PALINDROME by Lawrence Kelter

heir was all BS. He came from a
broken home and made his money by tending bar. Fifty grand,
really? “No. I mean, I don’t know . . . I don’t think so.”
    “So who’s putting up 50K in an initial offer
to squash an attempted rape case? Believe me if they’re showing
their cards this early on, they’re prepared to go higher.”
    “It’s really not about the money.”
    “That’s true. Sorry. I have no problem trying
this case. If you want to see Cooper go to prison, then that’s what
we’ll do. They obviously know how strong the case against him
is.”
    “How strong?”
    “ Strong.”
    I thought for a full minute. It was
fifty-nine seconds more than I needed. “I’ll take the money.”

Eight: Living Large
     
    How good does fifty grand feel? It
feels so good it’s ridiculous, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Especially when your existence consists of an incredibly modest
lifestyle with only the bare necessities ever making it into the
shopping cart.
    Gelfman was true to his word. He contacted
the Suffolk County District Attorney’s office and stayed on the
phone until they agreed to drop the criminal charges against
Cooper. I actually waited in his office while the paperwork was
prepared and signed. I left his office with the check in my
purse.
    Yeah, it was that quick.
    Too quick?
    Yeah, maybe too quick.
    My head was still spinning over my newly
found serendipity. I had driven to Gelfman’s office in a
rent-a-wreck and was considering paint colors for a new BMW on the
ride back. Cherry red? Banana yellow? No, nothing that screamed
“look at me”; I needed a color that would not turn heads, perhaps a
metallic sky blue or a gunmetal gray. My life was not exactly the
kind of thing I could shout about. For me, it was low-key all the
way. Okay, a new BMW is not exactly low-key, but there were so many
Bimmers on Long Island that they didn’t really stand out all that
much. Does it sound like I’m rationalizing?
    I had gone into the ladies room down the
corridor from the Legal Aid office and changed back into me. I had
come with “Lexa duds” in my oversized bag and left the office in
shorts and flip-flops. Allie disappeared right after signing the
paperwork and would likely never be seen or heard from again. She
had gotten enough attention and definitely needed to live among the
missing—at least for a while.
    So where had Keith Cooper’s 50K come from?
The mystery of my newfound fortune was eating away at me
relentlessly. If Cooper didn’t have that kind of money, who did?
Who wanted to protect him from a criminal charge so badly they
would pony up fifty large? I found it troubling, and it caused me
to hesitate as I scanned the check into the ATM machine, bringing
my savings balance to $50,321.62. Who parts with that kind of
money?
    I stopped before I got back into the car to
give the old bucket of bolts a final disapproving once-over. It had
served me well from a utilitarian perspective, but aesthetically .
. . it was tough to look at, a mosaic of rust and body filler. The
car sat so low on its springs it bottomed out every time I hit a
driveway. Yeah, definitely, the old clunker had to go.
    I wanted to put my concerns behind me and
enjoy the newly found wealth, so I decided to do something nice for
myself.
    I had been window shopping for a pair of
Bollé sunglasses for the better part of two weeks, and I would be
darned if I wasn’t going to give my debit card a workout. There was
a store in the Smith Haven Mall that carried all of the latest
shades. I had been there before and found a salesgirl there that
was very friendly despite knowing that I was not a serious shopper.
I figured that she deserved the sale.
    The shades were still on display in the
store’s window, and the same salesgirl was waiting for me behind
the counter. It was her lucky day.
    “They look awesome on you,” she said. “I knew
you’d be back for them.”
    The shades were also featured on a counter
stand, and the model