Attorney-Client Privilege (9 page)

B
enjamin stood in the far corner of my office, walking in tight circles, muttering under his breath. “This is a good sign,” he said. “This is a very good sign.”

He was reacting to a call I received earlier in the day from Girlie Cortez. To our surprise, she wanted to drop by to discuss early resolution of the Big Buy case.

I, however, was not nearly as excited as Benjamin. Girlie’s offer of an olive branch this early on was reason for suspicion, not celebration.

“Can you please sit down?”

Benjamin flashed me a grin and stilled himself. But only for a nano-second.

He still appeared bruised and beat up. Red marks were visible on his face and neck and I could see a line of stitches on the left side of his head where hair used to be. We’d agreed not to tell Olivia and Ida about the attack until we had more information about exactly what was going on. I just hoped they weren’t next on the assailant’s list.

My iPhone rang. I saw that it was Lamarr, so I ignored it. He’d taken my advice and gone to visit his grandmother in Cleveland, but was still calling me every other day to find out if I had any new information about his case. Nothing I said got through to him.

A minute later the receptionist announced Girlie’s arrival.

“I’m going out to the lobby,” I told Benjamin. “When I come back, make sure you have your game face on.”

“Got it.” Benjamin puffed out his chest and balled up his fists. “This is war.”

When I reached the lobby, Girlie was standing near the window talking on her cell phone. I stood a few feet away, waiting for her to finish her call. Girlie smiled at me and held up her index finger, instructing me to wait. I didn’t have time for her games. I waited two more seconds, then headed back to my office.

Halfway down the hallway, Girlie caught up with me.

“I’m sooooo sorry,” she gushed, stuffing her phone into her purse. “That was an important call I had to take.”

She extended her hand and shook mine way too hard. I never understood what women who shook hands with the force of a man hoped to prove.

Girlie smiled big when I introduced her to Benjamin. “Is it okay if I call you Ben?”

“Sure.” Benjamin smiled back. His game face nowhere to be seen.

Girlie took one of the chairs in front of my desk and maneuvered it until she was partially facing Benjamin.

“The Center does great work. You help so many people in the community.” She was fixing her charms on Benjamin and he was eating it up. “What happened to your face?”

“Don’t you know?” I asked. If Big Buy was responsible for Benjamin’s injuries, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Girlie was somehow in the mix.

“Why would I know?”

I couldn’t gauge whether her puzzled look was sincere or not.

“I fell off my motorcycle,” Benjamin said uneasily.

“Sorry to hear that. You should be more careful next time. So where should we start?”

“You tell us,” I said. “You requested this meeting.”

“True.”

She pulled two sheets of paper from her briefcase. “Big Buy would like to avoid the unnecessary expenditure of legal fees and has authorized me to make a settlement offer.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Her presence in my office had nothing to do with saving legal fees. Big Buy was running scared and it probably had something to do with those missing documents.

“If I had known that you wanted to discuss settlement, I would’ve had my clients here.”

“No need for that. This isn’t really a true settlement discussion since what we’re offering isn’t negotiable. I have authority to give both women three months’ salary, one-thousand dollars in outplacement assistance, and company-paid medical coverage for three months.”

“Three months’ salary?” A crude laugh masked my anger. “You’re joking, right?”

Girlie straightened in her seat. “Big Buy is making this offer in good faith.”

Bull.
“And why would my clients need outplacement assistance and medical coverage? They have jobs.”

“Our offer would require them to resign.”

Benjamin’s face flushed with agitation. He looked so perturbed I thought his yarmulke might shoot off the top of his head. “Resign for what? Complaining about being discriminated against?”

“Obviously, after litigation, it can be very difficult to restore the trust in the employer-employee relationship,” Girlie explained. “This is a great offer. We’d even be willing to convert the outplacement assistance to cash so they can use the money for tuition should they decide to go back to school. As you know, neither plaintiff has a college degree. That’s one of the reasons they haven’t been promoted.”

“More than a few of your highly paid male managers don’t have degrees either,” I pointed out.

“And who’s going to pay their household bills while they’re going to school without a job?” Benjamin added. “A grand wouldn’t even cover books.”

Girlie leaned back and crossed her legs. “They could go to school at night. Many community colleges in the area have night programs. They shouldn’t have trouble finding another job. Both of them have excellent retail experience.”

“They certainly do,” Benjamin snapped. “Which is why Big Buy should promote them using the same criteria it uses to promote men.”

Girlie formed a teepee with her fingers. “I’m not sure how much actual litigation you do, but—”

“I do enough.” Benjamin was now scowling at her.

“Pre-litigation settlement discussions aren’t generally used to argue the merits of the case,” Girlie said in a tone more appropriate for a first-grader. “This is merely an attempt to reach a speedy compromise.”

“If Big Buy wants to settle this case, three months’ salary isn’t even in the ballpark,” I said. “And since you said your offer isn’t negotiable, I guess this meeting is over.”

“Shouldn’t you present my offer to your clients before you reject it?”

“I intend to do that. But I’m certain they won’t take it.”

“So exactly what
are
they looking for?”

I never opened with my bottom line.

“They want three years’ salary. They want to be enrolled in the company’s Management Training Program, and if they successfully complete it, they want a guarantee that they’ll receive the next promotion to department manager at any store within a 20-mile radius of their homes. They also want Big Buy to implement diversity training for all employees and to commit—in writing—not to discriminate against women in the future.”

Girlie chuckled. “Your demands aren’t at all realistic. And Big Buy decides what programs it implements, not the employees who sue them.”

“Fine. We’ll put twelve in a box and let them decide what my clients deserve. Based on what I know about the company, I wouldn’t be surprised if a jury came back with a seven-figure award.”

“Your clients still have jobs,” Girlie said. “No jury’s going to give two store clerks seven figures.”

“They’re not store clerks,” I said, knowing she was just trying to rile me. “And just so you know, those documents Judi got her hands on could really be problematic for your client.”

Benjamin blinked nervously like he had something in his eyes.

Girlie’s smile faltered at the mention of the documents and I enjoyed seeing the brief crack in her normally arrogant demeanor.

“So you have the documents?” she asked casually.

I wish.
“You’ll find out when I respond to your discovery requests.”

Girlie slid two sheets of paper to my side of the desk. “Here’s a copy of the offers in writing. Tell your clients they have seven days to consider them. After that, they’re off the table.”

Girlie stood up.

As I escorted her out to the lobby, I fantasized about pushing her down the elevator shaft.

“Is Lamarr appealing the jury’s verdict?”

Her matter-of-fact tone didn’t fool me. Tonisha was probably itching to get her hands on that money. I bet she was driving Girlie crazy just like Lamarr was testing my last nerve.

“Definitely.”

An elevator car dinged and Girlie stepped inside.

“Don’t forget my deadline. Big Buy’s offer is only open for one week.”

I gave her a wide fake smile as the elevator doors began to close. “If you don’t hear from me, then you’ll know our answer.”

D
etectives Mankowski and Thomas parked at the bottom of a shallow hill at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Glendale and watched as the small cluster of people gathered around Judi Irving’s gravesite meandered back to their cars.

They decided not to attend Judi’s funeral services, but figured they could easily observe their two prime suspects at the burial site without being obtrusive. Phillip and Robby stood on opposite sides of the crowd of mourners as Judi’s casket was lowered into the ground. Both men wore vacant expressions, no tears or other apparent signs of grief on their faces. Within minutes, most of the crowd had traipsed back to their cars and driven off.

Detective Thomas opened a folder and pulled out copies of two drivers’ license photographs. He scrutinized the pictures, then aimed his binoculars at two women who lingered near the open grave.

“I think I just spotted the two women who were part of Judi Irving’s lawsuit,” he said. “Olivia Jackson and Ida Lopez.”

The detectives waited until they began walking down the hill before exiting their sedan. They approached the women right before they reached a mid-size SUV.

“Excuse us for interrupting you at a time like this,” Thomas began. “We’re with the LAPD.”

He held out his badge. “I’m Detective Thomas and this is my partner, Detective Mankowski. We’d like to speak with you for a moment.”

Ida reached for the door handle of the SUV. Mankowski could tell from her red eyes that she’d had a good cry.

“About what?” Olivia asked.

“We’re looking into Judi Irving’s death,” Mankowski said. “We understand that you worked with her.”

“Yes, we did.” Olivia extended her hand. “I’m Olivia Jackson and this is Ida Lopez.”

Mankowski noticed that the Hispanic woman had stepped behind the black woman as if she was using her as a shield. “We’d like to ask a few questions about your lawsuit.”

“Oh, mi Dios!” Ida pressed both hands to her cheeks. “I knew it. I told you our lawsuit had something to do with Judi’s death.”

“You think her death was connected to your lawsuit?” Thomas asked.

“No, we don’t,” Olivia said, quickly dismissing her co-worker’s fears. “We don’t have any evidence of that.”

Mankowski pinned his gaze on Ida, wanting to hear her speak for herself.

Ida kept her eyes on the ground. “I just have this feeling.”

Mankowski leaned against the rear of the SUV.

“What can you tell us about the relationship between Judi and Phillip Peterman?” Mankowski asked.

“We don’t know a thing,” Ida replied quickly.

Mankowski decided to direct his questions to the more forthcoming black woman. “Did Judi ever tell you they fought?”

“No,” Olivia said. “Judi was crazy about him.”

“So they had a good relationship?”

Olivia inhaled. “To the outside world it probably looked like they did, but no one knows what goes on behind closed doors.”

Thomas folded his arms. “If you know something,” he said gently, “we’d really like you to share it with us.”

“I don’t know anything specific. I just didn’t like the man.”

“Why not?”

“Because he didn’t work except for a few acting jobs that barely paid minimum wage. I’m a modern woman, but he could’ve at least helped around the house. Judi worked all day and came home and cooked for him. She pampered him like he was a king.”

“Do you think he was involved in her death?”

“That’s crossed my mind.”

Ida huffed in disagreement. “I never saw anything but a happy relationship.”

“Don’t mind her,” Olivia snorted. “She wears rose-colored contact lenses.”

“What about Judi’s husband?” Thomas asked.

Olivia crossed her arms. “I don’t put nothing past nobody. Robby was as big a jerk as Phillip. He dumped her for some youngster, but he couldn’t handle it when Judi did the same thing.”

“We’d like you to come down to the station for a more formal interview,” Thomas said, removing two business cards from his pocket and extending them to the women.

Ida ignored the card. “I don’t know anything.” She opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

Olivia smiled as she took both cards. “She’s really upset about Judi’s death. I’ll bring her down with me.”

“What can you tell us about your lawsuit?”

“Big Buy doesn’t give women the same opportunities it gives men, so we’re suing them for sex discrimination,” Olivia explained. “A few days before she died, somebody sent Judi a bunch of documents with a note that said they would help our case. I was hoping Phillip would give them to us, but he claims he doesn’t know anything about them.”

“What kind of documents?” Mankowski asked.

“Judi died before she could show them to us. But they were apparently financial records which were supposedly harmful to the company.”

“Who sent them?” Mankowski asked.

“No one knows. The box just arrived in the mail. Judi looked up the return address, but it didn’t exist.”

The more Mankowski heard, the faster his mind began to churn with possibilities.

 “And Phillip claims he doesn’t have them?”

Olivia nodded.

After another fifteen minutes of questioning, Mankowski asked Olivia for the name of their attorney and allowed them to leave.

As they walked the short distance to their sedan, Thomas had a pensive look on his face. “Maybe we’re off track here,” he said. “Maybe Judi’s dead because of those documents.”

“I’m not ready to let Phillip Peterman or Robby Irving off the hook yet,” Mankowski said. “Three-hundred-thousand dollars in insurance proceeds is a lot of reason to want someone dead. Phillip’s agent still hasn’t returned our calls and Robby hasn’t shown up to provide his DNA.”

“Maybe those documents were the reason the house was ripped up,” Thomas pressed. “Somebody was looking for them.”

“Or,” Mankowski said, “maybe Phillip set it up to look like somebody else took the documents when he really has them. Just like he timed it so his alibi witness would be out of the country for six weeks.”

“So it looks like we have three persons of interest,” Thomas said, as they opened the car doors. “Phillip Peterman, who wanted Judi’s insurance money. Robby Irving, who thought he was going to get that money, and somebody else who wanted those documents. Somebody connected to Big Buy.”

“Time will tell who we can cross off the list,” Mankowski said, clipping his seatbelt in place. “And I doubt it’ll be Actor Boy.”