Lisa Scottoline - Daddy's Girl

"If we feed him, he'll go," Hank answered, glued to the game.

"YES! THREE POINTER! WE'RE ON THE MOOOOOV-VVEEE!"

Nat poured herself a new glass of wine. She took a sip, mentally going to Plan B. She'd offer Paul some extra lobster salad, and then she and Hank could eat alone after he'd gone. At least Hank was hungry. Even in the bright light, the lobster salad looked delicious.

"I'd kill for a burger," Hank said to the TV, his eyes dancing across the basketball court.

"BURGERS WITH CHEESE! PICKLES! THE WORKS! YES!"

Nat blinked. "I made the perfect lobster salad."

"We had lobster for lunch, babe. " Hank threw his arms in the air. "Oh, come on, Iverson! You gotta make that shot!"

Lobster for lunch? "Who has lobster for lunch?"

"YES! WHAT A SHOT! C-WEB! SO SMOOTH! DIDJA SEE THAT? SWEET!"

"We took clients to the Palm."

"Why is Paul here?"

"We took one car. He's dropping me off. Do we have any burgers?"

Nat sighed inwardly. At the prison. Wanna go?

"Shoot, you lard ass!"

"A.I. WITH THE FADEAWAY! YES! I SWEAR, THIS IS GOIN' INTO DOUBLE OVERTIME!"

Nat went to the refrigerator for ground beef.

Later, after the Sixers beat the Celtics in triple overtime, and Paul and his mouth had finally gone home, Nat and Hank sat at the table, she behind a cup of Celestial Seasonings and he a bottle of Heineken.

She told him the lite version of the Buford story, then about Saunder's death his last words, and the visit to his widow. "That's terrible, babe." Hank eyed her, his brown eyes rich with sympathy, and his usual grin gone for good. "You could have been really hurt."

"I know."

"I mean, this Buford character, what if he had gotten out of control? You could have been killed."

Tell me about it. "Honestly, I feel as if that's almost behind me. What's in front of me is telling the wife."

Hank scratched his head, mussing his red-brown hair. "'It's under the floor'? What did he mean by that?"

"Maybe his will, or some money? I don't know, but I hope she'll understand when I tell her." Nat sipped her cooling tea. "I dread going out there again."

"Then why don't you just call? Tell her over the phone."

"I told her I'd go back."

"Women." Hank smiled and took a swig from the green bottle, then Nat filled him in about the visit to the prison and the press release, which was where they disagreed. Hank set down his bottle. "I don't think they need to put in the press release where the bodies were found."

"Why not?"

"First off, it's disgusting. Second off, no company would explain every gory detail in a press release, especially if it makes them look stupid."

"But they're not a private company. They're a prison, a state-run facility. They account to the public, not to a president or CEO."

"I don't see what difference it makes."

Nat thought of Angus. "Don't you think the neighbors have a right to know? The question is, who decides?"

"But what's the point of telling the neighbors? It'd just get them all upset. They were never in danger."

"But it's not the truth."

"So what?"

"There is no 'so what.' The truth is its own end. They created a false picture. I was there, and it was chaos."

"Well, the good news is it's over." Hank cocked his head, his grin returning. "You talk to the widow, then you and this guy-what's his name?-Angus, you'll stop running around and get back to work."

"We're not running around."

"What're you doing then?"

"Following up."

"Not your job, babe."

"You jealous?"

"You know the answer to that." Hank smiled, because she did know.

"Even though he has a long blond ponytail and asked me out?"

"And I bet you told him no. You love me, and we both know it. How could you not?" Hank rose with the empty bottle. "By the way, that cut on your cheek? It looks hot, bad girl."

Nat managed a laugh. Then you're gonna love my chest.

"Did Angus get hurt, too?"

"Yes, on his face."

"Good. Remind me to hit the guy if I ever meet him." Hank snorted. "Bring a little excitement to those boring law parties."

"Don't be silly."

He takes you to a prison, then gets you to save his lame ass? He needs a girl to rescue him?"

Nat frowned. "You didn't really say that, did you?"

"Bottom line, it's true, isn't it?"

The prisoners work out all the time, Hank. Angus is a law professor, and he did fight for me." I just didn't tell you that part.

"Hell, you were tougher than he was. A true Greco! Ha!" Hank rose, but Nat was feeling defensive. And guilty for not telling Hank the whole truth about Buford. He would see, in bed.

"Ready to go up?" she asked, rising.

"Now you're talking." Hank threw an arm around her, and the wall phone started ringing.

"If that's Paul…" Nat reached over and picked up the receiver. It was a man's voice, but not Paul's. "Hello?"

"Professor Greco?"

"This is she."

"Mind your own business. Stay outta Chester County, bitch."

The next day, Nat was trying to focus on teaching her seminar but wasn't succeeding. She'd dressed in a new navy suit to get herself going, but her energy lagged. She'd hardly slept, from worrying about the phone call and fighting with Hank. He'd thought the call was warning her not to go see Barb Saunders, but she thought the call was about the prison, maybe from Bufords friends or family. They went to bed again without making love, which meant that Nat hid her scratches under her sweatshirt for another night. It was strange and new, to be keeping so much from Hank.

"So, as you know," Nat continued, "Brown v. Board of Education struck down the doctrine of 'separate but equal' in public education. The case was a landmark in the history of justice. It's hard to believe, but there was a time in this country when it was considered just for black and white children to attend separate schools, as long as the schools were allegedly equal."

Nat eyed her students, who looked unusually attentive, despite their compulsive IM-ing. Anderson, coiffed and prepared, was paying rapt attention, and so were Carling, Gupta, and Chu. They'd heard about the prison riot, and Nat's new Band-Aid was proof that she'd been there. She wondered if Angus had gotten a call last night, too. She'd phoned him before her morning classes, but he hadn't answered.

"The Supreme Court in Brown recognized that discrimination creates a permanent underclass of human beings, an anathema to the constitutional principle of equal protection under the law." Nat's heart wasn't in it, and she sounded flat, even to herself. "I hope you see Brown as a logical follow-up to our discussion of Shylock and the effects of discrimination."

"Professor Greco?" Carling raised his hand. He had on a black knit cap, very Josh Hartnett.

"Yes?"

"How about we put on another skit? I'll be Brown and you be the Board of Ed." Carling grinned, and the class laughed.

"No, thanks." Nat didn't even mind the joke. Then she got an idea. "Mr. Carling, did you do the reading for today?"

"Of course. I had to, after last class. I couldn't take the chance with my grade."

Whatever works. "Then why don't you come up and present the case?"

"For reals?" Carling's grin broadened, and eight other mouths fell open.

"Why not? You guys present cases in your other classes, don't you?

"In the big classes, sure."

Ouch. "So let's give it a try here. We're small but we're mighty. You said you could be a teacher. Go for it."

"Sweet!" Carling practically leapt from his seat, and the class started talking among themselves, their faces reanimated over the lids of their laptops. Wykoff and Gupta high-fived each other, for reasons known only to young men.

"Everybody," Nat said, "please give the professor your full attention." She left the stage as Carling sauntered up with his case materials. He wore a Sean John sweatshirt and baggy jeans that slid down as he strode to the lectern, where he eyed the touch screen with lust.