Trixie answered the phone brightly, “Blake Thompson, LLC, how may direct your call?”
“You sound so professional,” said Scott.
“Hello, Mr. Angrier. Old habits die hard. Mr. Thompson is in his office, would you like to speak with him?”
“Please.”
“One moment.” The music was 90’s pop music, which was better than the jazz-muzak that the old attorney’s office had.
“Scott!”
“You have me on speaker,” said Scott flatly.
“I’m multitasking and I seem to have lost my Bluetooth.” There was a click-thump, and Blake’s voice was deeper, clearer, and not as echoey. “Evening, loverboy. Let me guess, you need my professional services. That’s the only time you ever call me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Mmmhmmm. What is it this time?”
“Have you seen the news?”
“Um, you want to divest yourself of oil refineries in the Ukraine?”
“No–”
“A business you owned in Ferguson, Missouri got looted recently?”
“No!”
“Then you got me.”
“Knight was in the news.”
“Knight, who’s pregnant. Ohhhh. You want me to get restraining orders.”
“That might be good, but mostly, I want you to sue the hospital.”
“Which one?” Scott heard him open a drawer.
“He was in St. Claire for treatment of a broken leg, and he told them he was pregnant. News got out.”
Blake whistled. “That’s a federal offense. I’ll get the papers together tonight, have Knight sign them and get them served tomorrow afternoon the latest. We need to get there before the feds do, and luckily, the federal wheels of justice run slower than molasses on ice.”
“As Knight said, ‘Sue the paint off the fucking walls.’ ”
Blake chuckled. “That’s our Knight. As long as the feds don’t get their claws in there and freeze the assets of the place, we should be golden. It’ll probably be best and faster to settle out of court, because I’m sure Knight won’t want to go through a trial.”
“No. No, he wouldn’t like that.”
“Besides, his kids might be in school by the time we get to trial. I’ll take a look at the assets of the hospital, see how badly they’re tanking, and make an offer of a settlement based on that. At least half a mil, if it’s a hospital that takes Medicare patients.”
“What about libel?”
Blake chuckled. “You’re so cute when you try to talk lawyerese. Libel is if it’s published. Slander is if it’s spoken. Both are usually a lie. The news reported it as truth, and it is true, so I can’t sue the news organizations for libel.” He paused. “Once the St. Claire news organizations find out I’m suing that hospital, they might figure I’ll go after them next. And this is why I entered law school.”
“To sue?”
“To be the predator. To strike fear into the heart of other predators.” He closed the drawer. “I’ll have Trixie type everything up, and I’ll bring it by Knight’s house tomorrow in the morning. I’ll threaten whoever’s camping outside his door with restraining orders and get them to leave. How’s that?”
“That’s wonderful.”
“So when will I see you next?”
“I’m moving this weekend. Maybe next week?”
“Mmmmm, okay. My daughter wants me to go down to her place for one last barbecue this weekend anyway. Don’t hurt yourself moving.”
“We’re using teleporters.”
“Magic. I should have known. See you later, and watch the news tomorrow.”
Blake hung up the phone. It was already six, and Trixie was still here. He could see her if he tilted his chair sideways. The new office was part of a larger house that had been converted into offices. His next door neighbor was in real estate, and his upstairs neighbors were husband-and-wife accountants. Quiet neighbors overall.
He wasn’t in the city any more, either, which made his drive a little longer. He liked the view of his office, which looked out into a small copse of woods. He could open the windows and hear the birds sing in the morning.
He tilted his chair to see Trixie typing. “Trix?”
“Yes?”
The office was small enough so that he could yell from his office to her desk. Trixie turned around.
“How late can you stay?”
“Another hour?”
“If you stay two, I’ll buy you dinner from that fancy French place you like so much.”
“How about sushi?”
He shuddered.
“You eat raw meat,” she said, a lilt of a laugh behind her voice.
“Raw meat and raw fish are two distinctly different things. You never see a wolf fishing.” He got up and went to her desk.
“But bears do.”
“Bears are big and stupid. Anyway, we need to start paperwork for a suit.” He handed her a slip of paper. “They broke the Health Information Portability and Accountability Act. HIPAA.”
“The feds will get involved.”
Blake grinned, “Not if we get there first.”