Someone Like You. Susan Mallery

you might be, so I had Dave get the kids off to school. I don’t usually get here until nine-thirty.”

      Jill glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner. It was 8:25 a.m.

      “This is about when I start my day,” Jill said. In San Francisco, it had often started closer to five-thirty, but she wasn’t on the partner track anymore.

      “I have three kids,” Tina said. “They might be out of school, but I still have to get them off to their activities. Little Jimmy’s in the baseball camp down by the park and Natalie is…” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t think you’re that interested in my children, are you?”

      “I’m sure they keep you very busy,” Jill told her, trying not to stare as she noticed the other woman was wearing a polo shirt and Dockers. In a law office?

      Tina caught her gaze and tugged at the front of her shirt. “Mr. Dixon didn’t care if I dressed casually. You didn’t want me to wear a dress, did you?”

      Her tone indicated that it didn’t much matter what Jill wanted. “You’re fine,” she said, reminding herself that it wasn’t important. Who was there to impress?

      “Good. Then I’ll just show you around. This is the reception area. You probably guessed that. Recently closed cases are in that cabinet back there.” She motioned to a set of dark wood file drawers.

      Not even locked, Jill thought in amazement.

      “The older files are all stored upstairs. Your office is in here.” Tina walked through the open door and Jill followed.

      The fish motif was in full swing. Dozens and dozens of those from under the sea had been mounted on wooden plaques and hung on nearly every inch of available, paneled wall space. Fishing net draped across the front of the large wooden desk, where a couple of long-dead starfish hung on precariously.

      Bookcases lined two walls, while two open doors led to what looked like a storage room and a bathroom.

      “It’s very…” Jill turned in a slow circle and searched for the right word. Or any word. “Clean.”

      “There’s a service that comes in once a week,” Tina told her. “The coffeemaker’s in the storeroom. I guess I could make it if you want me to, but Mr. Dixon always made his own.” Her dark brown eyes turned misty. “He was a wonderful man.”

      “I’m sure.”

      “The heart attack was very sudden.”

      “Was he at work?”

      “No. Out fishing.”

      Of course, Jill thought, trying to avoid beady fish-eyed glares from the décor.

      Tina took a step back toward the reception area. “The paralegal comes twice a week. She’s home with twins, so sometimes she can’t make it in, but she gets the work done. I’ll let you know when I have to be gone. I try to bunch up things like games and doctors’ visits, so I’m not always running back and forth.”

      Jill had a feeling that Tina would go out of her way to make herself scarce.

      “Where are Mr. Dixon’s open cases?”

      Tina pointed to the desk. “There are a couple of wills, that sort of thing. Oh, and you have some appointments. Mr. Harrison later today and Pam Whitefield on Wednesday.”

      The latter name startled Jill. “Is this the same Pam who married Riley Whitefield?”

      “That’s her. She said she had some trouble with a real estate transaction.” Tina shrugged.

      “I’m surprised she’s back in town.” Pam had been a couple of years ahead of Jill in school and had always made it clear she was destined for a great future that didn’t involve Los Lobos.

      “She never left.” Tina inched toward the door. “I’ll be out front if you need me.”

      Jill glanced around the office. It was like standing in the middle of an aquarium for deceased fish.

      “Mr. Dixon caught all of these himself?” she asked.

      Tina nodded.

      “Perhaps Mrs. Dixon would like them as a reminder of her late husband.”

      “I don’t think so.” Tina shifted back a bit more. “She told me she liked knowing they were here in the office. Sort of like a tribute.”

      “I see.”

      While Jill didn’t want to get stuck with the aquatic menagerie, she couldn’t blame the widow for not wanting them in her home.

      “Thanks, Tina. What time is Mr. Harrison coming?”

      “About eleven-thirty. I have to leave about noon to take Jimmy to the orthodontist.”

      Why was Jill not surprised? “Of course you do. Will you be back?”

      Tina’s shoulders slumped. “If it’s important to you.”

      Jill looked at the fish, the paneling, the net and the long-past-dead starfish. “I’m sure we’ll be fine without you.”

      

      IT TOOK JILL less than two hours to bring herself up-to-date on Mr. Dixon’s open cases. She contacted the clients, offered her services and was prepared to give referrals if they preferred.

      No one did. Every single one of them made an appointment to come see her, which would have been gratifying if anyone had showed the slightest interest in his or her legal issues. Mrs. Paulson summed it up perfectly.

      “That old will,” the elderly lady had said with a laugh. “I don’t take it very seriously. I mean, I’ll be dead. What do I care? But sure, honey, if it makes you happy, I’ll keep my appointment.”

      Rather than tell the woman that very little about the situation made her happy, she put a check mark next to the time and date in the appointment book and told Mrs. Paulson she was looking forward to meeting her.

      “Your daddy was a fine man,” the older woman said. “A good judge. I’m sure you’ll do us all proud, just like he did.”

      “Thank you,” Jill said before she hung up. As her father had talked her into being here, he wasn’t one of her top-ten favorites at the moment.

      With all the appointments confirmed, Jill pulled a disk out of her briefcase and slid it into her computer. With a few keystrokes she was able to pull up her résumé and began to update the information.

      Mr. Harrison arrived promptly at eleven-thirty. Tina didn’t bother knocking—she simply pushed open the door and showed him in.

      Jill stood to greet him. There hadn’t been any hint as to his problem in the appointment book, but she figured she could handle it.

      “I’m Jill Strathern,” she said, walking around the desk and holding out her hand. “How nice to meet you.”

      “Likewise,” the older man said.

      Mr. Harrison was one of those thin elderly men who seemed to shrink with age. His hair was white and thick, as were his eyebrows. Wrinkles pulled at his features, but his blue eyes were clear and sharp and his handshake firm.

      When he’d taken the leather chair in front of her desk and just to the right of the fishing net, Jill returned to her seat and smiled.

      “I didn’t find any notes in Mr. Dixon’s file on your case. Had you been in to see him before?”

      Mr. Harrison dismissed the other man with a flick of his wrist. “Dixon was an idiot. All he cared about was fishing.”

      “Really?” Jill murmured politely, as if she wasn’t aware of dozens of beady eyes watching her. “So what seems to be the problem?”

      “Those bastards stole some land from me. Their fence is about twenty or twenty-five feet on my side.