Miracle of miracles, we actually slept. If I dreamed, thankfully I didn't remember it. Karen was up before me, and I could smell coffee. I was still half asleep but, I managed to sit up in bed when she entered the room, fully dressed, carrying a peace offering plate of toast and a cup of coffee. I reached for both but she held back the plate. In my semi consciousness I'd forgotten we had a house guest. I glanced at my clock radio. It was nearly nine. I jumped out of bed.
"We've got to get our stories straight before Thatcher shows up on our door step," I said as I made for the bathroom. I left the door ajar so I could talk while taking care of business. "Whatever you do, don't tell him I'm pregnant! He'd blab to your father in a minute. And don't tell him about our house guest."
"I thought lawyers have to keep quiet about what their customers tell them."
"They can't hide criminal activity," I said as I stripped and flushed and turned on the shower. "We'll tell him about Sheila and Buddy and the cop, but be coy about knowing where Mary Ellen is. We don't want to put him in a compromising position." I stepped into the water before it was hot.
"May I ask him about a place Mary Ellen can go to have her baby?"
I peeked around the curtain to see her straddling the toilet seat cover, her back to me. "Let's do it in a theoretical way. We'll tell him maybe, if you happen to talk to her, you'll pass on information. How does that sound?"
"Will I have to lie to him? I've been trying really hard not to lie lately."
"Sorry if I've been such a poor example. If anyone has to lie, let me do it, but I'll try to be truthful. I'm already in major trouble, and there's no reason to compound it by fibbing to our attorney; unless we have to."
"Like doing something wrong for a good reason?"
"Something like that. Hand me a towel and scram, will you?" Karen stayed just outside the door as I hurriedly dried myself. "I'm not sure if I should mention Buddy's involvement. That's ticklish. We think that he molested Mary Ellen but accusing him could mean doomsday trouble."
"Thatcher can keep secrets," Karen said as she left the room.
I was on my second cup of coffee when the doorbell announced Thatcher Wright's arrival. We moved to the parlor after mutual greetings. Once we were seated, I acted as spokesperson and related our tale. Thatcher didn't interrupt us, but opened his briefcase for a pad and pencil and began taking notes. His eyes perked up when I described assaulting Sheila Murphy. He smiled, nodded in what I'd like to think of as approval and asked Mary Ellen's last name and that of the police officer. I told him.