The Spellmans Strike Again Read Free

let him get away with it? Is that what I’m hearing?
ALBERT : This is not a good use of your time, Isabel. In this economy, we should be focusing on keeping our business afloat, not taking anyone down. Besides, we don’t even know if Harkey was behind the audit.
ISABEL : You’re kidding, right? The timing was impeccable. I run into Harkey at the liquor store, suggest that maybe he should watch his back, and the next thing you know the IRS is knocking on our door.
DAVID : Who goes around threatening people like that?
RAE : Isabel loves to threaten people.
ISABEL : Shut up. Back to the audit. Harkey started it, Dad.
ALBERT : Listen, Izzy, business is slow. Do you really want to waste our resources on a witch hunt?
ISABEL : I do. We know he’s crooked. If we can put him out of business, that cuts our competition by about 20 percent.
[Albert shakes his head, still undecided.]
ALBERT : He won’t just roll over, Isabel.
ISABEL : I’m ready for him.
[Olivia whispers in Albert’s ear; Albert nods his head.]
ISABEL : Maggie, is whispering allowed at an official board meeting?
MAGGIE : I don’t take sides with you people.
DAVID : “You people”?
MAGGIE : You know what I mean.
OLIVIA : Okay, we’ll make you a deal, Isabel. You accept now or we shelve this conversation for a later date. One, the Harkey investigation cannot take you away from your regular work, and two, you may not use more than $200 a month in company resources.
ISABEL : Deal.
MAGGIE : Any other orders of business?
DAVID : I hope not.
RAE : One last thing. I request that we never do a group camping trip ever again.
ISABEL : Better than the threatened cruise.
RAE : It’s still torture.
ISABEL : At least you didn’t have someone kicking you all night long and shouting conspiracy theories.
DAVID : If that’s all, I call this meeting to a close.
ALBERT : I wanted to do that.
DAVID : Then go ahead, Dad. It doesn’t actually matter.
ALBERT : Maybe to you it doesn’t.
OLIVIA : Al, enough.
DAVID : [to Maggie] I hope you’re paying attention. Nothing about this morning has been out of the ordinary.
MAGGIE : Relax, David. I’m fine.
ALBERT : As president and CEO of Spellman Investigations, I call this meeting to a close.
RAE : I really do think people can die of boredom.

RULE #22
    Sometime during my employment contract negotiations and the redrafting of the Spellman bylaws (which are hardly as professional as they sound—they’re simply the codes of the family’s personal and work ethics put into writing to prevent arguments at a later date), my mother came up with a new Spellman dictum: the daily rule. It can be written on the whiteboard next to the copy machine by any family member (including David), and so long as no more than two parties object to it at one time, it remains law, punishable by trash duty for the week. 1
    Rule #22—No speaking today!
(Author: Olivia Spellman)
     
    After the excess of quality time on our camping disappearance, we’d all had quite enough of one another and the hum of bickering filled our domestic and office space. My mom wrote the rule on the board the night before and there was not a single veto. We communicated through e-mails, text messages, and the occasional pantomime. Rae suggested that we do this all the time. That suggestion was vetoed, even though typically we don’t veto suggestions.
    My mother sent an e-mail to inform me that in line with me being the new face of Spellman Investigations, she had decided I should take the meeting with one of our repeat clients, Mr. Franklin Winslow, scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Apparently my mother’s primary concern with the meeting was my sartorial choice. My mother made it clear that a dress was in order and wanted to be sure that one still remained in my closet.
    The e-mail was followed by an instant-message exchange:
     
    Olivia: What exactly are you planning on wearing?
    Isabel: Remember that periwinkle bridesmaid’s dress from cousin Sandy’s wedding?
    Olivia: