Nobody out there would’ve said
“Fiorella’s the crazy one.” Mary rubbed her eyes irritably. She’d never even disagreed with Judy, much less argued with her.
“Listen, I hear you. I didn’t think anything of it, either, at first.” Judy shrugged. “I mean, I know that Fiorella isn’t a witch queen, even if she cured me.”
“Good, we agree on something.”
“But she is intuitive.”
“She’s a woman. It comes with the ovaries.”
Judy didn’t laugh. “So it got me thinking. What if?”
“ ‘What if’ is meaningless. You’re smarter than what if.”
Judy frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means this is speculation, not fact. You’re usually the logical one, not me.”
“Hear me out, one last time.”
“Fine, shoot.” Mary glanced at the phone messages scattered in a sliding pile on her desk. All of them were from her clients, individuals with small matters, and on these child-size blocks, she had built a client base that had made her a partner. None of the messages was from Anthony, nor had he called on her cell.
“Let’s say something happened over the weekend, something we don’t know. Bennie, or Alice, or whoever was out there, said that Alice tried to kill her. I heard that, you heard that.”
“Yes, I heard it. It’s part of her scam. It’s a lie.”
“No, assume for these purposes, that’s not a lie. Assume it’s the truth.”
“Okay.” Mary’s gaze fell on her stack of correspondence, all the tri-folded letters neatly opened and paper- clipped to their envelopes, a three-inch stack of tasks that needed her attention. She could work all day and night and never do them all.
“So what if Alice tried to kill Bennie over the weekend, but she didn’t succeed and then she came back to take her place?”
“Who came back to take whose place?”
“Alice. Alice came back to take Bennie’s place.”
“First question.” Mary didn’t have time for this. Rexco would be here in fifteen minutes. The phones at reception were ringing nonstop. “Bennie has all her stuff. Messenger bag, phone, clothes, keys.”
“Alice could’ve taken it from her, and did you notice she doesn’t seem all that sad about Bear?”
“Bennie’s not the type to blubber all over at the office. It would be unprofessional.” Mary couldn’t take the conversation seriously when there was so much real work to be done, and she felt the weight of her new responsibilities. “Look, of course she’s Bennie. She looks like Bennie, she walks like Bennie, she talks like Bennie.”
“Sometimes your own mother can’t tell the difference between you and Angie.”
“Grady would know the difference. Do we need to go there?”
“He hasn’t seen her in a while, so it wouldn’t be that hard to trick him.” Judy’s eyes narrowed. “What if Alice is taking Bennie’s place, right here, before our eyes?”
“Second question. Why would Alice do that? Why would she want to be a lawyer? Nobody wants to be a lawyer. Lawyers don’t even want to be lawyers!”
“I don’t know, but neither do I know why Alice would be outside, trying to ruin Bennie’s business. I don’t know anybody who would risk arrest just to destroy somebody else.”
“I do. Alice. She’s self-destructive.”
“Not really. Alice is all about self preservation. She fought tooth and nail not to be convicted of murder. Besides, she and Bennie had reconciled. So why would she give Bennie a hard time now? Did you ever think about that?” Judy leaned farther over the desk. “You know what I saw on her face, out there? Desperation. Didn’t you see it, too?”
“Yes, I did. Alice is desperate to ruin Bennie.” Mary started when the intercom buzzed on her phone, a signal that Rexco had arrived. She grabbed a fresh legal pad. “I have to go.”
“How about if we think of a test?”
“What you mean?” Mary searched on her desk for a pen without teethmarks. Partners didn’t chew their pens. She could tell Rexco that she had a puppy.
“There’s years of things that Bennie knows about and Alice wouldn’t. We all have a history, a shared history, and it excludes Alice.”
“So what?” Mary went to the door, her chest tightening with impatience.
“So let’s think of something that would test her. A case we had, a client we loved or hated, or a point of law. There are so many possibilities.” Judy’s eyes lit up, but Mary couldn’t join her enthusiasm, which suddenly seemed childish.
“It’s not a game.”
“I know that. I didn’t mean it that way.” Judy’s forehead creased. “Look, it’s a good idea. We should think of some reference that only Bennie would know, then we wait for the chance to spring it on her and see if she knows what we’re talking about. If she does, it’s Bennie. If she doesn’t, it’s Alice.”
“I don’t have time to do that, and I don’t want to.” Mary put her hand on the doorknob. “Hasn’t Bennie been through enough? Her sister is terrorizing her and her dog is dead. Cut her a break.”
Judy looked mystified. “Why are you acting so weird?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Judy, really!” Mary threw up her hands. “There are real clients out there that we have to sign and real dollars we have to bring in. All of us.”
“Whoa. You’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid.” Judy edged back, frowning, and Mary felt stung.
“That’s not fair.”
“Did you ever think that if she’s Alice, she’s co-opted you? All those compliments she’s dropping, like ‘great idea’ this and ‘great idea’ that? She doesn’t really mean it.”
“Thanks.” Mary started to go, but Judy touched her arm, her face reddening.
“I’m sorry. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it, I’m saying she could be manipulating you, if she’s Alice.”
“No, she’s not. She’s Bennie.”
“You said so yourself, on the phone, how strange it was that she complimented you. Then she made you a partner, and overnight, you got so far on her side, you won’t even consider there’s another side.”
“On this, there’s only one side,” Mary shot back, and Judy recoiled, confused.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Mary answered, and through the open door she could hear Bennie greeting the Rexco people in the lobby. “I really have to go.”
“Okay, whatever. Go.”
Mary walked out, feeling a wrench in her chest. Wondering if she were leaving her best friend, as well as her boyfriend, behind.
Chapter Seventy-one
Bennie followed Tiffany into a basement apartment that reeked of stale cigarette smoke. The living room, stifling and windowless, contained a worn brown couch, a plaid fabric chair, and an old TV. A wrinkled Bon Jovi poster hung over a cafe table that held a black laptop, magazines, and gum wrappers. Empty glasses and full ashtrays dotted cheap end tables.
“Sorry it’s so hot.” Tiffany climbed up on the couch and turned on an air conditioner installed into the wall, then jumped down, with a grin. “Better, huh?”
“Yes, good.”
“It’ll be cold fast, you’ll see. I got Bud Light, okay?”
