Gray Mountain: A Novel(79)

“Yes, we’ve talked several times since the funeral. She’s okay with it. She and I have a good relationship. She and Jeff—that’s another story.”

“Any idea of the size of the estate?”

“Not really. Jeff has the hard drives and is putting together a list of open cases, some of which are years away from disposition. Hammer Valley was just filed and I assume the other plaintiffs’ lawyers will pick up the ball and run with it. The Ryzer case appears to be dead now. There’s a verbal agreement with Strayhorn Coal to settle the Tate case for $1.7 million.”

Annette said, “I suspect there’s some money in the bank.”

“I’m sure of it. Plus, he had dozens of smaller cases. Not sure where they’ll go. We might be able to handle a few of them, but not many. I often suggested to Donovan that he find a partner or at least a good associate, but he loved having the place to himself. He rarely took my advice.”

“He adored you, Mattie, you know that,” Annette said. There was a moment of silence for the dead. The waitress topped off their cups, and as she walked away Samantha realized it was the same gal who’d served her the first time she had entered the Brady Grill. Donovan had just rescued her from Romey and jail. Mattie was waiting at the clinic for an interview. It was hardly two months ago, yet it seemed like years. Now he was dead and they were talking about his estate.

Mattie swallowed hard and said, “We need to meet with Jeff late this afternoon and talk about some issues. Just the three of us, away from our offices.”

“Why am I included?” Samantha asked. “I’m just an intern, just passing through, as you like to say.”

“Good point,” Annette said.

“Jeff wants you there,” Mattie said.





26


Jeff rented a room at the Starlight Motel, twenty bucks an hour, and tried to convince the manager that nothing immoral was in the works. The manager feigned surprise and ignorance, even seemed a bit insulted that anyone would suggest bad behavior at a hot-sheets joint like his. Jeff explained that he was meeting three women, all lawyers, one of whom was his sixty-year-old aunt, and that they just needed a quiet place to discuss some sensitive issues. Whatever, said the manager. Would you like a receipt? No.

On another day, Mattie might have been nervous about her car being seen at the motel, but a week after Donovan’s death she could not have cared less. She was too numb to worry about such trivial matters. It was a small town—let ’em talk. Her mind was focused on far more important matters. Annette rode in the front seat, Samantha the rear, and as they parked next to Jeff’s truck she realized he was standing in the door of the room once occupied by Pamela Booker. Next door had been Trevor and Mandy. For four nights, long ago it seemed, they had taken shelter at the motel after living in their car for a month. With Samantha’s fearless lawyering and the clinic’s generosity, the Booker family had been rescued from the wilds and was now living peacefully in a rented trailer a few miles outside of Colton. Pamela was working at the lamp factory. The lawsuit against Top Market Solutions—Samantha’s first—was still unresolved, but the family was safe and happy.

“He’s probably been here before,” Annette said as they looked at Jeff.

“Enough of that,” Mattie said. The three lawyers got out of the car and walked into the tiny room.

“You’re serious about this spying stuff, right?” Annette asked, obviously not serious about it.

Jeff leaned against the pillows on the rickety bed and waved at three cheap chairs. “Welcome to the Starlight.”

“I’ve been here before,” Samantha said.

“Who was the lucky guy?”

“None of your business.” The three lawyers settled into the chairs. There were files and notepads on the bed.

Jeff said, “Yes, I’m dead serious about this spying stuff. Donovan’s office was bugged. So was his house. He suspected they, whoever they are, were watching and listening, and it’s best if we don’t take chances.”

“What did the FBI take from the house?” Mattie asked.

“They were there for two hours and found nothing. They took the computers, but by now they know the hard drives were replaced. All they’ll find is a bunch of obscene greetings to anyone who might be snooping. So, they’ll be back, I suppose. Doesn’t matter. They’ll never find anything.”

“You know you’re skirting around the edges of the law,” Annette said.

Jeff smiled and shrugged. “Big deal. You think Krull Mining is sitting around right now worrying about who’s playing by the rules? No, they are not. Right now they’re on the phone with the U.S. Attorney desperate to find out what the Fibbies scooped up in their raids today.”

“It’s a criminal investigation, Jeff,” Annette said with an edge. “One that is aimed at Donovan and those working with him, primarily you, if you in fact have possession of ill-gotten documents, or access to them. These guys are not going to disappear just because you outfoxed them with the hard drives.”

“I don’t have the documents,” he said, a throwaway that no one in the room believed.

Mattie waved her hand and said, “All right, all right, enough of this. We’re going to court Wednesday to probate his estate and I thought we were going to talk about that.”