“Ten thousand,” Max said calmly, “for which your client will be expected to sign a document quitting any further claim of any kind toward my client or her business. Live and let live.”
Inverno took this in with a nod and glanced at Tripp.
“Ten thousand,” he scoffed. “I know she made more than that.”
“That money is gone, Tripp,” Maya said in a calm, steady voice. “We spent it on kids who couldn’t afford to pay for services.”
“Your fuckin’ mistake,” Tripp replied. “The money got made. I want what’s mine.”
I glanced up and saw Ms. Lapland standing in the doorway. She came in with coffee in a cup and a look of disgust on her face and gave them both to Tripp. He leered at her openly, patted her utterly inappropriately, and said, “Thanks, baby.”
The look she gave him could have peeled paint and made her glares at me seem friendly by comparison.
Tripp didn’t seem to notice he’d gotten it.
Lapland gave Inverno an absolutely furious stare, even if it only lasted a second. She glanced at the bookshelf. Then she turned and left.
Huh. I glanced at the bookshelf and back to the door. What had that been about?
“We can go as high as fourteen thousand,” Max said reasonably. “That is all the money my client has.”
“Fuck that,” Tripp said, and sipped at his coffee. “I want what’s mine.”
Inverno turned to lean into Tripp and spoke quietly.
Tripp snorted. “Not just no. Fuck no.”
Inverno leaned back, glanced at me without any kind of shame or regret, and spread his hands. “I’m afraid your offer is rejected.”
Max nodded. “I can see that. I’m more than willing to work this out in court.”
“Of course,” Inverno said. “As am I, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Max said. He eyed Tripp with open loathing, shook his head, and said, “I think we’ve exhausted the possibilities here.”
“I concur,” Inverno replied. “We shall settle this before a judge. Though feel free to contact me should your client change her mind.”
Max nodded and stood up, gesturing for us to join him. I made sure he and Maya got out before I left the room, never quite turning my back on Inverno.
I ushered them out, past Ms. Lapland’s flinty gaze, and got them back onto the street without any supernatural violence of any kind coming down.
“Well,” Max said, as we walked to my car. “I see what you mean about Mister Gregory being an unreasonable fellow.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s hard to see a world where he isn’t a complete oxygen sink.”
“He’s vile,” Maya said quietly.
I sighed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find a more peaceable way through this.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “Some kinds of behaviors shouldn’t be tolerated peaceably.” She looked at Max. “Can you win?”
“Possible,” Max said, nodding vigorously.
Maya frowned. “Possible? But what he’s doing is so wrong.”
The old man spread his hands. “The law isn’t really as black and white as everyone thinks,” he said. “Everyone seems to think of the law as a line drawn on the ground. It’s more of a surveyor’s string—one with quite a bit of play in it. Various factors can pull the string this way or that. In this case, that’s what we’d be doing—hauling on that string to make sure you fell on the right side of the law and Mister Gregory on the wrong side. But I’ll be honest with you--they’ll be doing the same thing. It could go against us.”