Look Closely - Laura Caldwell [7]
I knew what Maddy was doing, but the questions didn’t feel threatening, so eventually I began to talk, my eyes still looking at the magazines, my fingers still turning the glossy pages. The questions grew more pointed, and by the end of our first year in law school, Maddy knew everything about me. She knew about my mother. She knew what I knew anyway, which wasn’t much. It was an odd freedom to release all those thoughts from the cage in my brain.
“I was just going to call you,” she said as she answered her phone now. In the background, I heard the ticking of cash registers and women’s voices. “I’m at Saks, and they’re having an incredible shoe sale. Those strappy sandals you wanted are forty percent off. Get your ass over here.”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll get enough of department stores this week. Plus, I have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your McKnight arb. You ready?”
“Check out the business section of the Times, and you’ll know the answer to that one. Listen, I have a question about Illinois law. You had a few cases there, right?”
“Well, sure, but mostly I just carried the trial bags and ran for coffee.” Maddy was also at a big law firm in Manhattan, and like many other young associates, she hadn’t gotten much trial experience. I, on the other hand, had been lucky. Right out of law school, during the dot-com boom, I’d started a cyber-law division at my firm. I was young and determined. I had time to learn this new area of law, and I liked not being under the thumb of the other attorneys. To everyone’s surprise, the division was a huge success, and the clients didn’t stop coming even after many of the start-up companies failed. There was still so much business and very few firms who specialized in cyber law. Since my department was now pulling in lots of revenue, they pretty much let me do whatever I wanted. In fact, I was hoping to make partner soon.
“Do you remember if they allow TV cameras at arbitrations?” I asked.
“I know they’re kept out of the courtroom. I don’t know about an arb, though. Sorry I’m not more help.”
“That’s all right.” I moved into the bedroom and took off my jogging shoes.
“How long will you be in Chicago?” Maddy said.
“A week or so.”
“You’ll be there next weekend, huh?”
“What are you getting at, Mad?” I pulled off my socks and slumped back on the bed. The satiny-smooth cotton felt cool under my legs.
“You know what I’m getting at. That bizarre letter. You’re going to Woodland Dunes, aren’t you?”
Like my father, Maddy knew me too well. Normally I loved her for it. “I’m just going to ask a few questions,” I told her, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
“Not smart, girl. Someone who writes a letter like that is not someone you want to mess with.”
“Right. Well.” It had occurred to me that maybe the author meant to be helpful in some way, but I wasn’t about to try to convince Maddy.
“Did you tell your dad?” she asked.
“Of course not.” My dad was my other best friend. We even worked together at Gardner, State & Lord, but he worried about me too much as it was.
Maddy sighed. “You can be such a pain in the ass. Just leave it alone, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
“At least promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will, I will.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll buy those sandals for you, and I’ll hold them hostage. You only get them if you’re a good girl, and come home safely.”
I laughed. “Deal.”
I stripped off the rest of my clothes and took