"I don't know," Joe replied. "I don't know what this woman is doing, but she definitely knows what she's doing. She's trying to destroy you. Anything else, ma'am, that you want to tell me?"

Deborah wiped her nose with a tissue. "Yes. I think it's very important that she had a financial transaction in the nearest drugstore from 3 to 3:30 pm, buying an inhaler for her husband, Mr. Woods, who was having an asthma attack. She had her handbag with her. If something was missing from her bag, why didn't she tell you about it at the time?"

"I don't know," Joe said. "And I would ask her a couple of questions. What items of jewelry were missing? Can she present photographs of her jewelry? You said that people from the Carolinas Institute had been moving the furniture. How many of them? Who was moving the furniture? Why didn't Mrs. Woods notify the police?"

"I found out," Deborah replied, "that Gamma Woods contacted everybody in our local office and in the head office and told people that her money and expensive jewelry had disappeared from her handbag while I was in the office. Last week everybody was talking about it. It's like a slap in my face. I never took even a match from anybody. It's simply not me. I can't work, I can't concentrate. I feel I should quit, but I have waited for this job for so long. I have bills to pay. I have to put food on the table." Deborah blew her nose. "Please, help me. I have to sue this woman. She wants me to be fired because I took over her position."

"It's a terrible way to keep your job," Joe muttered and lit up a cigarette. He was lounging in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "How long has she been working there? Gamma Woods… Right?"

"Right." Debbie nodded solemnly. "She has been working there for twenty years. She is a Philippine woman who came to this country about twenty years ago. I don't think she has as good an education as I do, but she has got tons of experience. She knows exactly what this job needs."

"Why was she getting removed?" I asked, still a little stunned by Joe calling me his `assistant.' Until now, he hadn't called me anything but `nincompoop.'

"I don't know the real reason," Debbie responded. "She seems very well fit for this place."

"She definitely sounds so," Joe laughed, and then coughed. "You, ninc…, I mean Rachel! What would you do if you worked for twenty years for a company, and then got replaced and even fired?"

"I would cry," I said after a brief consideration. I never worked over six months in one place, but I didn't want Joe to know that.

"Well, Gamma made somebody else cry. Deborah, this is my little scenario for you for the next two weeks. In a couple of weeks, they will fire you for something, for anything: using too much toilet paper, having blue eyes, being right-handed or wearing gray business skirts." Joe puffed his Newport.

"No, they can't fire me. I'm a very good worker. I have great education and experience." Debbie started sobbing, this time becoming angry with the attorney she decided to hire. Honestly, I felt like throwing my shoe at the guy.

Joe just smiled. "They can, and they will. Babe, what poked you in the eye to take a job for a Philadelphia company? You live in New Jersey, so get work in New Jersey. Go and work for your kids' school district. You will be around them. You can always take a day off; you know all the news. You're a single mom! Leave the corporate world to bitches like Gamma Woods. Pennsylvania is an At Will state. Employers have all the rights there. They can fire you at any time for any reason at all, and you can't sue them for that. But there's something else here. Seems to me you've got in the middle of something. You want to sue them? Let's sue them! File a libel, slander and defamation of character lawsuit. Are they a corporation?"

"Yes, they receive government money for working with immigrants. It's a big corporation. I actually found it very bizarre the way they treat refugees. They have this interoffice code, and they call their immigrant clients `moo-moos'."

"I like that. I truly do." Joe frowned. "Let's sue them for a couple of million dollars. You'll get a half million-dollar settlement, buy a new house and start working for your local school district."

Joe pulled a pile of paper out of his drawer and offered Debbie an agreement to sign. She even smiled, listening to his intense speech. I heard him once in court arguing on my behalf and knew that he could be loud and eloquent in defending his clients.

Walking her to her car, I promised Debbie that everything would be great. She grabbed my hand. "I'm so glad you're a woman. You can understand me; how terrible this is! First divorce, then this… I try to do everything I can for my children, but I have to work and pay bills. I don't understand why I must suffer so much. Please, work on my case. This woman is evil."

I promised her to do everything in my power and returned to the office. Joe was sitting in the kitchen, munching on sandwiches.

"So? Why did you call me your assistant? This poor woman really hopes we will work on her case."

"So? Do you believe she is not a thief?" He had this horrible habit of giving you a question for an answer.

"I believe her. She's a single mom, and she needed this job desperately. The other woman was losing her job. They wanted her out after twenty years. It's not good either, but Debbie has nothing to do with it."

"Are you sure?" Joe looked at me with his impossible black eyes. "What if Debbie had a relationship with their boss? What if they're lovers? You're a nincompoop. Somewhere, somehow, there is a reason she got into this situation. If we find the reason, we find the best way to defend her in court. Now you, young lady, just look for this reason."

"Me?"

"Who else? Not me, thank you very much. I'm staying in my office because I've got other stuff to do. Some very urgent and important stuff. If you like her, if you like this case, be my assistant. Interview her co-workers, take depositions, arrange a polygraph test for her. If she doesn't flunk it, we will take her case to court. They bid for federal money, they need a squeaky-clean reputation. And in this case, their reputation won't be so squeaky-clean anymore."

Getting outside, I squinted at the shiny spring afternoon. I thought it could happen only to a book character, to have your life completely overturned in a moment. This morning I didn't know what to do and felt useless while my life was slipping through my fingers. My husband worked day and night looking for war criminals and defending their victims. My daughters opposed my slightest attempt to mother them. My house was cleaned, and food cooked by somebody who was making a living out of my laziness. Suddenly, it all started to make sense because I realized what I should be doing my entire life. I would be a lawsuit investigator! I would gather all the bits and pieces of information that would constitute our victory over evil.

Angels blew their trumpets, it was my life calling, I knew that.

"I'm a lawsuit detective," I repeated to myself over and over again, driving home. I felt a sharp intense energy boiling inside of me. "I'll become the damn best lawsuit detective ever." Since it was almost four in the afternoon, I decided to start my investigation right after dinner.

The monkey see, monkey do principle would be the best way to describe my way of life until this point. I have always been worried about my future. I felt terminally ill most of the time. I always hoped to end up with a bigger paycheck and a balance of my long-term investments. And always, I was taking on new relationships and new jobs with the mad enthusiasm of somebody who has never been beaten and never been abandoned.