The Wedding Party by Robyn Carr Page A

her, leaning a hip casually against Pam’s desk. She was wearing a rare look—desperation. “Got any ideas?” she asked Pam.
    Charlene shook her head. “You?” she asked.
    Pam shook her head as well. “I wouldn’t want to be her.”
    â€œHow about them? The kids? I don’t even know where they’d be better off.”
    â€œThat’s a good place to start. We should find out if the ex-husband’s got anything to offer,” Pam said.
    â€œIf he does, it shouldn’t be hard to get support in exchange for shared custody. After all, he’s been delinquent for eleven years.”
    â€œJake could get us—”
    Charlene was shaking her head. She employed the services of a number of investigators and each had certain specialties. Maxie Preston was not above using her sex appeal to put a gentleman suspected of the occasional indiscretion at a disadvantage. In lay terms, she wasn’t above setting traps. And she was a tiny blonde, something she had in common with Meredith. She did not, however, look like a mere child.
    â€œI don’t want to use Jake on this,” Charlene said. “I think I’d rather use Maxie.”
    â€œMaxie?” Pam asked. “She’s pretty high dollar for a pro bono. Why not let Jake help with this?”
    â€œBecause Jake’s not objective, and if there’s one thing we really can’t afford on this case it’s getting a loose cannon like Jake involved.”
    â€œBut Maxie…? You know I have this problem with the way she works,” Pam complained. She’d never been comfortable with that whole scenario.
    â€œShe doesn’t have the same constraints as we do, but she gets the job done.”
    Pam made a face.
    â€œTell you what—you set her up on this investigation. You call her, meet with her, tell her what you want. Agree?”
    â€œAgree.” Pam sighed. “That Meredith. Jake sure can pick ’em.”
    â€œHaven’t we always said so.”
    Â 
    Pam left a message with Maxie’s voice mail, and the call was returned an hour later. By the background noise, Pam assumed Maxie was in her car. “Myschedule is really tight, but if this is something urgent, I’ll make room.”
    â€œYou decide,” Pam replied. “We have a client, a very tiny twenty-six-year-old divorcée with an eleven-year-old daughter. The ex was forced to marry her as a minor, when she may have loosely resembled an eleven-year-old child. He abandoned her and the child almost immediately, never paid support and has returned to her life to sue for custody. It’s our concern that—”
    Maxie cut her off. “You don’t have to explain. I did the math.”
    â€œThere’s also a chance he’s a good guy who wants to do the right thing. He’s forty-one, married, has a child from the second marriage…. The only hiccup in that theory is that, according to our client, he slugged her.”
    â€œYeah,” Maxie said. “I’ll bet he’s a peach.”
    â€œYou know what Charlene wants? Pay records, work history, et cetera.”
    â€œEt cetera meaning kinky habits. Fine. I’ll need the usual retainer, a workable timetable—say, at least a week, preferably three—and I’ll have to interview the woman. I can go see her at work. Tell her I’m coming.”
    â€œThe usual retainer?” Pam asked.
    â€œFour hundred. Cashier’s check. I’m going to be working not far from your office tonight. I should be wrapping up at around eight. That too late for you?”
    â€œNo, I’ll be here,” Pam said, fully expecting Maxie to offer to stop by and pick up her check.
    â€œGood. Swing by Romeo’s. I’ll meet you in the ladies’ room.”
    â€œThe ladies’ room?”
    â€œI’m working the bar. Nice gentleman whose wife keeps finding lipstick on his collar. But hey, a girl’s