“You wouldn’t want the clients who are picking up when I call,” Jonah said. “I just spent twenty minutes listening to a guy who wants to sue Miller Brewing because he insists they secretly increased the alcohol content of Natty Lite, causing him to get drunk and back with his ex-wife after the company picnic.”

“What did you tell him?” Drue asked.

“I told him it sounded like a product liability case, which we don’t do. And I referred him to an asshole who graduated law school with me who does have that practice.”

“A revenge referral? I like it,” Drue said.

“Hey, Dad,” Drue said, poking her head around her father’s office door later that afternoon. “How’s Wendy feeling?”

“Come on in,” Brice said, waving her forward. Jimmy Zee sat in the wing chair opposite the desk. “Oh hey, Jimmy,” she said.

Zee nodded hello.

“Wendy’s fine,” Brice said. “The meds the doctor gave her have stopped the uh, issues. She’s sleeping a lot, and bitching at me because she’s bored and hates not being in the office, but that’s to be expected.”

“Glad to hear it,” Drue said. “I’m around all weekend, if you need anything.”

“Thanks, honey, that’s really nice of you,” Brice said. “I’ll let Wendy know you asked about her. It’ll mean a lot.”

“Good, well, sorry for the interruption,” Drue said, turning to go.

“You’re not interrupting. We were just finishing a case conference,” Brice said. “Zee’s got some video surveillance I need for an auto case, but Mr. Caveman here can’t figure out how to transmit it to me.”

Zee frowned. “I told you, I tried,” he said. “But my phone says the file is too big.”

“Just convert it to a download and email it,” Brice said impatiently.

“You know me,” Jimmy Zee protested. “I don’t do all this techno-shit.”

“So get Ben to do it for you,” Brice said. “But do it right away, because I want to get things squared away before we start discovery on Monday.”

Zee followed Drue into the bullpen and stood waiting, impatiently, by Ben’s cubicle, frowning down at Ben, who was wearing a rumpled, faded, Mötley Crüe concert tee. As soon as the younger man finished his call, he thrust his phone at Ben. “Here,” he said. “I need this converted into a whatever file. Like, now.”

“Can I ask what it is?”

“All you need to know is it’s video Brice wants sent to him before the end of business today,” Zee said. “Just do what you get paid to do, okay?”

“Fine,” Ben said, looking down at the phone. “But it would only take a minute to show you—”

“Not interested,” Zee said. “In the meantime, I’m gonna step out for a smoke.”

He turned and walked away.