Page 59 of Look at Her and Die

Pulling out my phone, I texted Apollo, and instantly got a text back.

Apollo:

Malone. 817-555-5535 That’s her personal number. Tell her I gave it to you and she probably won’t hang up on you.

Picking up my phone, I dialed the lawyer’s number and hoped she would answer.

She did, sounding annoyed. “It better be good. It’s barely eight in the morning, and this is my day off.”

“Malone,” I said. “This is Finnian’s friend, Posy. He gave me your number because I have a very delicate situation that I need advised on.”

There was a long moment of silence and then, “Is Apollo doing okay?”

I thought about that for a long second before saying, “About as to be expected.”

Which wasn’t all that great.

When you lost a son, pretty much twice, that tended to fuck with a man’s head.

“Damn.” She sounded off. “What’s your problem?”

I looked at Searcy for permission, and she nodded her head.

“I have a friend that won the Powerball from the beginning of summer and she doesn’t know what to do,” I said.

“Huh,” she said. “I always expected it to go to someone in California. They seem to be the regular winners of the mega millions. What’s this person’s name?”

I gave her everything with Searcy’s permission.

“First thing she wants to do is take photos of the ticket. Make photo copies of the ticket. Then tell her to go open a safe deposit box and put copies in there. Front and back. Tell her not to sign it, because we can claim anonymously in Texas,” she intoned. “Where is she? I can come there and we can get started. I have an attorney friend that specializes in lottery winnings, too. I’ll bring him with me.”

“She’s at my place,” I answered. “She’s understandably in shock.”

“As expected,” she said. “Text me your address. I’ll be there shortly.”

I did, then said, “Come on. We can go get photocopies of it in the office. You can send yourself an email of the copy with your phone. Then we can head to the bank and open a safety deposit box.”

“I don’t have any money to open one,” she admitted.

I thought about that for a few seconds before saying, “Instead of opening one, you can use my safe. It’s not like anyone knows we have any sort of relationship.”

“We do,” the young girl pointed out.

“Yeah, but I doubt you’ll rat out your sister.” I grinned at her. “What’s your name again?”

“Anders,” she answered. “That’s Kent.”

Kent offered me his hand and said, “Sorry for being rude earlier.”

I gave him a nod. “Protective of your sister is something that I can fully get behind. I have one of my own. Her name is Scottie.”

His head tilted. “Scottie Hicks?”

“You know her?” I asked.

“We’re in Ag together…” He paused. “Were.”

“She’s in the barn if you want to go find her,” I offered. “If I had to guess, I think she’s overfeeding Trixie.”

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