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And he thought about Woody, whose brother was in jail and likely to stay there.

He parked his bike at the flagpole and walked into the school halfway through first period. He had a written excuse from his mother, and as he handed it over to Miss Gloria in the front office he noticed that she wasn’t smiling. She always smiled.

“Have a seat, Theo,” she said, nodding to a wooden chair beside her desk.

But why? Theo wondered. It’s just a simple matter of being tardy.

“How was the funeral?” she asked, still unsmiling.

A pause, as Theo tried to understand. “I’m sorry.”

“The funeral last Friday, the one your uncle came here . . .”

“Oh, that funeral. It was great. A real blast.”

She looked around nervously, then tapped her lips with an index finger. Please talk softly, she was saying. There were open office doors nearby.

“Theo,” she almost whispered. “My brother was stopped last night for driving under the influence. They took him to jail.” She rolled her eyes around to make sure they were alone.

“I’m sorry,” Theo said. He knew where this was going.

“He’s not a drunk. He’s a grown man with a wife and kids and a good job. He’s never been in trouble and we just don’t know what to do.”

“What was his BAC?”

“What?”

“His blood alcohol content.”

“Oh, that. Does point zero nine sound right?”

“Yes. The limit is point zero eight, so he’s in trouble. First offense?”

“Why heavens yes, Theo. He’s not a drunk. He barely had two glasses of wine.”

Two drinks. Always two drinks. Regardless of how drunk or how sloppy or how belligerent, they’ve never had more than two drinks.

“The policeman said he could get ten days in jail,” she went on. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Which cop?” Theo asked.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Some of the cops like to scare people. Your brother will not get ten days. He’ll pay a fine of six hundred dollars, lose his license for six months, go to driving school, and a year from now his record can be expunged. Did he spend the entire night in jail?”

“Yes. I can’t imagine . . .”

“Then there’s no more jail time. Write down this name.” She was already holding a pen. “Taylor Baskin,” Theo said. “He’s the lawyer who handles all the drunks . . .”

“He’s not a drunk!” she said, a bit too loud. Both looked around to see if anyone was listening. No one.

“Sorry. Taylor Baskin is the drunk driving lawyer. Your brother needs to call him.”

Miss Gloria was scribbling away.

“I need to get to class,” Theo said.

“Thank you, Theo. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“No problem. Can I go now?”

“Oh, yes, please. And thanks, Theo.”

He scampered out of the office, leaving behind another satisfied client.


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Tags: John Grisham Theodore Boone Mystery