Page 76 of Legally Mated
“We can bring the truck back and pick itupthen.”
“Andgetfood.”
“And get food. Do you ever think about anythingbutfood?”
“It’s how they motivated us in the office,” Jack said, completely deadpan. “Press a lever, get a case, eat ahamburger.”
Laine snorted and put the lamp whose cord he was untangling down on the receptionist’s desk. “Let’s go then, Pavlov’s prosecutor.” They headed for the door, but Laine paused halfway down the stairs. Someone was peering in through the glass and trying the door with its brand new sign declaring this the home of Montague and Burgess. Several someones, actually; Laine counted one adult, and threechildren.
“Hey, maybe they’re clients,” Jack jokedbehindhim.
“Ha, maybe,” Laine said, but when the curious strangers moved, the sun’s rays slanting down the street glinted off something small and shiny and bright, poisonous yellow. Tabs. Automatically, he checked the time, but they still had hours to go before curfew. “They’re shifters,” he said, not taking his gaze away from the figures in thestreet.
“Oh,” Jack said, and Laine couldn’t parse the emotion intheword.
“I’m going to go see what they want,” Laine told Jack and descended the rest of the stairs before Jack could say anything. He twisted the deadbolt and pushed the heavy glass and steel open an inch. “Can Ihelpyou?”
“You’re the Mercy Hills lawyer, right?” The young man was tall and about ten pounds lighter than he should have been. The three children—two girls and a boy, if Laine was any judge—were obviously relatives, with his same golden tan skin and darkbrownhair.
“If you mean, was I the lawyer who defended Mercy Hills against Montana Border, I am. What can I doforyou?”
The young man swallowed and glanced nervously up the street, then turned back to Laine. “Abel said if I ever needed anything, I should come find him. I need a lawyer.” He lunged suddenly for one of the girls as she scampered blithely away, hissing, “Pip!Stayhere!”
Laine turned to glance over his shoulder at Jack. “I guess you wereright.”
Jack gave him a pained look. “I’ll go set the chairs up.” He started to climb back up to the office, but stopped on the top stair to look back down at them. “I’m orderingpizza.”
Laine cast a glance at the shifters standing on the sidewalk. “Get extra.” He pushed the door open wide. “Come in. You guys likepizza?”
“They do. Go on,” the man told the kids, shooing them through the door. “Up the stairs. Don’t run!” He grabbed one of the girls by the back of the shirt, the one he’d called Pip earlier, to keep her from barreling up the stairs. “You’re a guest. You don’t just go tearing through the place like a wildanimal.”
Laine rubbed his upper lip to hide a smile, and followed them up the stairs and into the disaster that was the office. “We can sit in here,” he said, herding them toward the conference room, the only spot with enough space for everyone. He got them all settled around the table, the echo of Jack’s voice ordering three large pizzas with drinks and dessert seeming a sufficient bribe to keep the three kids—pups, he supposed—in theirseats.
“So,” he said, taking the cap off a pen and checking to make sure it still worked. “You said you wanted a lawyer—I’m sorry, what did you say yournamewas?”
The man licked nervously at his lips. “Raleigh. Raleigh Jackson-Jellystone. And yes, I think I need one. I need to talk to Abel first though. You still work with Mercy Hills, right?” His eyes shone with hopeandfear.
“I do, though my job description has changed a bit.” Laine wrote down Raleigh’s name. “And what do you think you’ll need alawyerfor?”
Raleigh’s knuckles went white on the edge of the table and his lips twisted as if he needed to force the words out. “I want a divorce. And to move to Mercy Hills.” He looked up at Laine and said, in a voice as firm as his previous words had shaken, “Sanctuary.”
* * *
Laine slipped awayfrom the noisy meal of pizza and apple crisp going on around the long table in the conference room, and closed the door to his office behind him. He wanted to make this call without an audience, justincase.
Safe on the opposite side of the wall, Laine called Garrick. It wasn’t without a little apprehension, but it was Garrick who had extended the invitation to come to Midwinter Moon, so Laine took that to mean he hadn’t screwed up quite entirely last month. The question of their relationship status, though, was still up intheair.
“Hi, are you leaving now?” Garrickasked.
“Not yet. I have acomplication.”
“Oh? What happened?” Garrick askedwarily.
“I have some clients, I guess. They came here lookingforAbel.”
“Abel? Why? Who is it?” The wariness was gone, replaced with Garrick’s normalcuriosity.
“Raleigh Jackson-Jellystone. And his pups. Threeofthem.”
