CHAPTER EIGHT
Linda and Ariel showed up at my office just ten minutes after I’d gotten off the phone. Ariel was wearing hippy-dippy Birkenstocks again. Linda had an accordion folder tucked under her arm. However, I’d decided to inquire further before doing anything on the case.
“I’m going to ask you a few more questions before you read this over and sign it.” I retrieved the retainer agreement from my printer. “Please take a seat.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Linda asked, as they settled into the guest chairs.
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