7. Reed
The minute Reed stepped inside the house, he quickly processed the sights, smells, and sounds. Casing the joint, some would call it, though he wouldn’t since a certain someone liked to remind him that he wasn’t a cop anymore. Investigation was as important to the job as being able to write a flawless brief, however, at least for this kind of case.
A floral print couch that had seen better days, a coffee table, and two mismatched side tables were crammed into the small living room. The light blue recliner in the corner facing the television set seemed to be where Johnson spent most of his time as evidenced by the newspapers, food wrappers, and empty cans that littered the brown shag carpet around it. The tray table next to the chair had a six-pack of cheap beer on it along with a bowl of half-eaten cereal. Reed walked over to the table and ran his finger along one of the cans, clearing a trail where he wiped off the condensation.
“Somebody started early.”
“He is in no shape to consent to a deal today,” Maya whispered as she came to his side.
“No,” he agreed. “But we’re here, so we can at least start to feel him out.”
“You want one?”
They looked up from their spot over his half-drunk six-pack to find Mr. Johnson stumbling back into the living room and straight for his chair.
“We’re good,” Reed said as he held up his hand. “We read the reports and saw the security camera footage from your case. You clocked your boss pretty good.”
“Son of a bitch deserved it.” He popped the top on another cold one and flopped into his recliner.
“Have you ever had any problems like this before?” Maya asked. “With the law?”
“You don’t pussyfoot around at all, do you, darlin’?” He smirked and pointed his beer toward Reed. “Watch yourself with this one.”
Reed glanced at Maya who was already giving their client a disapproving stare, and clearly not needing him to come to her defense which he found impressive, though not at all surprising as he’d been on the receiving end of that glare more than a few times this week.
“Yeah, I’ve been arrested before,” Johnson answered finally. “A D.U.I. a few years back. Nothin’ more than anyone else in this town.”
“How long did you work for Mr. Prescott’s plumbing company?” she followed up.
“Twenty-two years. Only job I ever had.”
“That’s a long time,” Reed pointed out. “Longer than most marriages.”
“No shit,” he said, raising his drink to that accomplishment. “I had three of ‘em during that time.”
“So what happened then?” Reed pressed now that they had him talking.
“People change.” Johnson took another long pull off his beer.
“You or him?”
“Him,” he snapped, the wound obviously still fresh. He took another sip of his beer then set it on the table beside him. Despite the drinking, he actually seemed to be thinking more clearly. “It was a small business. Just me, him, and two other guys on the crew until a few years ago. His son got involved, wanted to expand, and he went along with it. Started tryin’ to get rid of the old guys. Hired a bunch of his son’s friends who didn’t know a snap cutter from a rotary cutter.”
“What reason did he give for firing you?” Maya asked.
“Hostile attitude or some shit. I told one of the young guys to go to hell in front of a client and her kid. I’d had enough of him not knowin’ what he was doin’ and makin’ more work for me.”
“That was it?” Maya arched her brow. She wasn’t buying it and neither was he. “Just that one time after twenty-two years? No warning or anything?”
Reed nodded along with her line of questioning. He liked where she was going with this. Employment law wasn’t his strong suit, but something about this didn’t sit right with him either.
“That was it.” The old man shrugged. “Fired on the spot. Wouldn’t even let me come back to the shop to get my tools, so I went back the next day and you saw what happened.”
“You didn’t get them back, did you?” Reed asked, thinking back to the tape and how Johnson had left almost empty handed.
“Nah.”
“We could probably help you with that,” Maya offered.
“It ain’t worth the trouble at this point.”
“You got something, though,” Reed said.
“What?”
“On the tape,” he reminded him. “It looked like you took something from the desk after you knocked him out.”
“Oh, did it?” And suddenly Johnson seemed to have lost his clear mind.
“What’d you take?” Reed asked directly.
“One of my tools he had layin’ around.”
“You sure?” Reed pressed. “There’s nothin’ else we should know about?”
He tried to keep the heat on Johnson to get the information they needed, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maya paying attention to her cell phone instead of their interview which seemed unlike her.
“No. I ain’t the crook here,” Johnson shot back. “Anyways, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
Reed was about to respond but lost his focus when Maya walked across the room with her phone in hand. Unsure whether to be annoyed or concerned with her behavior, he called out after her. She glanced over her shoulder, an inscrutable look on her face, then looked away too quickly for him to discern what was going on.
“Hendricks?” he called out again.
“Sorry. It’s important. I need to take this,” she said with quiet urgency as she headed out the door.
“You know, I think it’s about time you two get on back to the city,” Johnson suggested snidely, capitalizing on whatever personal drama was happening between them to get them out of his house and off his back.
“Yeah,” Reed scoffed. “We need to set up a time to meet next week so we can make some decisions about your course of action. What’s your best time of day usually?”
“I’m always at my best.”
Reed cocked his head to one side, challenging his client’s assertion given the show he’d put on today.
“Same time on Tuesday then,” Johnson conceded.
“That’ll work. You have a nice weekend, Mr. Johnson.”
Their client mumbled some sort of farewell behind his back as he showed himself out. From the porch, he spotted Maya leaning against the passenger’s side of the truck, still focused on her phone.
“What was that about?” he asked as he neared.
She looked up and shielded her eyes from the sun. “Something weird is going on here. How the hell did we get this case?”
He looked back at the house, shaking his head at the turns their case had taken in the last few minutes. “I was wondering the same thing. I figured it was pro-bono work, but this guy isn’t exactly a charity case. It feels like Al’s holding back on us.”
Maya nodded, apparently having that same feeling that they hadn’t been given the full story about this case. “I think we may have a wrongful termination case on our hands if Johnson didn’t do something to screw it up for himself.”
“At least that,” Reed agreed.
“Also, this was on his kitchen table.” She handed her phone to him. “You think it’s the object from the video?”
He looked at the picture she’d captured on her phone, some sort of metal contraption that looked like a cross between a plier and a stapler if he had to describe it. She had a greater appreciation for the art of investigation than he thought.
“Nice catch, Hendricks.” He handed the phone back and leaned against the truck right next to her then folded his arms across his chest, making himself comfortable as he thought through the new information that kept unfolding. “It’s possible. He got awful shifty when that came up. Makes me wonder if it’s actually his.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“No clue, but I know some people who might. Can you send me that picture?”
“Yeah,” she said, attending to it right away as she texted him the picture.
“How do you want to play this?” he asked, glancing down at her.
She slipped her phone into her bag and mirrored his position as she pondered his question for a moment. “You want to do background checks and some digging on our client and his employer? I’ll review the case law to see if we have enough for a wrongful termination case.”
“I think that sounds good. Should we call Al to give him an update?”
“No,” she said quickly. She pushed herself off of the car and stepped in front of him. “Not a word.”
He tilted his head, questioning the wisdom of two summer associates keeping their findings from their boss, the only actual attorney between the three of them.
“He’s up to something, Stanton. I think he knows exactly what this case is, and he’s purposely holding information back to challenge us. I’m not saying a word until we walk into his office Monday morning and lay it all out for him.”
Here she was again. A gleam in her eyes, excitement in her voice. He liked this side of Maya, and wished she’d stick around which is why he hated himself for what he was about to do.
“Hendricks—”
“What? You know him better than me. You think he wouldn’t do something like this?” she challenged.
He took in a deep breath as he considered the man he’d known for the past few years, the incredibly bright and unconventional man. “No, it sounds exactly like something he would do.”
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
And then she did something that knocked the breath right out of him. She smiled. Not a smirk, or a grimace, or a grin. An honest to God smile. Maya Hendricks was a force: beauty, passion, wit, intelligence. And when it all came together, just as it had in this moment, it was almost like looking right into the sun. He really liked this side of her, and wanted to do whatever he could to keep her around.
He pushed himself off the car and began to walk around front to the driver’s side. “This week really is getting better and better, isn’t it?”
“I think it might be,” she said as she opened the door and hopped in.