Longhorn Law

by Dave Daren

  I waited. A minute passed, and I glanced down at the heavy watch on my wrist. I hadn’t mistaken the time, I knew that much. Maybe she’d sent me the wrong address? I chewed at the inside of my cheek and glanced over my shoulder. No one had ventured outside to correct me yet, nor was anyone outside to ask for help, so I turned back toward the door and resigned myself to having to knock again.

  As I raised my hand, however, I heard the deadbolt click. Then the door swung open, and I took a moment to take in the woman before me.

  Clara Shepard couldn’t have been taller than 5’7, and her auburn hair hung down her back in a sloppy braid, clearly more functional than fashionable, with a few stray strands loose around her face. She wore a pair of dark-blue scrubs that made the amber of her wide eyes stand out in stark contrast, but despite the obvious dark circles under her eyes, she was shockingly pretty.

  I hadn’t been able to tell that over the phone.

  “You’re Archer Landon, then?” she asked with a faint drawl in her voice.

  I hadn’t quite caught that on the phone, either, but I shook the thought away as I gave a nod and a respectful tilt of my head.

  “Yes, and that means you’re Clara Shepard,” I countered as I offered a smile.

  “Yes, thank you for coming.” Some of the tension in her shoulders loosened, but she still held the doorknob with her other hand braced against the frame. Then she seemed to realize she was blocking the entryway, so she took a small step back and gave a little wave of her hand to usher me in. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I ducked to avoid the long, dangling windchimes hanging just above the frame of the door.

  Behind me, I heard Clara lock the door once again, and then she stepped out in front of me and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears.

  “Sorry if I still smell like a hospital, I just finished my shift and didn’t quite have time to change. You want anything to drink?” She didn’t seem to be giving herself much time to breathe between sentences as she started down the hallway.

  I waited a moment, as if she’d give me instructions, before I shrugged to myself and followed after her. The house was small, a little crowded, but clearly well-loved and looked after. I saw plenty of fresh flowers and even more toys scattered around as I followed Clara into the kitchen, and the walls were a perky yellow that looked like it hadn’t been touched since the seventies.

  “I wouldn’t mind water, if that’s doable,” I said. There wasn’t anywhere to sit in the little kitchen, so I leaned my back against one of the cleared counters. It looked and smelled like she’d just cleaned. Like bleach and lemons.

  Clara gave a little nod as she raised her thumb to her lip to worry at the nail for a moment. It looked as if she’d already chewed them all to the quick, but she caught my eyes and quickly dropped her hand down as if she hadn’t been aware of what she was doing.

  “It’ll have to be a bottle. We don’t drink from the tap anymore, if we can help it.” She glanced over toward the sink, and I followed her gaze. True to her word, a plastic grocery bag had been taped around the faucet.

  Clara pulled open the refrigerator door before taking out a bottle of water. She stretched out her arm to bridge the narrow gap in the kitchen to hand me the bottle, and it felt nice and cool in my palm.

  “Thank you.” I nodded my gratitude again.

  I cracked the lid and took a small sip, but I hadn’t even realized how thirsty I’d been, so I drained half of it before I set the bottle on the counter to my side.

  “You said ‘we’, so is there a Mr. Shepard in the picture?” I asked while I pulled a small, spiral bound notepad from my back pocket and tugged the pen from where I’d secured it between the spirals.

  Clara flashed me with a hard to decipher look as she leaned against the counter across from me, but she answered with a hard shake of her head.

  “It’s just my daughter and I. Emma, she just turned nine.” Clara scratched at her cheek and turned her eyes to her feet for a moment, like she was gathering her thoughts. “She spent her birthday in the hospital.”

  I frowned, and my pen stilled over my notepad. “What happened?”

  The redhead looked back up at me with a sort of desperate sadness in her eyes. “The chemical plant happened. Last year, Emma started to get sick. Her doctor assured me it was nothing serious, but I’m an E.R. nurse at a children’s hospital I’m--” She paused, as if collecting herself, and I could hear the anger creeping into her tone. “I’m not just some worried mother who can’t handle her child having a case of the sniffles.”

  I didn’t speak, didn’t want to interrupt, so I simply nodded and urged her to continue as I jotted down notes.

  “So, I took her to another doctor and then another doctor and then a specialist, and it turns out my perfectly healthy daughter developed acute leukemia,” Clara ground out the words. She bounced her leg in obvious agitation, and then she took a drink of her water like she wished it was something else.

  The words acute leukemia felt like a punch to my gut.

  “Leukemia,” I repeated, as if I could have somehow misheard her, but she looked at me like I’d just encapsulated everything she felt in a single word.

  “Leukemia,” she spat the word and gave a shake of her head. “Fucking leukemia. So, I start asking around the neighborhood. ‘Has anyone else ever experienced this’? And I wasn’t looking for some sort of answer, I just…” She trailed off and rubbed her palms over her face. “I just wanted some sort of comfort. We’re all real close around here, practically family. Mrs. Jenkins next door practically helped me raise Emma when I was working nights at the hospital.”

  I jotted down words “acute leukemia” before looking back up at Clara, but she shook her head and gave a soft, bitter laugh.

  “Would you believe eight separate families in the neighborhood have had someone develop cancer in the last two years?” she asked me, and her melodic voice was low.

  My jaw dropped open, and it felt as though the other shoe had dropped. Nearly a fifth of the neighborhood had developed cancer in two years? I wasn’t a man of statistics, but even I knew that the number was shockingly high.

  “Eight?” I asked her. I was horrified and almost couldn’t believe it at the same time. “Eight families?”

  Clara nodded and folded her arms across her waist. “Nine, really, if you count Emma. The best I can figure is it’s got something to do with that chemical plant. Which, well, that’s why I need your help.” She straightened up and dropped her arms to her sides. “I want to sue-- the neighborhood wants to sue. I’m barely able to keep this place paid for with all the hours I work at the hospital, not to mention Emma’s bills I just…”

  I swallowed. “Ms. Shepard--”

  “Clara,” she corrected.

  “Clara,” I amended with a sigh and struggled for words for a moment. I wanted to help her, maybe more than I’d wanted to help anyone else. I don’t know if it was the way she held her chin up despite how exhausted she clearly was, or the fact her daughter had just lost her childhood to a disease she never should have gotten, but I knew I needed to help them however I could.

  “Class action law isn’t my specialty,” I began as I tried to choose my words carefully. “I don’t know if I’m the best person for you right now. I can find someone, though, a good attorney in the area that specializes in class action suits,” I tried to explain. I couldn’t just leave her without help, but I wasn’t even sure what all I could do.

  I didn’t bother to tell her that the specialty was just the first hurdle. Even if everyone in the neighborhood combined funds, the fees alone would remain astronomical. Fighting a titan like Knox took more than one man alone.

  There were plenty of good law firms in the area. Surely, one of them would be willing to take on a case like this. The good press alone would be enough for most places. I might even be able to get a decent referral fee if they decided to take the case, just enough to keep the lights on. I made
a quick scribble in my notepad of a few firms I knew off the top of my head before Clara caught my attention again.

  She gave a bitter laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “Do you think I haven’t called other lawyers?” Her voice was soft as she spoke, like she was talking to a child or someone else that completely lacked sense. If I didn’t understand her situation, I might have been insulted.

  I felt my stomach churn as I met her gaze. “Maybe,” I began again. “Maybe we should try to reach farther out, somewhere outside the city where Knox has less of an influence.”

  I had barely finished my sentence before Clara spoke again. “No one will touch us, Archer. They can’t afford it. Or they...or they can’t risk going against Knox. They always have some neat little reason that they’re okay with letting kids like my daughter-” Clara cut herself off as she raised her hand up with her palm toward me. I watched as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Her amber eyes were wide, her lips parted, and I could see her fumbling for some sort of composure. She didn’t look at me as she blinked a few times and took a few breaths. When she did meet my eyes again, she looked at me like I was her last chance.

  I had to help her.

  “I’m going to do what I can for you, you have my word on that. I’ll… I’ll see if anyone in the area is willing to give me co-counsel,” I promised her as I set down my notepad and reached up to rub my chin.

  She sagged. “They’re going to tell you the same thing they told me,” she said. Clara didn’t need to tell me what the firms had said for me to make an educated guess that it probably wasn’t too nice.

  “Thank you, really. I’m sorry for making you come all the way out here for nothing,” Clara murmured as she looked down at her hands. She picked at the label on the water bottle and peeled at the thin paper.

  “No, no, don’t be sorry.” I slid my notepad back into my pocket and straightened up. “If they don’t agree to help me, I’ll do it myself.” I wasn’t going to let myself be the sort of man that let innocent people suffer when there was something I could do. “I can’t promise it will be quick or easy, but… you can count on me with this, alright, Clara? You and Emma and everyone else in Piney Crest.”

  Clara’s lips parted again as she looked up at me once more. “You will?” Her words came out practically like a whisper.

  I offered as reassuring of a smile as I could manage as I nodded. “I will. I’ll keep you updated, alright? I’ll be in touch soon.” I didn’t ask her to see me out. Instead, I just gave her a curt nod, grabbed my water bottle, and made my way back out to the car, and I barely managed to dodge the windchimes as I pulled the front door shut behind me.

  A few clouds had blessedly drifted over the sun and offered a moment of shade, and I paused at the driver’s side door, with my fingers resting on the handle. A strange smell had caught on the wind, and I took a deep inhale through my nose and recoiled.

  “Ugh,” I grumbled.

  I couldn’t place the scent, but I knew it couldn’t be natural. Now I understood why Clara had so many fresh flowers inside, and I wrinkled my nose before sliding into my car. Then I slid the key into the ignition and listened to the engine turn over. As I put the car into reverse, I saw the blinds move for just a moment and caught a flashing glimpse of a small face in the window, but the blinds swung shut again before I could get a decent look at who I could only assume was Emma.

  I drove back to my office in silence as my mind reeled. I knew of a few good firms in the area, and surely one of them would be willing to help me help Piney Crest.

  It was nearly time for dinner when I finally pulled into my usual parking space outside of my office. It looked as though Hazel had closed the bakery early, which meant I was on my own to find something to eat. As I made my way into the office, I resigned myself to takeout for the fourth time in the last seven days. If it weren’t for my morning runs, I was certain my suits would have stopped fitting after all the junk I’d been eating.

  I placed an order on the website for a nearby diner before sinking into my chair to settle in for a long night of calling around to every lawyer I’d ever met.

  By the time I’d finished my country fried steak, I’d been told by three separate firms to buzz off. Sure, they sympathized with the poor people of Piney Crest, but they couldn’t take a case like that on contingency, was I crazy? It was around the point I’d resigned myself to trying to call Martin for a lead when my cell phone rang.

  It was yet another unknown number. Had Abby given it out to someone else?

  “Hello, this is Archer,” I answered.

  “Archer Landon?” a deep, southern voice questioned from the other end of the line, and whoever it was sounded like a cowboy from those old black-and-white movies.

  “Yes? Who is this?”

  “I’m the answer to your prayers.”

  Chapter 2

  My mouth fell open in surprise and, well, confusion. What did he mean? Who was this and what interest could he have in Piney Crest?

  “The name’s Samuel Higgins,” the man continued before I could even get the question out.

  That’s when it clicked. I recognized his voice from the few times I’d seen him pop up on the news. He didn’t just sound like a cowboy from one of those old black-and-white movies, he looked like one, too.

  “Of Higgins Oil Manufacturing?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I felt like I was in some sort of dream state. I’d never interacted with one oil company, much less two in the span of the same day.

  Over the line, I heard Higgins give a deep, belly laugh before he spoke again.

  “The very same. Now, Archer. I can call you Archer, can’t I? I’m not exactly the formal sort, I hope you don’t mind.” Higgins spoke with the sort of intensity a person would never quite notice at first because of the ‘aw shucks’ element, but I realized I’d sat up straighter as he talked. He seemed like the sort of man used to respect.

  I shifted forward to plant my elbows on my desk. “Of course-” I barely managed to give my reassurance before he continued again.

  “I’ve gotten wind of your… troubles,” he said. He put plenty of emphasis on the word ‘troubles’, and I felt my brow furrow as I tried to imagine how he’d heard anything about me. “Finding a good lawyer is certainly hard to do nowadays. But I’ve had some idea as to what’s been happening in their little neighborhood for some time now.”

  “You know what’s been happening in Piney Crest,” I repeated.

  It wasn’t a question. I was surprised, though, but somehow, it all made sense. If an oil company caused problems in the area, it made sense that their competitor would have some sort of inkling about it.

  I pulled over the small pad of paper I kept on my desk, snagged a pen from one of my drawers, and quickly jotted down Samuel Higgins and Higgins Oil Manufacturing??

  Samuel gave another one of his deep belly laughs, though it sounded less pleasant.

  “I do indeed,” he assured me. “And I’ve felt real awful about what’s been happening to those poor, hard working people.” On the other end of the line, I heard a creak, as if he’d leaned back in a chair.

  I bit my lower lip and tapped my pen against my desktop. I still couldn’t quite figure out why he’d called.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Higgins, but I don’t quite think I understand why you called,” I finally said. “Your plant isn’t anywhere near the neighborhood. You’re not the one causing the problems.”

  I heard another creak on the line, and I could imagine him swiveling around to gaze out a window.

  “But I’d sure like to be the one to fix it,” he replied. “I know you’ve been hunting around for a law firm to help you take on their little case. How about you just do it yourself?”

  He tried to make it sound like a question, but it sounded more like a command. It was like a bomb had been dropped into my lap, and I couldn’t decide what to do. Samuel stayed silent as I searched for a response.

&n
bsp; “I’m trying, but I can’t find any sort of co-counsel,” I explained once I found my words again. “And even if I found someone, there’s no guarantee they’d take what I could offer to pay them.”

  “But I’d like to help,” Samuel said. “Not a blank check, of course. But a little money, just enough to help you get the ball rolling. Those people need someone to take their side, and you seem like a good man for the job.”

  I nearly dropped my pen and it took me a moment to process what he’d said to me. I opened my mouth and then closed it as I worked through the reasons he might have for his offer. I heard his chair squeak again, and I quickly cleared my throat.

  “I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you,” I stammered out while I continued to struggle for my composure. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he was the answer to my prayers.

  Samuel laughed again. His laugh was the kind that made it hard to tell if he was laughing with me or at me. But considering he’d just offered to pay me to take on Clara’s case, he could laugh at me all he wanted.

  “You just have to say yes, son,” Samuel said. “Consider it a favor. I’ll have my secretary drop off a check to Landon Legal in the morning. And Archer, let’s keep this between us. I don’t need the press pawing around in my charity work. Now, you get some rest, you hear?”

  The line went dead before I could respond, so I lowered my phone, stuck in some sort of strange fugue state. I took a moment to process everything he’d said to me, though I practically heard his words echo around in my mind. I rubbed my hand over my mouth and shook my head, then realized that I had a case.

  When I finally returned to my senses, I sent off a message to Clara like I had promised. The little digital clock at the top of my screen read “10:47.” I didn’t know where the entire day had gone, but I knew Samuel was right. I needed to get some rest because tomorrow was going to be an even bigger day.