Read Murder on the Down Low for Free Online Page B

cases. He was smart, persuasive, and fast on his feet. When it came to women, though, he was a complete imbecile. He couldn’t spell romance, and
cheap
should have been his middle name.
    Unfortunately, Nichelle had made the mistake of sleeping with him, and their relationship had never been the same. Her mother’s words still reverberated in her head every time she remembered their disastrous three months together.
Never sleep where you eat.
    Sam sloshed into the room carrying a folder sloppily stuffed with papers.
    “Hey, everybody.” He squeezed into a chair that was not intended to accommodate a man his size.
    Before their little tryst, Sam had always greeted her by name, stretching out both syllables like it was poetry. Now, he only spoke to her when necessary and never by name. Nichelle doubted he would be treating her this way if
he
had dumped
her
. So far, Russell didn’t know about their little fling and she was thankful for that.
    “Okay, let’s get started,” Sam said.
    “As I was about to tell Russell,” Nichelle began, “I have a wrongful death case that I want to take on contingency.”
    Sam glowered at her. “You don’t even litigate anymore. And you barely billed thirty hours a week over the past couple of months.”
    Nichelle reminded herself to stay calm. “Sam, you know my friend, Maya, was ill and I—”
    “Yeah, yeah, I know all that. And I don’t mean to be unsympathetic, but you need to find some paying clients. This
is
a business.”
    “C’mon, Sam,” Russell prodded. “Let’s hear about the case first.”
    Nichelle focused her attention on Russell. “I want to file a lawsuit against Eugene Nelson.”
    Sam scowled at her. “Who’s Eugene Nelson? And you better be getting a retainer large enough to cover all the court costs.”
    “I’ll be paying the court costs from my personal funds.” Nichelle paused, knowing her next words would be met with staunch resistance. “Eugene Nelson was the fiancé of my friend, Maya. He’s the one who infected her.”
    “You have to be kidding!” Sam pushed his chair back from the table with a loud screech. “You’re not using this firm to play a game of female revenge against this guy. That case’ll be kicked in a week.”
    Russell remained quiet, which usually meant he agreed with Sam.
    “Just hear me out,” Nichelle said. “I think this case will lead to future work and perhaps a whole new practice area for me. Take a look at this.” She slid two sheets of paper across the table.
    Russell started reading his copy. Sam ignored his.
    “According to the Centers for Disease Control, HIV infection is the leading cause of death for African-American women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-four,” she said. “And believe it or not, the rate of AIDS diagnosis for African-American women is
twenty-three
times the rate for white women.”
    She handed them a copy of a
Newsweek
article with more disturbing stats. Sam ignored this one, too. “The majority of these women are contracting HIV from heterosexual sex.”
    “Are these numbers actually true?” Russell asked, as he picked up the
Newsweek
article.
    “Yep. It’s scary, isn’t it?”
    “You’re darn straight. I have three daughters.”
    “More than a million people are living with HIV in the U.S. and nearly half of them are African-Americans. And it’s estimated that a quarter of a million people are infected but don’t even know it.”
    “Just tell me one thing,” Sam snarled. “How is this going to bring in some billable work?”
    “Just hear me out, Sam. This next document,” she slid another page toward them, “is an article from the
New York Post
about a woman who won a two-million-dollar verdict against the man who infected her.”
    “And how much of that award did she actually collect?” Sam scoffed. “I don’t even have to read the story to tell you. Zero. She got squat, because the guy probably didn’t have a dime to begin with and if he did, he more