I flipped the card over in my hand. “But Czar? You’re not ruling Russia and it is now post-revolution.”
His cheeks looked like ripe apples and delight buzzed in his eyes. “Czar also describes someone who has great power or authority. I rule this reception area and your schedules, you know. I’ve always wanted to be a Czar.”
Well, okay. I had enough to worry about. If Oliver and Pauley wanted to be Czars and Kings, why not? “Has Clark seen these?”
“Not yet,” Oliver said.
“Make sure I’m out of the office when he does.” I motioned to Kurt. “We have an empty office if you’d like to take it and do whatever you do in it.” I led him through the door and bypassed Clark’s office since he had a couple of clients in there before walking past the conference rooms, restrooms, and to the twin offices across the hall from each other. It looked like Pauley had more than moved into the one closest to my office.
He looked up from a new desk. “Kings should have offices. My father gave me the desk from his basement.” His schoolbooks were neatly stacked in one corner.
“Cool.” I turned to the other office, which now held Nana O’Shea’s old card table. “Kurt, we can probably find you a desk, but for now, all we have is the table.”
“Works for me,” Kurt said. “I have my cell phone and have a bunch of phone calls to make. Could I borrow paper and pens? Where’s the supply closet?”
I motioned for him to follow me. “Right between my office and the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you need in either place. We still have a bunch of goodies from our office opening, including some huckleberry cookies from my mom. They’re excellent.”
Kurt nearly tripped over the dog. “Cookies? I may never leave.”
“Then you’ll need a better title than P.I.,” I retorted. “King and Czar are taken, though.” Clark wasn’t going to love those business cards, but I’d deal with that situation later. I took my seat and spent an hour hammering out the Last Will and Testament for Mr. McLerrison and then made some notes on a timber trespass case I’d taken.
My phone dinged. “Yes, Czar?” I answered, still typing.
“A Miss Walker is here to see you,” Oliver said. “Shall I bring her back?” Apparently Czars used words like ‘shall.’
“That would be lovely,” I retorted in the worst British accent ever. Why was Kelsey at my office? I looked at the calendar to make sure I hadn’t goofed up.
They reached my door and I stood. “Hi, Kelsey. Your hearing isn’t until this afternoon.”
She looked pale in a light pink dress. “I know. I was hoping we could talk.”
Was I about to get fired? I couldn’t exactly blame her if she wanted to distance herself from the attorney who kept getting in fights and appearing in the newspaper. “Sure. Do you want anything to drink? We have coffee, soda, and water, but nothing is cold because we don’t have a fridge yet.”
“No, thanks.” She wrung her hands together and stepped inside to take one of my guest chairs.
The Czar kindly shut the door.
I sat. “What’s going on?”
Tears filled her pretty blue eyes. “I don’t know. It’s all so confusing, and I don’t have anybody to talk to. My family is still mad about Krissy killing Danny, and they’ve all scattered. My sisters are all working states away, and now my folks are on a cruise for three months. It’s like they all have just buried their heads and I’m so lost.”
I took a drink of my water. “I understand, but they wouldn’t be much help in your case. None of your family was in town when you and Krissy were at the concert in the park, were they?”
Kelsey shook her head.
“Okay. Then how about we come up with a list of people who can testify on your behalf if necessary?” Sometimes having a project helped when life looked hopeless. “We probably won’t need it, but we can do that.”
“It’s not just my case,” she said, tugging on her skirt to settle it better around her legs.
Pauley knocked on the door.
“Just a sec, Kelsey,” I said. “Come in, P. I mean, King P.”
He opened the door and skirted Kelsey to set a stack of papers on my desk. “From the main printer in the file room. My file room. The King’s file room. Like the Fisher King but not. King of Files.” He didn’t make eye contact and left the room, his movements a little jerky. But he did shut the door.
I gathered the papers into a neat pile, impressed with the heavier bond paper I’d put in the printer for the Last Will and Testament.
“What’s wrong with him?” Kelsey asked.
