The Brass Verdict

We’ll put it into the package.”
    “You’re a good man, Dwight.”
    “I try to be. You will withdraw your motion now?”
    “First thing tomorrow. When do we go to court? I have a trial starting the end of next week.”
    “Then we’ll go for Monday. I’ll let you know.”
    I hung up the phone and called the reception desk on the intercom. Luckily, Lorna answered.
    “I thought you were sent home,” I said.
    “We’re about to go through the door. I’m going to leave my car here and go with Cisco.”
    “What, on his
donor
cycle?”
    “Excuse me,
Dad,
but I don’t think you have anything to say about that.”
    I groaned.
    “But I do have a say over who works as my investigator. If I can keep you two apart, maybe I can keep you alive.”
    “Mickey, don’t you dare!”
    “Can you just tell Cisco I need that address for the liquidator?”
    “I will. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Hope so. Wear a helmet.”
    I hung up and Cisco came in, carrying a Post-it in one hand and a gun in a leather holster in the other. He walked around the desk, put the Post-it down in front of me, then opened a drawer and put the weapon in it.
    “What are you doing?” I asked. “You can’t give me a gun.”
    “It’s totally legal and registered to me.”
    “That’s great but you can’t give it to me. That’s il-”
    “I’m not giving it to you. I’m just storing it here because I’m done work for the day. I’ll get it in the morning, okay?”
    “Whatever. I think you two are overreacting.”
    “Better than underreacting. See you tomorrow.”
    “Thank you. Will you send Patrick in before you go?”
    “You got it. And by the way, I always make her wear a helmet.”
    I looked at him and nodded.
    “That’s good, Cisco.”
    He left the room, and Patrick soon came in.
    “Patrick, Cisco talked to Vincent’s liquidator and he still has one of your long boards. You can go by and pick it up. Just tell him you are picking it up for me and to call me if there is any problem.”
    “Oh man, thank you!”
    “Yeah, well, I’ve got even better news than that on your case.”
    “What happened?”
    I went over the phone call I’d just had with Dwight Posey. As I told Patrick that he would do no jail time if he stayed clean, I watched his eyes gain a little light. It was as if I could see the burden drop off his shoulders. He could look once again at the future.
    “I have to call my mom,” he said. “She’s gonna be so happy.”
    “Yeah, well, I hope you are, too.”
    “I am, I am.”
    “Now, the way I figure it, you owe me a couple thousand for my work on this. That’s about two and a half weeks of driving. If you want, you can stick with me until it’s paid off. After that, we can talk about it and see where we’re at.”
    “That sounds good. I like the job.”
    “Good, Patrick, then it’s a deal.”
    Patrick smiled broadly and was turning to go.
    “One other thing, Patrick.”
    He turned back to me.
    “I saw you sleeping in your car in the garage this morning.”
    “Sorry. I’ll find another spot.”
    He looked down at the floor.
    “No,
I’m
sorry,” I said. “I forgot that you told me when we talked on the phone the first time that you were living in your car and sleeping on a lifeguard stand. I just don’t know how safe it is to be sleeping in the same garage where a guy got shot the other night.”
    “I’ll find someplace else.”
    “Well, if you want, I can give you an advance on your pay. Would that help you maybe get a motel room or something?”
    “Um, I guess.”
    I was glad to help him out but I knew that living out of a weekly motel was almost as depressing as living out of a car.
    “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “If you want, you could stay with me for a couple weeks. Until you get some money in your pocket and maybe get a better plan going.”
    “At your place?”
    “Yeah, you know, temporarily.”
    “With you?”
    I realized my mistake.
    “Nothing like that, Patrick. I’ve got a house and you’d have your own room. In fact, on Wednesday nights and every other weekend, it would be better if you stayed with a friend or in a motel. That’s when I have my daughter.”
    He thought about it and nodded.
    “Yeah, I could do that.”
    I reached across the desk and signaled him to give me back the Post-it with the liquidator’s address on it. I wrote my own address on it while I spoke.
    “Why don’t you go pick up your board and then head over to my place at this