap them around her throat.
“Are you done, Abby?” Dave asked.
I was too furious to speak, so I pressed my lips together and gave him a quick nod.
“Then I have one more question for you, Libby.” Dave sat forward, his gaze focused on Libby’s face to catch the tiniest nuance of expression. “I need to know if you’ve ever been convicted of a crime, either a felony or a misdemeanor, in this state or any other state, or had any other legal problems.”
There was a momentary hesitation before she answered. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
Another hesitation. “Positive.”
A big red flag went up in my mind. Hesitations usually meant uncertainty. Why had Libby hesitated? Was there something in her past that she didn’t want us to know about? I underlined the note I made on it.
Dave glanced at his own notes. “Then what we haven’t covered is the financial side. You haven’t been charged, but just in case you are, I’d like to do a preliminary investigation to make sure our bases are covered. That means I’ll need a substantial retainer.”
“Mummy opened an account for me at the New Chapel Savings Bank, so all you need to do is contact Rita and she’ll issue you a check.”
Dave wrote it down, then capped his pen and sat back. “Okay, Libby, you can go home or go back to work—just stay close to town. If the prosecutor does decide to charge you, he’ll contact me first and I’ll call you immediately. Do you have any questions or comments?”
She thought a moment, then shook her head.
“Then that does it for the time being,” Dave said as we all stood up. “The minute I have any news I’ll contact you.”
“Thank you, Dave,” Libby said, shaking his hand. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”
She walked to the door, then paused to look back. “I do have one question. You mentioned a preliminary investigation. Does that mean you’ll be hiring an investigator?”
“That’s my usual practice,” Dave said.
Libby smiled at me, and I thought, Oh no. She’s going to ask me to do it.
She looked at Dave and said with a straight face, “Then I want Marco Salvare.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Marco’s a good PI, Abby,” Dave assured me after Libby had left the office. “I would have hired him anyway.”
“But can’t you see she’s still at it? She knew that would make me angry.”
“Dave,” Martha said, poking her head in the doorway, “you have court in ten minutes.”
He gave Martha a nod, then began to pack up his briefcase. “While I’m at the courthouse, I’ll check on that lawsuit filed against Delphi Blume.”
“Good, because Libby didn’t have the whole story. I was told there was a judgment against Delphi, so she filed bankruptcy to keep from paying up, which meant that her client”—I glanced over my notes to find the girl’s name—“Kayla never collected a dime.”
“Good to know. I’ll get the particulars today.” He stood up, ready to leave.
“I have a question for you. While I was in the lockup, I found out that there are at least a dozen women who’ve been waiting a long time for a hearing. They don’t have bail money and can’t afford a lawyer, so they’re stuck. Why is that happening? Why aren’t there more hearings?”
“Sad to say, Abby, it’s all about money. There just aren’t enough dollars available to hire enough judges, prosecutors, and public defenders to monitor all these cases.
Libby glanced at me in surprise. “You’re not angry, are you? Honestly, Abby, it was because I absolutely fell in love with yours, and I knew no amount of money would make you give your car up, so Mummy found another one for me through a dealer in Chicago. She couldn’t locate any 1960 models, but”—Libby’s chin quivered—“she tried.”
I glared at her. She brazenly admitted to coveting my car, then had the audacity to seem surprised that I was upset. I had to sit on my hands so I didn’t wrap them around her throat.
“Are you done, Abby?” Dave asked.
I was too furious to speak, so I pressed my lips together and gave him a quick nod.
“Then I have one more question for you, Libby.” Dave sat forward, his gaze focused on Libby’s face to catch the tiniest nuance of expression. “I need to know if you’ve ever been convicted of a crime, either a felony or a misdemeanor, in this state or any other state, or had any other legal problems.”
There was a momentary hesitation before she answered. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
Another hesitation. “Positive.”
A big red flag went up in my mind. Hesitations usually meant uncertainty. Why had Libby hesitated? Was there something in her past that she didn’t want us to know about? I underlined the note I made on it.
Dave glanced at his own notes. “Then what we haven’t covered is the financial side. You haven’t been charged, but just in case you are, I’d like to do a preliminary investigation to make sure our bases are covered. That means I’ll need a substantial retainer.”
“Mummy opened an account for me at the New Chapel Savings Bank, so all you need to do is contact Rita and she’ll issue you a check.”
Dave wrote it down, then capped his pen and sat back. “Okay, Libby, you can go home or go back to work—just stay close to town. If the prosecutor does decide to charge you, he’ll contact me first and I’ll call you immediately. Do you have any questions or comments?”
She thought a moment, then shook her head.
“Then that does it for the time being,” Dave said as we all stood up. “The minute I have any news I’ll contact you.”
“Thank you, Dave,” Libby said, shaking his hand. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”
She walked to the door, then paused to look back. “I do have one question. You mentioned a preliminary investigation. Does that mean you’ll be hiring an investigator?”
“That’s my usual practice,” Dave said.
Libby smiled at me, and I thought, Oh no. She’s going to ask me to do it.
She looked at Dave and said with a straight face, “Then I want Marco Salvare.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Marco’s a good PI, Abby,” Dave assured me after Libby had left the office. “I would have hired him anyway.”
“But can’t you see she’s still at it? She knew that would make me angry.”
“Dave,” Martha said, poking her head in the doorway, “you have court in ten minutes.”
He gave Martha a nod, then began to pack up his briefcase. “While I’m at the courthouse, I’ll check on that lawsuit filed against Delphi Blume.”
“Good, because Libby didn’t have the whole story. I was told there was a judgment against Delphi, so she filed bankruptcy to keep from paying up, which meant that her client”—I glanced over my notes to find the girl’s name—“Kayla never collected a dime.”
“Good to know. I’ll get the particulars today.” He stood up, ready to leave.
“I have a question for you. While I was in the lockup, I found out that there are at least a dozen women who’ve been waiting a long time for a hearing. They don’t have bail money and can’t afford a lawyer, so they’re stuck. Why is that happening? Why aren’t there more hearings?”
“Sad to say, Abby, it’s all about money. There just aren’t enough dollars available to hire enough judges, prosecutors, and public defenders to monitor all these cases.
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