Zander wasn’t comfortable talking to another attorney about the scam connecting him to Unger and the Zaterelli family. So, instead of mentioning any names, connecting him in any way to Mark Unger or the crime family, he spoke about the shell companies and private investors that he wasn’t at liberty to discuss. Attorney-client privilege worked for other high-profile lawyers and law firms, so why not Melton’s?

“Mr. Melton, I understand you need to speak about a pressing matter concerning a few of your clients and their less-than-ethical business practices.”

“Less than ethical implies they are conducting illegal activities. Let me be clear. I did not say unethical. I did not say less than ethical. You did. I made it very clear their businesses practiced questionable activities and investments. Not unethical or less than ethical. Just to be clear.” Melton knew his way around words, knew his way to loop around and keep himself free of any implications. This was one of his ways of doing it. The other way was writing briefs so steeped in legal jargon that a layperson couldn’t understand a word of what was written. Most judges wouldn’t be able to understand it either, leaving it at their discretion to have it explained by counsel in the courtroom. That’s how Zander won a majority of his cases. Most judges, having served as litigators, knew this trick and hated it as much as the attorneys writing the briefs. But it was part of the process, and you had to trust it. Even if that meant having the most basic legalese spoonfed to you.

“Fine. I get it, Zander. You don’t want to talk about it, right?”

Zander didn’t move, not answering his attorney, Anita Denger.

“Zander, the documents are all drawn up. You can’t be asked about the businesses, the investors, or their transactions. Likewise, the court cannot compel you to answer any question that could implicate the businesses, investors, or their transactions. It’s genius, really. How did you figure all this out?”

“Grisham novels.”

“Yeah, right.” Anita rolled her eyes. “Can’t you be serious for a minute? What happens if these ‘guys’ decide to come after you? What then?”

“I die.” Zander played an invisible set of drums, pa-dum-dum-hiss, hitting the invisible cymbal last. “Anita, this? All of this? It’s all a contingency plan. If I’m subpoenaed, then this, right here? This is my trump card,” he said, shaking the signed documents. “It means I keep everything. And I don’t know anything. Even on paper.”

Anita shook her head. “Zander, you are out of your mind! Do you know what they do to people like you? Cut off your . . .”

“Okay, Anita. We’re done here.”

Zander stood up, ready to walk out of the conference room of Anita’s law firm. Zander and Denger met in court on a few separate occasions, and she fought him well, almost beating him out. Lucky for him, the judge on the bench didn’t care for her much, his only saving grace. Zander was thankful the judge sided with him, the lesser of two evils. She always had a better case, and he knew it. But if you needed a defense attorney with a solid winning track record? She was your woman.

Anita took a deep breath. “I hope you live to see the end of this,” Anita sighed, opening the door for Zander, who didn’t bother to turn around, walking straight to the elevators.