by Dave Daren
Brody gave a firm shake of his head, tucked his chin to acknowledge me, and then gently tugged the remote from my hand. He flicked off the television and tossed the remote back onto the couch. Together, we started off toward the front door. I watched as Brody grabbed an expensive-looking cowboy hat from a peg in the wall next to the coat rack.
He reached up and gave an easy flick of his wrist to secure the hat onto his head. He flicked the brim to nudge the hat up out of his line of sight before he looked over at me, a small, almost smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
“Well, what are we waiting for, partner?” he declared. “We’ve got some sons of bitches to take down.”
Chapter 3
My shoebox of an office never felt smaller than with Brody and Evelyn crowded around my desk in the spare two chairs I kept sitting out for clients.
Brody had co-opted my unused coat rack as his own personal hat rack, and the look he’d given me when I suggested he put his hat elsewhere had put a firm end to that subject.
After we’d arrived back, I’d taken the time to quickly type up the list of names and contact information that Clara had been so kind as to text me before sending it on to the well-used inkjet printer I kept on the filing cabinet in my storage closet.
Evelyn, Brody, and I then hunched over my desk as we sorted through the stack of names.
“Now, all these are the people that’ve gotten sick?” Brody questioned.
He chewed the end of the flimsy pen I’d given him with the focus someone else might have given to chewing tobacco and cut his eyes to the stack just in front of my hand as he spoke.
I nodded and then sighed as I glanced at the pages as well.
There were twenty-four residences in the stack out of the odd fifty something the neighborhood contained. The fact it was almost half of the whole neighborhood alone was enough to make my stomach churn with anger.
My anger only worsened when I remembered that the local legal community had brushed Clara off, and I wondered how they could have done that if she’d shown them all of the information she’d gathered because, hell, she’d done a good part of the job for them just by finding people who were willing to be a member of the lawsuit.
I inhaled through my nose to regain my composure before I turned my focus back to the list of names I had quickly jotted down to the side.
“Yes,” I said. “We’ve got twenty-four confirmed illnesses in varying severity, and the other twenty-five either didn’t want to speak with Clara or had nothing to tell her.”
I tapped the butt of my own pen against my list of names as I bounced my leg under my desk. I had too much pent-up energy, and I could practically feel it as it trickled through my muscles. I hadn’t been able to go on my usual morning run, and I had begun to regret it already.
“Clara, that’s the nurse,” Evelyn mused. “Was her daughter the first major illness?”
Evelyn looked up at me with her thin eyebrows raised in question. She held her pen poised to take down my answer, and I had no doubt that she would soon have every answer and bit of information carefully categorized and labeled.
“I don’t think so, no,” I hesitated. “She told me that she’d gone out to ask her neighbors for advice after the diagnosis, and that’s how she found out about the spike in cases. I think our first step here would be to figure out the order of the illnesses, maybe get a better idea of what exactly we’re dealing with.”
Brody gave a gruff nod as he leaned back in the chair, and the wood gave an aggravated creak with the motion. He folded his thick arms over his torso and continued to chew at the pen.
“I agree,” Brody said around the pen in his mouth. “Once we have a sort of timeline, it’ll be easier to try and find some eggheads to explain it all.”
Evelyn pursed her lips as she scanned the list of names. She sat ramrod straight as she read, and I wondered if she’d been to some sort of girls’ finishing school to get posture like that.
“I know Frank and I worked a case with the EPA years ago,” she began, slowly, as she carefully chose her words. “I’m not going to get your hopes up, but I may have a name or two stored away somewhere to ask for any leads.”
Her voice had slowly faded into a murmur as she spoke as though she was already drifting away into concentrated thought, and I could almost see the gears of her mind at work as she pulled up the information from that old case and sorted through the names for a possible lead.
“Alright, Evelyn, if you could work on that, I’d be appreciative,” I said as I watched her for a sign of acknowledgement before I turned my focus to Brody. “Brody, you and I can head down to Piney Crest and start to work through the lists to get a timeline together.”
Brody gave a small shrug as if to say he didn’t care what he did, but Evelyn cleared her throat as I began to rise from my chair.
I looked down at her and cocked my head to the side in question.
“Archer, I need to get home to my files.” Evelyn didn’t phrase it like a question and it was at that point I remembered I’d been the one to drive her over.
“I’ll drive you back, Evelyn,” Brody said with a dramatic humph as he pushed his chair back with a teeth-grating scrape. “At least my car will treat you better than the kid’s.”
A wry smirk curled at the corners of his lips, but my only response was a simple shrug because while I could tell I was being ribbed, I didn’t have the time to care.
“Sure,” I said, “Just send me a text or give a call when you’re on your way to the street, and we can meet.”
Brody gave a tip of his head before he sauntered over to grab his hat from the rack and secure it back onto his head. He offered his arm to Evelyn like some sort of Southern gentleman, and she scrunched her nose in what I could only describe as mild disgust.
“You quit that, Brody Lucas,” she huffed as she smacked at his hand. “I’m not even a decade older than you. I can walk to your damn car myself.”
I bit back a laugh and watched as they shuffled out before following suit. I took a moment to grab my list of names and lock up the firm before I swung my keys around my finger and made my way over to my own perfectly respectable car. I only took a moment to pull up the GPS coordinates for Piney Crest before setting out on my way back to the little neighborhood.
The drive seemed to take less time than it had the day before, and I wasn’t sure if traffic had cleared or if it was just the thoughts jumbled in my head that kept me busy as I drove along Crowley Road in silence. But it wasn’t long before I was pulling into the already familiar turn and sidling my car along a curb.
The smell hadn’t changed in the day or so since I’d been there last, though it was strange to think that it had only been a day. Everything in this case had moved faster than I anticipated.
After my first conversation with Clara, I’d been prepared to spend days trying to find a co-counsel. That didn’t even include the time I’d expected to spend finding funds, and then, after what would undoubtedly have been weeks, I would have been able to make any real steps at building a case. But thanks to Higgins and his generosity, I’d barely had time to waste.
I put the car in park and prayed it would remain in one piece while I walked the neighborhood. I slid out of my seat, slammed the door closed, and clicked the lock on my key fob. I slid them into my pocket in exchange for my neatly folded list.
I carefully smoothed it out with my palm against the hood of my car. I hadn’t written down all of the details, just the names and house numbers for everyone that had supposedly fallen ill in the last two years. I whistled out through my pursed lips and hoped it wouldn’t take Brody too long to drop off Evelyn.
It would be much easier to split up than to try and tackle all of these names alone, but I had to start somewhere, and I’d always been good at getting people to talk.
I’d parked near Clara’s house as a point of reference, but I gave a quick scan of my surroundings to check the house numbers and see if any were on my list
.
It looked like the nearest number was 1413. Clara’s house was 1409 which meant it was only a couple of houses down on the same side of the street.
I folded my list once again and tucked it into the back pocket of my trousers before I stepped away from my car and up onto the cracked sidewalk.
I tried to breathe through my nose to avoid inhaling the chemical smell that hung over the area like a canopy. I pushed my hand through my hair to keep it from my face and hoped that the overwhelming Texas heat didn’t make me come across as disheveled as I began to walk toward 1413.
As I walked, a car slowed to a barely discernible creep next to me. A mild, confused frown cracked across my lips as I glanced over at the old white Impala.
The passenger side window rolled down, and Clara leaned across the seat with her hand holding the lowered window as she craned her neck to look up at me.
“Archer?” she asked as she squinted up at me. “I thought that was you. Why...”
She trailed off with a wave of her hand, as if to ask me what I was doing back in Piney Crest so soon.
I slowed to a stop of my own, and my frown slipped away. A small smile quickly replaced it, and Clara smiled back for just a moment.
“I told you I’d help you, didn’t I?” I reminded her with a bit of a laugh. “I’m here to gather some information from the other people affected by the plant.”
Clara chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment, and then glanced at her neighbors’ houses.
“Okay. Just... stay right there, alright?” she asked and shifted back fully into the driver’s seat. “Just let me park and I’ll show you around. I can also show you down to the riverbank.”
I blinked in surprise, but she’d already peeled away. I watched as she pulled into her driveway, and I heard the engine cough as she turned it off.
A moment later, she clambered from the car and jogged toward me. Her thick, red hair hung in a sloppy ponytail that she reached up to tighten as she came to a stop. She huffed out a short little breath before tilting her chin to look up at me, and her nose crinkled as she gave a little smile.
She seemed like a different woman than the one I had met the day before, like just the knowledge someone took her seriously had given her a little life back. She even managed to make the faded green scrubs she wore looked cheerful.
“Alright. I’ve got some time before Emma gets home,” Clara announced as she clapped her slim hands together. “Where were you planning on starting?”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face because her vigor was infectious, and I suddenly felt like I could take on the whole neighborhood on my own. I glanced over my shoulder at the house I’d been making my way toward.
“I planned on working through the list of names you’d given me,” I explained. “Specifically, the people that are sick. I was going to start with the Harrisons’ in 1413 since they’re the closest to your house.”
Clara gave another nod and chewed at her chapped lower lip.
“One of them should be home,” she said. “Ever since… well, ever since all of this started, they’ve had to take a lot of time off work.”
As she explained, I gestured for her to lead the way. Clara’s nose crinkled again before she started off down the sidewalk and I worked to keep my pace slow and forced my steps to match hers.
I looked down at Clara as I slid my hands into my pockets, and I wondered how she could stay in the neighborhood.
She didn’t seem to be bothered by the smell, but maybe that made sense. She and everyone else in Piney Crest had been living with it for longer than anyone probably knew, and they probably didn’t notice it anymore, and I assumed if I stayed around long enough, I’d have started to go blind to it, too.
“How have you been holding up?” I asked to break the silence.
I couldn’t help myself from saying something because she didn’t seem to have many people to turn to, and if I could help, I wanted to, even if we were practically strangers.
Clara glanced up at me and a look I had a hard time reading passed across her face. The look was gone in the blink of an eye, and she gave a small, huffy laugh. She stilled her steps as we reached the front of the Harrisons’ walkway.
The sidewalk had cracked in so many places leading up to their house that it looked like shoddy stonework more than concrete.
“I’m existing,” she said, like it was so simple. “It’s... this isn’t the sort of thing people like you understand.”
She shook her head as she tried to come up with the words to explain, which sent her ponytail swaying from side to side.
“Because I’m not a parent,” I guessed which was exactly what Brody had said to me before.
However, Clara shook her head and that same quick, thoughtful look flashed across her face. She glanced up toward the Harrisons’ front door and let her eyes linger there instead of on me.
“No,” she said. “I meant, you don’t seem like the type of person people ignore. People pay attention to you.”
She gave a tired-sounding laugh, but there didn’t seem to be much joy in the sound, and I couldn’t help but wonder what her laugh sounded like when she wasn’t so miserable.
“Well, I don’t know about that…” I started to argue.
“If you’ve got a problem, people want to help,” she said. “People believe you when you say something’s wrong.”
She rubbed at her arm and turned her focus back on me, and I found that it was hard not to wither under the emotion in her gaze.
I thought for a moment before finding something to say, because she was a little right. In just a day, Higgins’ had invested, Jerry had sent me Evelyn, and Evelyn had sent me Brody.
“I believe you,” I said after a long pause, and I meant it.
I could be risking my career to help not only her and Emma, but the people of Piney Crest. That wasn’t the sort of thing you did without belief, but Clara met my eyes and held them before she broke our eye contact with a nod.
“And you’re the only one,” she sighed.
She didn’t sound sad or even heartbroken by that fact. In fact, she spoke like a woman who knew her options had run out a long time ago. She cleared her throat and looked back up toward the Harrisons’ front door.
“Come on, I think I saw the blinds move,” she said.
And just like that, whatever moment we’d been sharing was over.
I gave a small gesture for Clara to lead the way up the sidewalk, and she gave a prim knock on the door and rocked back on her heels as she waited for someone to answer. I stood a few steps behind her and did the same with my hands still tucked in my pockets.
It only took a moment before the door was gingerly pulled open.
A gaunt-looking woman with large, deep-set brown eyes stared back at us. Her thin brow furrowed in confusion as her focus settled on Clara.
“Clara, is something wrong? Is Emma alright?” the woman asked in a soft voice.
Her tone reminded me of my grandmother when she was trying not to disturb my grandfather’s nap. Her concerned expression hardened for a moment though as she noticed me for the first time.
“Who’s this?” she demanded.
Clara glanced at me before she smiled at the other woman.
“No, no, Mrs. Harrison,” Clara murmured as she matched Mrs. Harrison’s tone. “Emma’s perfectly fine, and so am I. You know how I was promising I’d find someone to help us? Well, this is Archer. He’s a lawyer who’s agreed to take on Knox for us.”
Clara gave a little wave of her hand toward me, and I nodded my head in a polite greeting, and the change in Mrs. Harrison’s posture almost startled me. For the first time since she’d answered the door, I realized she wasn’t elderly, as I’d first assumed when I saw her, and instead, she couldn’t have been much older than her forties. I wondered what had worn her down.
Mrs. Harrison glanced over her shoulder as if to check on something before she stepped out of the house and gently pull
ed the front door shut behind her. The sweatshirt she wore hung off her thin frame in a way that softened her further.
“You’re a lawyer?” she asked, but it didn’t seem like she was looking for an answer. Instead, she looked back at Clara with a disbelieving shake of her head. “I can’t believe you found someone.”
Mrs. Harrison actually smiled for a moment as she and Clara exchanged quick looks. Then, she turned her attention from Clara and back at me, cleared her throat, and extended her hand to me with a professional little flourish.
“Nora Harrison,” she introduced herself. “You can call me Nora. I’ve tried for years to break that one of calling me Mrs.. I’m not even old enough to be her mother.”
Despite the accusatory voice, there didn’t seem to be any heat in Nora’s tone, and Clara gave a sheepish smile and simply shrugged.
“Alright, Nora,” I agreed as I shook her hand. “I’m Archer Landon, of Landon Legal, and I’ve just got a few questions for you about your experiences with Knox Chemical.”
As I spoke, I pulled my well-loved notepad from my back pocket and clicked my pen open.
Nora studied the notepad for a moment, and then nodded. She folded one arm over her chest as she pressed her back against the front door, though I wasn’t sure if that was to keep me out or someone else in. She tucked a strand of thin, brown hair behind her ear and then looked expectantly at me.
“Well, I don’t have anything good to say,” she began with a disgusted shake of her head. “Alvin and I-- Alvin’s my husband-- he and I moved to the area about three years ago once our kids left for college. It didn’t take more than a year before Alvin got sick.”
Nora folded her other arm over her chest and took a shallow breath as I jotted down a rough timeline based on what she’d told me.
“Sick with what, if you don’t mind my asking?” I asked with my pen still primed over my paper.
Nora gave another sigh and studied something over my shoulder for a moment.
“CKD,” she paused. “Sorry, chronic kidney disease. He wasn’t at risk, and no one on either of his parents’ sides has ever had it from what we could find. Alvin was healthy. He worked in construction. He taught basketball at one of the local high schools in his spare time. He...”