The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(44)

“Relax, Smokey the bear,” James said, his voice much harder than it had been down on the floor. “Just hear the man out.”

Wilma turned back to the chair, but her feet were glued to the ground.

“Wilma, please...” Willistone said, gesturing to the table in front of the chair. “Sit. I’d like to talk to you about some things. Explain, so to speak, why I’m here.”

Though still in shock, Wilma forced her feet to move and she did what he said.

“It’s about Dewey, Wilma. We don’t think we’ve really done enough for you since Dewey’s death. How have you been getting along?”

Wilma tried to gather herself.

“I’m making it, if that’s what you mean. I...” She wanted to ask him about James, what the connection was, but she wasn’t ready yet.

“I imagine times have been tough, though, what with Dewey not around?”

She just nodded her response. Where is this going?

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” He scooted forward in the leather chair so that their knees almost touched. “I want to help you.”

“Why?” Her thoughts had become words. Why?

“Two reasons. One, because you’re the widow of someone who was a very valuable employee, and I don’t think we’ve treated you the way we should’ve.”

That sounded all well and good to Wilma – the shock had worn off now – but it rang hollow. Why the strange rendezvous, if that was it?

“So what’s the second reason?” Her voice was tough, and she hoped it conveyed a simple message. Let’s cut the bullshit.

“Our company has been sued by the estate of the family that was killed in the wreck with Dewey. They say Dewey caused the family’s death because of his bad driving.” He stopped to take a sip of his drink.

Wilma, who had been leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, now sat back and folded her arms. I should’ve known, she thought.

“They also say that we – the company I mean – were negligent in hiring, training and supervising Dewey.” He stopped again, and she knew he was gauging her reaction.

“OK...”

“We wanted to ask you a few questions about the lawsuit.” She looked over her shoulder at James, who continued to stand by the door.

“We?”

“Well, me mainly. Bone, here, was just the instrument I used to set this up.”

“Bone?” She again looked over her shoulder, and this time James winked at her.

“Nickname,” he said..

“We actually call him JimBone. Bone for short. Don’t ask me where that name came from.” Willistone was laughing now, and Wilma was furious.

“He has been paying me for lap dances all night, and he requested a VIP dance in this room,” she said through clenched teeth. “Was all that part of the plan?”

“Actually, yes,” Willistone said, sporting a humorless smile. “I figured if Bone could get you in this room, you would have already made the decision to whore yourself out.” He paused, and Wilma felt her skin turn cold. “What I am about to offer is a much easier way to make a lot more money.”

“I’m out of here,” Wilma said, standing from the table. “You people are crazy.” But before she could do anything but stand up, JimBone caught her by the arm.”

“I don’t think so, little lady. Why don’t you hear what the man has to say? I think you’re gonna be pleased.”

“Let me go or I swear I’ll scream,” Wilma said.

“Scream all you want,” Jack said. “I told Larry this meeting might be rough.”

Again, Wilma was stunned. “Larry... knows about this.”

Jack laughed. “Larry and I go way back. Who do you think was one of his initial investors? No telling how many pickle tickles I’ve gotten in this room. But go on, scream. Let loose with a humdinger if it’ll make you feel better.”

Tears formed in the corner of Wilma’s eyes as she sat back down on the coffee table. Damn, damn.

“Wilma,” Willistone’s voice was quieter. “We know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m sorry we’ve had to use these tactics.” He paused. “Have they contacted you?”

She was still crying. All she could think about was that Jack was right. She had agreed to prostitute herself the minute she entered this room.

“Have they contacted you?” Jack repeated, his voice louder. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was James... JimBone... whoever.

“Come on now. Answer the man’s questions. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

“Have they contacted you?” Willistone asked for the third time.

“They?” Her voice was weak.

“The family. Lawyers for the family. Anybody that would be against us in this lawsuit.”

She knew it was pointless to lie. They probably already know and are testing me.

“Yes,” she said, looking at Willistone.

“Who?”

“The lawyer. Rick I think is his name. He and this girl – I think his assistant – came to see me at the Sands a couple of weeks ago. They asked about Dewey. About the accident.”

“What did you say?”

“He was most interested in the schedule y’all had Dewey on. I... I was mad at y’all. I...”