Page 61 of Maddy's Justice

“Sorry, Henry,” Marc said.

By now they were in Connie’s office with the door closed.

“Why do these guys do that?” Connie asked. “His mother gives him a perfectly good name and he has to call himself H. Dalton. In fact, I like Henry better than Dalton. Dalton sounds…I don’t know, a little, what’s the word?”

“Gay?” Marc said.

“I’m glad you said it,” Connie laughed.

“I’ve been told I’m not the most PC guy around. Although, you’re worse,” Marc said. “I was tempted to call him H a couple of times.”

“How would he come across as a witness?” Connie asked.

“Horrible. The jury would want to kill us before they went after him. That reminds me, put him on our to-do list to find a way to get him disbarred. He even took a shot at our office. Not plush enough for him.”

“That does it,” Connie said. “He’s definitely on the list. The reason I wanted to talk to you, while you were in with H, I got a call from Lori Quinn. Offer rejected.”

“Any counter?” Marc asked.

“Nope, and I asked. Told me it was too early. She said straight out she believes there will be more plaintiffs coming forward,” Connie said.

“She’s got an investigator out looking at past and present women employed by Stafford, Hughes,” Marc said.

“We would if we had her case,” Connie said.

“And maybe we better get a little more serious about it,” Marc replied.

“Yeah and that’s gonna get expensive,” Connie said. “I called Melanie Stewart. She won’t be in the office until two o’clock. I made an appointment.”

“Why do we have to go down there? Why can’t you just call her?”

“Because I want to see the look on her face when she finds out we made a settlement offer that she doesn’t know about,” Connie said.

“How do you know she…?” Marc started to ask.

“Because I’ve talked to her several times and she’s never mentioned it.”

“Interesting. Let’s get an intraoffice fight going among them. That might be fun. Hey! Maybe I’ll run into H. See how pissed off he gets when he sees me at his office the same day I insisted he come here to be interviewed.”

“I like that about you,” Connie said. “That naughty, mischievous little boy side of you.”

Even though there was a wall clock directly in front of him, Marc looked at his watch, sighed and stood up. He walked behind Melanie’s desk and stared out the window at US Bank Stadium, the Mississippi River, and the University of Minnesota.

“All men are like little boys most of the time. You can’t sit still doing nothing for more than ten minutes,” Connie said.

“Just checking the view,” Marc said. “Beautiful day to be on a lake or a golf course.”

“You don’t golf, and you don’t own a boat,” Connie said. “Besides, we can bill this at four fifty an hour each.”

“Take your time, Melanie,” Marc said while still looking out the window.

Less than ten seconds later, a harried looking Melanie Stewart came into the room. She sincerely apologized at least three or four times for keeping them waiting, dropped her briefcase on an empty chair while Marc returned to his seat.

“I was in federal court. We were arguing a discovery motion before Judge Herald. Do you know him?” Melanie asked.

“Isn’t he one of the judges you know…,” Marc said to Connie then turned to Melanie and said, “I’ll put this delicately.”

“Shut up, Marc,” Connie said.

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