Page 138 of A Dead End Wedding

"Charlie's former attorney named the distributor as a co-defendant. This is routine when you file a defective drug lawsuit. You want every possible deep pocket who may have liability in the suit."

I shook my head, tapping my pen on the desk. "But I'm really surprised by this. It's very rare that a distributor remains as a defendant. The tort laws protect those who only act as the transportation, with no opportunity to touch or tamper with theproduct. Plus, it's extremely unusual that a manufacturer would be suing its distributor. The manufacturers usually indemnify their distributors and retailers through formal agreements early in the case."

"Indemnify means acting as the backup or security in case of a loss, right?"

"Right. BDC must suspect tampering by somebody involved with the distributor."

"Or else BDC is trying to cover up its own negligence by suing other people," Max pointed out.

"No way. That's just not the way things work, and Langley Cowan is no amateur to this type of lawsuit. There has to be a specific reason for this. I need for you to research the relationship between BDC and the distributor. We need to know what kind of business relationship they have. That will help us determine if BDC would risk that relationship unless it had a reason."

Max was already halfway to the door. "You got it. This case is way more interesting than those real estate deals I worked on at my old firm."

"What? You never got to meet a billionaire?"

She laughed but kept going, leaving me to a morning of hard work following up on my other cases. Mr. Ellison came in to mutter dire warnings about the fate of Mrs. Zivkovich's son-in-law Nervil, but Daisy distracted him, and the two of them went outside to commune with nature.

I made him take a plastic bag.

Detective Harris called to follow up on Richard Dack, but I had nothing new to add to the statement I'd given him before. Nor, much to Harris's dismay, did I want to talk about my "drug cartel," so it was a quick phone call. He told me that Orange Grove Productions had confirmed that the date on the invoice was a clerical error – the ads had actually been filmed six weeksafterthat incorrect date – and that the company officially had no idea why the cameraman would have wanted to meet me.

"So, that's a dead end, Miss Vaughn. Although they did mention that they thought Dack had a minor drug problem going on, which leads me right back to you." His voice turned cajoling. "I can't help you if you don't work with me, December. We can beat this thing together. Just let me help."

"Look, I may not be a criminal lawyer, but I'm still a trial lawyer. Don't bullshit a bullshitter, as they say. Besides, I've seen all those cop shows on TV. If I had a drug problem – which I don't – you'd be the last person I'd tell."

He reverted to his gruff cop voice. "That's unfortunate. You'd be a natural for one of those TV specials. 'Hot Lawyers Behind Bars.'"

I shuddered. "Detective, you have no idea how much that just squicked me out. Thank you so much for sharing your perverted fantasies. I know I'll sleep better with you on the job. Now, if you don't mind?—"

He barked out a laugh. "Actually, Idomind, but I can't see as I have much choice. You think better of this stubbornness, you know where to find me."

We hung up, and I'm sure he was thinking I was a sick and twisted human being, too. Ah, the joys of the justice system. The entire conversation depressed me so much I went out for cheeseburgers.

Sometimes a girl needs french fries.

Max popped into my office around five, with Mr. Ellison trailing behind her, holding Daisy. "We made it through the entire day with no fresh assaults, threats, or actual crimes," she said, all perky.

"Which is how it should always be around here, considering we're acivillaw firm," I said, not perky at all. "The Social Security disability paperwork on some of thesepro bonocases is enough to drive a lesser attorney to drink. Since I'm feeling a lot like a lesser attorney right about now, want to go to Mama Yang's?"

Max laughed. "I'd love to, but I can't. I'm taking Daisy to the dog park with a friend of mine who swears that dogs are guy magnets. It's my turn, right?"

Mr. Ellison tried to look disinterested, but didn't pull it off all that well, since he had a lap full of puppy. "Sure, I don't care. It's not like I ain't got nothing better to do than take care of some dog. If I'd wanted all that trouble, I would have kept her for myself."

I nodded. "Okay, then. You don't have to take a rotation on the puppy sleepovers if you don't want to be bothered."

"Forget that! I already have a chart back in the file room with who gets what nights," he said. "That puppy is gonna have the hotties down t'the seniors going all gooey."

I grimaced. "Mr. Ellison, I really don't need to hear about your social life."

He snorted. "Yeah, you're jealous, on account of you don't have one."

Just because he was right didn't mean I had to admit it.

"I've called that Orange Grove Productions over and over, and they won't even talk to me anymore," he said.

Max nodded. "I have had no luck, either. But they did just fax us a corrected invoice that puts the video shoot at a dateafterBDC reported a problem with the insulin and the recall." She slid the sheet of paper across my desk, and I scanned it.

"It's a new date, all right. But if this is just about a clerical error, why was Mr. Dack so hot to talk to me? Why all the cloak and dagger?"

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