Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I shake my head, wiping at my slobby nose with a crumpled Kleenex.
“No, because you’d be shocked at how messy my apartment is. I’ve only been back a few days but it already looks like a pigsty.”
My pretty friend smiles.
“You known I don’t care about that,” she hums. “I can come over, no problem!”
I clear the frog in my throat before wiping at my cheeks again.
“No, no, I’m going to be okay. Thank you so much but you’ve already listened to me so many times, Marns, and I’m so grateful. Besides, how are you?” I ask. “I’m sorry for going on about myself non-stop. You’ve been an angel listening to me, Marns, and I can’t thank you enough.”
The curvy brunette smiles.
“No, it’s fine. What are friends for? Besides, I’m good, and there’s nothing much to report.”
I stare at her through the phone.
“That’s not true, Marns. I’m sure there’s something. How about that guy you were dating, Philip? How’s that going?”
“Oh him,” she says with a silly smile. “That guy stood me up! We were going to go on our third date, and he even texted me around noon to confirm. But then when I showed up at the restaurant around 6 p.m., he didn’t come! Can you believe it?”
I’m stumped, blinking into the screen.
“Really? That’s so lame! Maybe he’s in the hospital or something? Or had some kind of family emergency?”
Marnie shakes her head dolefully, brown curls bouncing.
“No, I don’t think so. I can see he’s active on Insta, although he hasn’t posted anything. He’s just hearting other girls’ posts.”
I stare at her.
“Are you serious? Have you tried to contact him?”
“About a million times,” Marnie replies in a droll tone. “After twenty minutes of waiting at the restaurant, I must have texted at least five times. The messages went on “read” but he never texted a response, and then when I called, his phone went straight to voicemail.”
“What an asshole!” I say indignantly, my cheeks flushing with anger. “What the hell is up with these men? How can they treat us like this? It’s enough to turn a girl into a psychopath.”
“I know, or a lesbian, right? Or a nun, or some kind of aromantic person because I swear, guys these days are sooo low quality. I’m not going out with these dusty losers anymore.”
“Me neither,” I say with another sniffle. “Man, it’s rough out there!”
“You’re telling me,” Marnie agrees in a low tone. “But in other news, I got a new job!” she says, perking up. “Did I mention that?”
“No, but congrats, girlfriend! I thought you liked being a paralegal though?”
“No, I’m still a paralegal,” Marnie says with a smile. “I just switched firms. I’m now working for a smaller, boutique firm called Gibson Grant.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion.
“Wait, I’ve heard the name before. Isn’t that the firm that handled your dad’s … well, his … you know?”
“His execution?” Marnie asks.
“Yes,” I respond tentatively. “I mean, I’m so sorry about what happened. But your dad was their client, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” my friend says in a straight tone.
I peer at my buddy through the phone.
“So why are you working there?” I ask in a confused tone. “Weren’t you really happy where you currently are? I thought they even awarded you “Paralegal of the Month” recently.”
Marnie smiles easily.
“They did, and I love my current employer to pieces. But there’s still a lot about my dad’s death that’s a mystery, and I want to find out more. So I applied for a paralegal position at Gibson, Grant, and wa-la! I’ve been hired.”
I stare at Marnie through the screen because I’m getting some weird vibes here.
“Marns, they do know that Stanley’s your dad, right?” I ask cautiously.
She shrugs.
“Probably not, because our last name is so common. Plus, there’s no reason to think that I’d be Stanley’s daughter when we live in Minnesota and he was executed in California. But anyways, I want to talk to his attorneys. There were two leads, and I need to talk to them to figure out what happened.”
I shake my head.
“But why? And for what? I thought you had access to them when this all went down, so why now?”
“No, I didn’t,” Marnie says. “When Stanley was in the throes of his clemency appeal, his attorneys were busy. I mean, they were trying to save a man from being executed, and I didn’t want to get in the way, or burden then with more questions when they were already overburdened.”
“Okay, so you didn’t have much contact with them then. But still, why now? And for what purpose? Your dad’s gone, girlfriend, and I know it’s sad, but is it a good idea to excavate what’s dead and buried? Sorry for the gruesome metaphors, Marns. You know I don’t mean it that way.”
My friend nods determinedly.
“No, it’s fine, and I definitely think it’s worth it to talk with his attorneys again. Gibson and Grant were the legal brainiacs behind the clemency petition, and I just want to re-evaluate this stuff for myself.”