In this excerpt of the as-yet-unnamed Riley Russell Mysteries Book 2, we catch up with Riley as she’s about to meet her newest client, the CEO of PRx Laboratories. And it would seem there’s more to this new case than initially meets the eye.

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The woman striding up the walk to Harrington & Malloy’s front door at precisely ten o’clock Tuesday morning could only be Fabulous Fannie Fierstein. The upturned collar of a double-breasted gray cashmere Burberry trench stylishly beat back the autumn chill. She was easily five-foot-twelve in her gray suede boots—Manolo Blahniks, if I had to guess. Her lustrous coppery hair wound into an elegant chignon at the nape of her swan-like neck. And the man with the briefcase accompanying her…well, who knew George Clooney’s twin brother lived right here in New Jersey? Life just isn’t fair, I told myself. Like I needed a reminder.

I hastily straightened the piles of paper on the library table, anchoring each with one of the law books lying nearby, and returned a bulging box of PRx materials to its place on the floor. Using my snoozing laptop screen as an impromptu mirror, I gave my lips a quick swipe of tinted lip gloss then snapped it shut. Shoulders thrust back, I pulled myself up to my full five-foot-four-inch height (counting my two-inch heels) and, as coolly as I could manage, strolled out to the reception area to greet the client whose case was going to help put my business on the map.

“Dr. Fierstein? Riley Russell.” I extended my hand, mortified to realize the remnants of last week’s nail polish decorated the tips of my fingers like so much old confetti. “Pleased to meet you.”

Her hand was soft, but her handshake firm. Nails, of course, perfect. “The pleasure is mine.” Gesturing toward the Clooney clone, she said, “I’d like you to meet Lloyd Spencer, General Counsel for PRx.”

Lloyd was so strikingly handsome I had to concentrate on not staring. He smiled and shook my hand as we exchanged greetings, his delivered in a charming British accent. “This way, please,” I said, motioning toward the library across the wide flagstone entry.

As they took their seats at the table, we exchanged business cards. I proceeded to pour hot beverages—tea for Lloyd, coffee for Fannie and myself. I began by explaining my role as the paralegal who would be assisting Bill Harrington on the case.

Opening my litigation file, I addressed Dr. Fierstein. “As Bill mentioned to you, the judge has ruled against our Motion to Dismiss, meaning the lawsuit will go forward. DeWitt/Lauerbach Pharmaceuticals alleges in its Complaint that Dr. Peter Ruben, their recently fired Senior VP for Regulatory Affairs, provided confidential information, including regulatory status of drugs as well as information on the development of their newest Parkinson’s drug, to you over a period of eighteen months.”

“Which is positively absurd,” Dr. Fierstein said. “I don’t even know Dr. Ruben. Well, I mean, except in passing, through professional associations and conferences and such. Isn’t that right, Lloyd?”

Lloyd gave a single nod of agreement but said nothing.

Dr. Fierstein continued. “Our focus must be on proving that DeWitt is the culprit here, not PRx. The fact that their new product is so nearly identical to ours is proof enough that something is amiss. They’ve obviously stolen my life’s work!”

“I understand that this lawsuit is a devastating blow not only to PRx but to you personally. Despite what we may believe to be true, we have a legal burden of proof that must be met in order to show that PRx is the victim of the patent infringement, not the perpetrator.”

Fannie drew her lips into a straight line and narrowed her eyes.

“To that end,” I continued, “we’ve hired a computer forensics expert, Mr. Jonah Daniels, to examine PRx’s computer network and all internal and external communications so that we can prepare our response to the Complaint. His investigation is just getting started, but I have to ask: Is there any chance he could find—”

“Certainly not. I had my assistant ship copies of every pertinent record.” Dr. Fierstein waved toward the boxes piled in the corner. “It’s all there, in those files.”

My eyes followed her gesture then returned to her face. “Of course.” With the shape those so-called files were in, it’d take the rest of my career to find all the back-up material I would need to support our Answer and Counterclaims. We’d have to talk about that later.

I turned to Lloyd, seated across the table at Fannie’s left. “Mr. Spencer, as General Counsel, will you be taking an active role in this matter?”

Spencer looked startled to hear his name, like his mind had been elsewhere. “I don’t, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’ve simply been helping Fannie—Dr. Fierstein—determine which items are relevant and which are not.”

“I see. Wonderful.” There was nothing wonderful, of course, about the mishmash of documents dumped on our doorstep, as it were, but what could I say?

“And Dr. Fierstein, just to clarify, your relationship with Dr. Ruben then—”

Dr. Fierstein sighed heavily, as if she’d been asked to explain the internal combustion engine to a child. “Peter Ruben and I met briefly at an industry conference two years ago, where he was part of a panel discussion on…I don’t even remember what after all this time. That is the extent of any relationship.”

“And you haven’t had any contact with him since that conference?”

“Well, perhaps we’ve been at some of the same industry events since then. Could we have greeted one another here or there? I suppose so. But, if so, it would have been in passing. I barely know the man.”

“Mr. Spencer, are you acquainted with Dr. Ruben at all?”

“Me? I’ve never met the man. Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to cover all the bases,” I said.

“Dr. Fierstein, do you know of anyone else at PRx that might be acquainted with Dr. Ruben?”

After a brief moment of pondering the question, she answered, “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m sure if there’s a connection somewhere, Mr. Daniels will uncover it,” I said.

Spencer and Fierstein exchanged a brief glance without changing expression.

Over the next hour I enlisted their help in determining which boxes would be the best starting point for my own research.
Once we had dug through the last of the boxes, Dr. Fierstein smiled approvingly at the piles of file folders and loose documents now covering virtually every inch of the library conference table. “Is there anything else we need to discuss today, Ms. Russell?”

“I think we’ve covered all we can for now,” I said, eying the mess with a sense of overwhelm. “I’ll be in touch.”

I thanked them, and we said our goodbyes.

Oy vey.

I’d love to have your feedback in the comments section. Are you intrigued? What do you think Fannie and Lloyd could be hiding?