Page 39 of Maddy's Justice

“There’s a reporter from the Strib on the phone for you,” Carolyn said referring to the Minneapolis Star Tribune.

“Who is it?”

“Philo…”

“Anson. Tell him I’m dead. The funeral’s next week and he’s not invited. Then give him Maddy’s phone number,” Marc replied.

“If I do that you really would be dead. We’d miss Maddy. You would be dead, and she would be in prison and wouldn’t be able to visit us anymore.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel better. I’ll take the call. It’s gotta be better than what I’m doing.”

Marc pressed the blinking light and said, “Marc Kadella.”

“Marc, it’s Philo Anson and...”

“I know. Why aren’t you in New York working for the Times, sitting on panel discussions on CNN, bobbing your head up and down along with the rest of them?”

Philo broke into a whisper and said, “I can’t let anyone hear this, but just between us, I don’t think this president is doing a terrible job. He’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s trying to get some things done. I can’t let anyone hear me say this, though.”

“What do you want, Philo?” Marc asked.

“I’m doing an article on Stafford, Hughes,” Philo answered.

“No comment,” Marc quickly said. “Are you recording this?”

“Of course not,” Philo lied.

“I know you’re lying. Anyway, I cannot and will not discuss anything about an alleged client,” Marc said. “In fact, I won’t confirm or deny representation. Did you get that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m told there’s some strange things going on at this law firm. Or maybe some client of theirs.”

“Like what?” Marc asked.

“Sex trafficking across the southern border.”

“Get serious. Goodbye, Philo. No comment, Philo. If you use my name, I’ll sue your ass. You may win but I’ll make your life hell for the next five years,” Marc replied.

“Wait, wait, Marc…”

“Call Stafford, Hughes. I have no knowledge of any of this. Worse than suing your ass, I’ll sic Maddy on you.”

“That reminds me, is it true? Word on the street is you two are engaged…”

“Yes, it’s true…word on the street? Where have you been hanging out?”

“Cops,” Philo replied.

“Goodbye, Philo,” Marc said and hung up the phone.

Marc replaced the phone in its cradle and looked at the stack of papers on his desk. Using his fingers, he measured it and guessed it to be almost four inches deep.

“Even at four-fifty an hour, it’s not worth it to read through all of this crap,” he quietly said.

Marc pushed the papers aside and went back to the Answers to Interrogatories document he was reading. Before he could begin again, his intercom buzzed.

“Marc,” he said when he answered it.

“Hey,” he heard Connie say, “did you get through that discovery we received?”

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