Free Hard Stop by Chris Knopf Page B

head and the expensive molding so I wouldn’t ding it when I pulled out the nail. All with one hand. Another lesson on the advisability of coping miter joints properly the first time.
    The phone started ringing again.
    I pulled the nail and lowered the molding safely to the scaffold a few seconds before my left shoulder and challenged temperament both gave up the fight.
    Throwing the phone at the masonry fireplace on the other side of the room would have been the easy thing to do. Instead I answered it.
    “Jesus Christ I said I’d call you back.”
    “Are you alright?” asked Jackie. “You sound terrible.”
    “From now on I’m leaving this thing in the car.”
    “You’re supposed to have it with you at all times. That’s the point. And you can’t get mad at me when I’m doing you a favor.”
    I shook out my shoulders, dropped my jaw and took a deep breath. “I’m not mad. I’m always glad to hear from you, no matter what the circumstances,” I said softly.
    “Especially when I’m calling with interesting information.”
    “Especially. What is it?”
    “George Donovan is getting ready to do what he said he would do. Maybe. The original severance documents were prepared by the general counsel, a guy named Mason Thigpen. What did you do to him?”
    “I’m not sure. I vaguely remember a lot of blood and really big security guards.”
    “Donovan has yanked your agreement out of Thigpen’s office and given it to an outside lawyer, on the basis thatthe general counsel’s interest in this is adverse to the corporation’s.”
    “You lost me at ‘yanked.’”
    “Outside counsel has been retained to examine your agreement and make the necessary modifications, if corporate management deems it appropriate, to allow you to participate in the ongoing settlement of the intellectual property suit brought by a group of plaintiffs. Most of whom worked for you, by the way, a fact Donovan is telling the board warrants some careful consideration.”
    “How the hell did you get all this?”
    “What the hell do they pay administrative assistants and what the hell gender are they, usually?”
    “Can you get a copy of my agreement?” I asked.
    “I thought you had a copy. Silly me.”
    “I did at one point. But it was probably in that car I lost in downtown Bridgeport. Long story.”
    “I don’t want to hear it. My guess is there’s a clause that says for consideration you waive all employment claims, including any compensation beyond the amount of the severance, which includes royalties or the proceeds from civil litigation, which would likely include the intellectual property action. All they have to do is rewrite that clause to specify your agreement doesn’t include settlement money, and because they went to the trouble to be so specific about every other form of payment, you’re in. Of course, somebody could still contest that exclusion, but as you know, everything is contestable by everybody all the time, which is how we in the legal profession like it, thank you very much.”
    “I can think of people who might want to do that.”
    “Contest it?” she asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Not the nice lady who heads up Human Resources. She’s all for it.”
    “You talked to her? Jesus.”
    “I’m your attorney. I’m allowed. They’ve been fielding these inquiries full tilt since the settlement got under way. I made it all sound very routine. I didn’t push anything, just asked simple questions. Nobody got wiggy. Not to worry.”
    “I’m worried about this coming unglued.”
    “I know,” she said. “But I couldn’t do what you wanted me to do without talking to the people who have the information. Next I’m talking to Tucker, Blenheim, the outside counsel, to see what they have to say.”
    I’d seen Jackie in action. If she said it was low key, it was low key. And I knew how isolated and overlooked they were in HR. George Donovan probably couldn’t find their offices without a map of the building. But