The Family Business by Eric Pete, Carl Weber Page A

giving it to you. But I’m not the only one with concerns.”
    “Okay, so if you were in my shoes, how would you have handled it?”
    He took his eyes off the road for a second so we could make eye contact. “Well, if I were you,” he began cautiously, “I would have named a temporary leader. That way if Vegas comes home, he can just take over, and if he doesn’t and the temp does a good job, you could make him permanent—or if Orlando is ready by then, you could put him in charge.”
    “Sounds to me like you have this all worked out. So, who would you appoint temporary leader?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know who he would say.
    He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and placed one hand on his chest in a falsely humble gesture. “Hey, look, I don’t want to sound self-righteous, but I would have appointed me.” Oh, he sounded self-righteous, all right. “I already know the ins and outs of the businesses as well as you. I have a law degree, which, I might add, comes in mighty handy, and I have the respect of most of our employees. I could have done a great job. I would have made you proud.”
    “And you don’t think Orlando will?” I asked, pushing.
    “No, sir, I don’t.”
    I sighed out of sheer exhaustion. Why did it seem like everyone in my family was determined to try my patience tonight? “Harris, if you’d like, once we get Paris home and I get some sleep, I will explain to you in detail why I chose Orlando over you. From what you said here, you’ve made a good case for yourself. I’d like you to listen to the case that was presented against you. Would you like that?”
    He turned to me and smiled. “Yes, sir, I would, as long as I get a chance to redirect and defend myself.”
    “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Harris
     
    13
     
    Once again I came through like a champ, saving the Duncans’ asses and doing it with style. It took me less than fifteen minutes to get Paris out of police custody, a feat I was sure impressed LC. She’d still have to come back in a few days and answer the cops’ questions, but hopefully by then this whole thing would calm down so I could sit down with the right people to have it all swept under the rug. LC had made it very clear to me that he did not want Paris or the Duncan name attached to this case in the media in any way. Of course, that was a tall order, but doable considering how greedy both cops and reporters were these days. I’d already made some inroads with the lieutenant on the case, so I wasn’t concerned about the police, and thankfully, it was already too late for the story to make the morning papers or TV news.
    Now all I had to do was get Paris home. That, of course, was if LC didn’t kill her first, because when I walked out into the hallway, the two of them were staring each other down like gunfighters at the O.K. Corral.
    “Daddy, I didn’t do anything. I swear,” Paris pleaded, taking a step back so she was out of his reach—which was probably smart, because LC did look like he might smack the shit out of her.
    “Shut up,” he said angrily, pointing his finger in her face as he closed the gap between the two of them. “Just shut up. Don’t you say another word.”
    “But, Daddy—” That damn Paris just didn’t know when to be quiet. She was always trying to explain her way out of things, when the smart thing to do would be to just shut her mouth. This time, though, she must have sensed the level of her father’s anger, because she cut her sentence short.
    I watched as LC closed his hand into a fist. I had no doubt what his next action would be, so I acted fast. “This is not the time or place,” I reminded him through clenched jaws. He shifted his eyes in my direction, and I saw that cold stare he got when he was about to explode. “Remember where you are,” I continued calmly. “This is a police station.”
    He glanced around, then nodded as if I’d brought him out of a hypnotic trance. Paris had just