Page 51 of Precise Justice

“Give her the phone. I’ll talk to her,” Marc told Robbie.

“No, she’s being nosey. I’ll hang up now. Thanks, Marc.”

Robbie ended the call then quickly put the phone in her jeans pocket.

Priscilla refused to look at Robbie. She was so angry she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Robbie found this so amusing she almost started laughing.

Priscilla parked in the driveway and angrily stomped in through the kitchen door. Robbie, finding her behavior quite funny, after waiting almost two minutes to let her get really steamed up, followed her inside.

Robbie found Priscilla standing next to the breakfast counter. One hand on the countertop, the other on her hip. Robbie realized Priscilla was trying to intimidate her. Again, Robbie had a difficult time holding in a laugh.

“What did he want?”

“Who?” Robbie replied.

“You know damn well who, Kadella.”

“Oh, him. Oh, let me think. I don’t remember,” Robbie said. She said that as she was walking past Priscilla. “Besides, it’s none of your business,” Robbie said, the proverbial last straw.

Priscilla grabbed Robbie’s arm and spun her around. “I told him, ordered him to never call you gain. Now, tell me damnit!”

“It’s none of your…” Robbie started to scream at her.

Priscilla lost it. She slapped Robbie across the face, twice, hard with her right hand. Robbie did not even blink. Still furious, Priscilla took one more swipe at Robbie, only this time she blocked it.

“I asked him if there was a way I could sue you, Dr. Frankenstein, that principal and school nurse at Sanger. Oh yeah, Dr. Miller and everyone involved in destroying my life! I hate it! I hate you and all of you for doing this to me!”

Priscilla was so shocked she simply stood, frozen, uncertain what to do or say.

“Are you happy now?” Robbie said almost in a whisper. By now, the tears were trickling down Robbie’s face. She brushed them off, turned and ran upstairs to her room.

* * *

A week later, Marc came into the office getting back from court on a criminal matter that was going to end badly for Marc’s client. An embezzler, a lawyer Marc knew who was accused of swindling an elderly woman out of two million dollars. The victim was quite wealthy and unwilling to testify against him. It was her children who saw some of their inheritance slipping away. Weird case when the victim would not sign the complaint.

Entering the office, Marc found Connie standing next to Carolyn’s desk. In her hand was a large envelope.

“Hey, um I think we need to talk,” Connie said to Marc.

“Okay, come on in,” Marc replied.

Inside Marc’s office, door closed, Connie tossed the envelope on Marc’s desk blotter.

“What is it?” Marc asked while hanging up his suit coat.

Connie remained silent as Marc picked up the envelope and read the return address.

“Office of Lawyers Professional Responsibility, 444 Minnesota St, blah, blah, blah. It’s kind of thick, too. Is that a bad sign?” he asked Connie while he sat down.

“Not likely a good sign,” Connie replied.

Marc found a letter opener in his middle desk drawer. While he sliced it open, Connie said, “You don’t seem too worried.”

“I know who it’s from,” Marc said, “and what it’s about.”

There were several pages of the complaint against him. He unfolded them and began to silently read.

“Robbie’s mother Priscilla, the flying broom tester?” Connie asked.