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are going to have to jump in the deep end this week. While I do demand a lot, it won’t always be this chaotic.”
    “It’s not a problem. I’ll adjust and make sure I keep an array of clothing choices on hand for future events. I noticed you have the scholarship charity dinner on Thursday, but you RSVP’d as a maybe. Should I decline or accept it?”
    “Accept. It was only a maybe to get Armand off my ass.” When his friend had been trying to manipulate him into declining any number of events so he’d stay home. “That will be full formal and I have a half-dozen clients who will also be attending in addition to the grand duke, so we’re not going to have a lot of time to enjoy the function. Do you need something to eat? I have more sandwiches stocked.” It was the one habit Miranda drilled into him. She had a service stock the fridge weekly and he had to eat at least half of them or she’d start canceling his appointments.
I
wonder if Miranda put that in her notes?
Would Kate make the same kinds of threats?
    “I’m fine, thank you. Water?” She’d retrieved two bottles and returned to the desk before he could nod. A line in the second continuance held his attention and he had to read it three times.
    Leonard stipulated he’d suffered grievous injuries during an armed robbery in Johnson’s convenience store. The owner, Johnson, had also been injured—he’d sustained a gunshot wound to his shoulder. Total physical damages amounted to about fifteen thousand dollars, but loss of work and having to close his store for repairs while in the hospital had cost Johnson considerably more. Leonard’s suit cited Johnson’s refusal to cooperate with the armed robbers—identified as two men of Latin descent in their late teens, early twenties. Though they were wanted on a string of related crimes, neither subject had been apprehended.
    When Leonard brought suit against Johnson, he maintained he’d been unable to work, had suffered mentally, physically, and emotionally following the attack and had a doctor diagnose him with PTSD. But the second continuance had been asked for and sustained because Leonard had to be out of town.
    The judge had granted the request because Richard had been in the hospital and still recovering. Richard hadn’t thought much of it, but he’d also been on painkillers. Scrolling through the pages, he looked for the attending evidence attached to the continuance—where had Leonard needed to be that he couldn’t be in court?
    Reaching for the phone, he punched in the number for one of the investigators he kept on retainer. “Hey, Mitch, it’s Richard.”
    “Welcome back, man. How’s your first day?” A former member of the LAPD, Mitch Blake had taken medical disability after a drunk driver left him with a permanent limp and partial hearing loss, but neither injury had done anything to damage his sharp mind.
    They’d met via a case when Richard had defended another officer in a civil suit. Mitch had been honest about his fellow officer’s anger management issues, but adamant that he’d been in a solid frame of mind during the arrest. After his accident, Richard had offered his services free of charge and they’d worked together on several cases since. Mitch was a straight shooter, and he’d helped Richard with other delicate cases including two relocations.
    He trusted him.
    “Busy as hell. Look, I know you’ve probably got a lot on your plate and this may be nothing, but I need a fast turnaround on some information.” Richard picked up a pen and twirled it around between two fingers. Across from him, Kate held up her notepad with a single question mark on it.
    “Whatcha got?” Brisk and to the point—it was why he and Mitch worked so well together.
    Shaking his head in answer to her silent query, he tapped his pen on the desk. “John Leonard, age 42. Lives at 4421 Wilkins Avenue—he stipulated that on April 14th he had to be out of town and was unable to attend court. Can