Page 127 of Maddy's Justice

Odessa’s phone rang just as the three of them were finalizing their plan. She answered it, listened for a moment then covered it with her hand.

“It’s Cliff Spenser, a lawyer from…” she started to tell her boss.

“I know who Cliff is. Why is he calling?” he pleasantly replied.

“They have a problem. He didn’t say what because his phone is not secure.”

“Cliff’s a smart guy. Have him send a text that only we can understand,” the island’s owner said.

Odessa relayed the instruction and two minutes later they received this text.

B.S. to end things with M.S. for good. Is done. Cannot stop it.

Odessa read it then handed the phone to her boss. Evan looked over his shoulder while they both read.

“Who is M.S.?” Evan asked.

“Melanie Stewart,” Odessa said.

“Brandon Stafford has made an arrangement to have Melanie Stewart killed,” the island’s owner said.

While he held the phone, another text came through. Cliff decided to tell him why.

M.S. found rm on 38.

“Melanie Stewart found the room on the thirty-eight floor of their building,” the island’s owner said.

“What are we going to do?” Evan asked.

“I’m not sure there’s anything we can do,” Odessa said.

“You go back to Chicago. I want that resolved tonight,” the island’s owner told Evan. “I’ll contact Quentin Forrest and see if there’s anything he can do to stop this.”

“Are you sure you want to?” Odessa asked.

He thought about the question for a minute then said to Evan, “Get back to Chicago. I’ll think about this.”

Quentin Forrest held the elevator door for the three young women before entering the car. He pushed the button for forty-four then stared at the door while it ascended.

The women got off together on thirty-three and again Quentin held the door for them. Of course, they thanked him, he smiled, and they all wished him a nice day.

I’ve never been in a place where people say that so routinely, he thought.And on top of it, they really mean it.

“I gotta get out of here,” he quietly muttered to himself as the car came to a halt.Get back east where everyone is rude and you expect it,he thought.

“I’m here to see Brandon Stafford,” he told the receptionist. “He’s expecting me, and I know the way,” Quentin continued as he headed toward the interior door.

“Okay. Well, have a nice day,” the receptionist said.

And there it is again, he thought lightly shaking his head.

To make it clear who was in charge, Quentin walked right into Stafford’s office without knocking. Both Stafford and Cliff Spenser were waiting.

“Well, just come right in,” Stafford said trying to sound tough.

“I will,” Quentin replied. “Over here,” he said to the two lawyers pointing to the more informal area with couch and chairs. He did not want to sit in front of Stafford’s desk while Stafford sat behind it. An almost childish power maneuver, but it works.

Quentin unbuttoned his sport coat as he sat down. When the lawyers were seated, he started.

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