Sunny - Mona Lisa Eclipsing

“Did you get that, Quentin?” I asked.

“Yup,” he said, his fingers busy typing on the keys. “Boy, does he seem eager for our business. Sounds like the receptionist got her lazy and sarcastic ass kicked.”

The final message was from McManus, called in less than half an hour ago.

“It’s six o’clock, Ms. Hamilton, and I’ve gotten over two hundred emails. Your bill is four thousand dollars now. Call me!”

Flipping the phone closed, I looked at everyone in silence. “Wow. I guess a lot of people want to talk to us.”

“Four thousand dollars!” Hannah said, harrumphing loudly. “I hope that’s not in addition to the retainer we gave him.”

“Nope, it’s not,” Dontaine said, doing a quick calculation. “Four hundred dollars an hour and ten hours of his time so far. Minus the one-thousand-dollar retainer, we owe him another three thousand dollars and counting, until you call him and tell him otherwise.”

“Call Wagner first,” Dante suggested. “If you like him, we can transfer everything to their media relations specialist to handle. Their services might be even more expensive,” he warned, “but it sounds like McManus is out of his depth.”

Wagner answered on the first ring.

We talked.

I liked what he had to say, up to the point when I asked him how much it would cost, and found out he couldn’t give me a figure until we sat down with him and a few other members of his firm, and discussed in exact detail what our goals were. That, he said, would take an hour, at the very minimum.

When I asked if he could meet in half an hour, Wagner politely said that was unfortunately not possible as it was very late in the evening, and offered to meet with us nine a.m., first thing in the morning. That resulted in an explanation from me that we usually slept during the day and awoke around six at night, the time when their office closed. There was some more discussion on whether we could meet earlier in the morning or in the early evening, with Wagner’s law firm extending their business hours to accommodate us. We both agreed the earlier the better, and we settled on seven a.m. the next morning.

My next call was to McManus. He picked up on the third ring. “McManus here,” he growled.

“It’s Lisa Hamilton, returning your call.”

“About time!” he roared. “Why the hell didn’t you call me back sooner?”

“We were sleeping and my phone was turned off. I just turned it back on and got your messages. Thanks for fielding all the calls for us.”

“Expensive damn answering service, at four hundred dollars an hour.”

“I agree. We’ll be happy to take over from here. How about we settle things tonight?” I offered, since there was no guarantee of a tomorrow if things went sour, and gave him the name of the mall we were at. We agreed to meet in half an hour—how long it would take him to drive here—at the outdoor restaurant I had glimpsed next to the mall entrance.

“Including the time it’ll take me to drive there, that will be a total of eleven billable hours,” McManus said.

“We’ll have three thousand four hundred dollars in cash waiting for you,” I assured him.

“Good. I’ll have a receipt ready and can hand you all of your messages. Who do I tell people to call when they contact my office looking for you?”

“It’ll most likely be one of the three law firms I mentioned to you. I should have a name and number for you early tomorrow morning.”

“Good luck,” he said. “They’re even more expensive than I am.”

I said good-bye and hung up. “Ouch,” I said, wincing. “Even more expensive . . . that’s hard to believe.”

“What do we do now?” Kelly asked. “Sit here for half an hour waiting for the lawyer?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” I said. “If we go in to buy stuff now, chances are some of us will be recognized and we have to make a quick exit. Best to wait until McManus is here.”

“Why?” asked Dante.

“Why what?”

“Why do we have to run?” Dante asked in a reasonable tone. “If our goal is publicity, here will do just as well as any other place. We don’t have to wait until tomorrow to call any of the reporters back. If we stay here, they’ll come to us, and the outdoor restaurant of the mall will be as good a spot as any other to talk to the media. We’re lucky the police haven’t tracked us down yet. They know our names now and my mother used her driver’s license to rent this vehicle.”

“This van is one of their most basic models. I doubt it has a tracking system installed,” Quentin noted. “But if they know the make, model, and license plate of our rental, Dante’s right. Cops will probably be on the lookout for it now.”

So it was only a matter of time before they found us. That put things in better perspective. Cops, bad. Media and publicity, good.

We took another few minutes to iron out our plans and yet more discussion to divide ourselves up into three groups. Amber, Quentin, and I were assigned to get a laptop—Quentin had insisted having a computer was essential. Dante would go with Jarvis and Kelly to buy stuff for them and to grab some hats and sunglasses. Dontaine, Hannah, and Nolan would hit Staples for basic office supplies, like pens, envelopes, and notebooks.

Kelly’s mouth dropped open when Dontaine opened the briefcase full of cash.

“That’s a lot of money,” she said, her eyes as round as saucers.

“I thought so, too, at first. But it’s going real fast,” I said mournfully watching as Dontaine counted out McManus’s fee, eliminating two of our stacks.

Dontaine reminded everyone to get receipts and started doling out money to the three groups.

“Just a sec,” Quentin said. “I used the guest computer in the lobby while you guys were sleeping. Per the U.S. Treasury web site, the Treasury stopped printing all the larger denomination bills after World War II. So all the five-hundred-, one-thousand-, five-thousand-, and ten-thousand-dollar bills are collector items.” That eliminated the entire bottom row of money. He rifled through the remaining stacks, removing some of the older dated fifties and one-hundreds. “Keep these separate, as well,” he said, handing them to Dontaine. “They also might be collectible.”

That left only a few pitiful stacks of money for our immediate use, I noted with a sigh. “Hannah, if you can hang on to the briefcase, that will free up Nolan’s and Dontaine’s hands.”

Hannah nodded.

“Okay, don’t forget,” I reminded everyone. “When everyone’s done shopping, each group will get a separate table outside at the restaurant. Amber will guard our table while Quentin and I talk to reporters. Likewise, Dante will keep an eye out, freeing Kelly and Jarvis to answer questions, and Nolan will stand guard while Hannah and Dontaine talk to the media.”

“Milady, you wish us to talk to reporters?” Jarvis asked with discomfort.

“Yes, six of us answering questions will be better than just me talking.”

“What are we allowed to say?” he asked.

“Easier to tell you what to avoid. Don’t mention Prince Halcyon, the Queen Mother, the specific names of any Monère Queens or the territories they rule, or any details about what hurts or weakens us. Talking about Hell or NetherHell or my brother is also a big no-no. Do you and Kelly know about me and Dante? Our past history together?”

“No, milady,” Jarvis said.

“Good, so you won’t have any problem there, but that’s something you shouldn’t talk about either. And no mentioning curses or reincarnation or anything like that.” The list of things-not-to-mention was longer than I had thought.

“But everything else is fair game,” I told him. “Don’t worry about it too much, Jarvis. Just answer whatever you feel comfortable answering. If they ask you a question you don’t want to answer, you just say something like, ‘I’m sorry, I’d rather not answer that,’ and refer them to me. Okay?”