Longhorn Law

by Dave Daren

  “We have as much of a chance as we had before,” I replied and then swallowed. “But... some people in the neighborhood might be dissuaded by this.”

  Dissuaded was putting it lightly, when, really, they might drop their position on our side entirely to make this new lawsuit against them disappear into the ether. I could have sworn I heard the flick and hiss of a lighter again. But Clara cleared her throat as she struggled to find words. I heard the faint start and stop of a sentence a few times before she finally managed to work out what she wanted to say.

  “You don’t have to use kid gloves, Archer,” she declared. “I’m an adult. What does this really look like for us?”

  I heard the shift in her tone, and I recognized it from countless other people over countless years, the way they’d had to steel themselves against bad news because they had no other options. I wished I could give her a better answer, but I couldn’t sugarcoat what was about to happen.

  “We might lose some people to this, the defamation suit, I mean,” I admitted with a heavy sigh. “And that could be bad. I’m not sure how bad yet, but for a suit like this, a judge makes a ruling as to how many plaintiffs we need for a class action suit to move forward. I don’t know that number yet, and won’t until one of us on the team can speak with him.”

  I dropped my forehead into my palm with my elbow propped on my knee to support my weight. All the exhaustion I’d been battling was crashing over me like a wave, all at once.

  “Shit,” Clara hissed out after a long pause.

  I exhaled hard and tried not to chuckle. “Shit,” I agreed. “I’ve got to go, alright? I need to make sure Brody and Evelyn are up to speed. Try and get some rest?”

  I said it despite knowing that she’d probably be awake for hours. God only knew I’d be doing the same thing. Despite the weariness clinging to me, I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky as to settle down and rest. Already, I had too many things that crowded my mind.

  Across the line, Clara sighed, and then the peace was broken by the sound of a car alarm in the background. She grunted, and I heard her stand up and move again.

  “I’ll try,” she whispered. “Goodnight, Archer.”

  There was another faint pause before the line went dead. I dropped my phone onto the couch and gave myself a moment to collect the thoughts that were scattered through my mind. This wasn’t good, and even that felt like an understatement.

  I didn’t want to bother Evelyn and Brody with my own workaholic tendencies this late in the night, and to be honest, there wasn’t anything more any of us could do at eight-something at night that couldn’t wait until morning. So, instead of dragging them into the office after they’d settled in for the night, I sent off a simple text to the both of them.

  Meet me at the office- 7 a.m.. IT’S URGENT!!!!!!

  The microwave gave another shrill round of beeps, and I groaned. Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet and shuffled over to put both the microwave and myself out of our misery as I popped open the door to remove the now cooled plate. The idea of eating made me feel sick to my stomach.

  With a labored sigh, I slid the newly heated tamales back into the ziploc bag, redeposited the bag in the freezer, and set the barely touched plate in the sink to deal with in the morning. I still needed to shower and shave before I laid down and pretended I was able to go to sleep.

  The rest of the night passed by in a blur. I wasn’t sure how long I’d spent cleaning myself in the bathroom or how long I’d listlessly laid in bed while I stared at my ceiling, but by the time 6:30 in the morning rolled around, I felt no more rested than I had when I laid down the night before.

  I drained my mug of coffee before I even made it the handful of blocks between my apartment and the office, but it didn’t seem to help the pervasively tired ache that clung to me like a bad perfume. The morning’s saving grace was the neat little wicker basket on the doorstep with a cheery blue ribbon tied around the handle and a bundle of still steaming muffins placed inside.

  I glanced over at Hazel’s Heavenly Treats to see if Hazel herself was nearby, but I didn’t see her. I made a mental note to thank her later as I bent down to snag the basket. I hooked my arm through the wicker handle as I unlocked the office.

  The stench of fast-food grease fought against the scents wafting over through the vents from Hazels, and despite the almost noxious quality of the smell, my stomach still growled.

  It was only then I remembered how long it had been since I’d eaten. I pulled back the cheesecloth towel draped over the usual blueberry muffins and plucked one from the pile. I carefully peeled off the paper wrapper and took a large, greedy bite. A blueberry burst in my mouth, and for the few minutes it took me to eat the muffin with one of my hands cupped under my face to catch the crumbs, I felt as close as I’d felt to peaceful in the last, exhausting twenty-four hours.

  After I finished my muffin, I set to cleaning up the office from our marathon sprint of work yesterday. The space wasn’t the most conducive for three people, and we barely had enough space to spread out our things, even with the makeshift filing cabinet desk we’d set up in the only free corner for Evelyn to work at after she’d so kindly told me that if I didn’t get her a desk she’d be taking mine.

  By the time I’d gotten the trash taken to the bin out back, Brody and Evelyn had both made themselves as comfortable as the office allowed.

  Evelyn was dressed in her usual battle uniform of a skirt and blazer combo I’d expect to see in a courtroom in the late nineties while Brody was wearing sturdy jeans, dusty boots, and a button-up with an honest to god bolo tie. His cowboy hat already hung off the coat rack, because clearly the outfit wouldn’t be complete without it.

  Compared to the two of them, I was dressed down, in the same jeans I’d worn yesterday and an old t-shirt I’d dragged with me all the way from college, to Mesa, and then to Crowley. It advertised a local grocery store I’d worked at while pursuing my pre-law degree with the faded logo nearly peeling off. I’d brought a nicer set of clothing and it laid draped across the back seat of my car for safekeeping.

  Evelyn didn’t have to say anything for me to know she was judging my attire. The look on her face told me more than enough about how she felt and what she seemed like she wanted to do about it. I ignored her death glare, however, and sat on the edge of my desk. I didn’t dance around why I’d called them in so early any longer.

  “Knox is suing four of the residents in Piney Crest for defamation,” I dropped the bomb and a shocked silence followed.

  Brody slowly lowered his stocky frame into one of the chairs across from the desk, and Evelyn raised a wrinkled hand to her chest.

  “My word,” she exhaled in horror.

  I nodded my agreement.

  “The news broke last night on Channel 6,” I informed them. “Knox cited several past infractions numerous people in the neighborhood had as to why they’re untrustworthy plaintiffs and is explicitly suing Ken, the man that spoke to the news yesterday morning, as well as the four other people that spoke on the broadcast, and Clara.”

  I felt the air deflate from me as I relayed the information. Maybe I should have taken a page from my mother’s book and taken one of those melatonin supplements she always insisted I try to no avail. My lack of sleep already felt like it was catching up to me in all the worst ways and left me fuzzy around the edges.

  “Have you heard anything from any of the other plaintiffs yet?” Brody questioned.

  He worried his fingers along the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache already coming on, and I couldn’t blame him much if he did. I’d had a persistent ache behind my eyes since I’d sat down and watched Knox drag us all through the mud. I sighed and gave a weary shake of my head.

  “No,” I said. “Not yet, at least. We were also implicated in Knox’s press conference. He said in no uncertain terms that I was an upstart causing problems to make a name for myself. We’ll need to check in with Piney Crest today, to make sure we didn’t lose anyone with thi
s attempted purge.”

  I rubbed my eyes before I dropped my hands onto my desk and nearly knocked the basket off. I gave a weak gesture toward the muffins as if they would make our problems less monumental. No one moved to take one. Instead, we all sat in our aching silence for a while longer as the seriousness of our situation really sank in.

  “Evelyn, would you try and get in contact with the judge we’d have to present the suit to?” I asked as I turned my attention toward her. “We need to know how many residents we have to keep on board for this suit to even pass through to trial.”

  “We should make our way back out there today,” Brody suggested. “Do some door-to-door checks to make sure we still have everyone on board.”

  I gave a slow nod of agreement. It would be harder to ignore us in person, and I already had the sinking feeling that we were going to be ignored. I didn’t want to consider that the neighborhood I was risking my career to save might be closing ranks in front of me thanks to Knox and his scare tactics.

  “Let’s try calling first, at least, just to confirm someone’s there,” I said. “We have less of a chance of people even being home until later this evening.”

  The last thing I wanted was to drive out to Piney Crest and wait in my car for hours on end while watching people’s front doors to see if they were actually ignoring us or if they were simply at work.

  Brody gave the gruff nod of agreement that I was beginning to understand was just his usual response to these sorts of things. He seemed like he chafed under the leadership of someone else, and even though he’d not gone so far as to say so much, I wasn’t an idiot. A man like Brody dominated wherever he went, but at least he wasn’t being actively combative about his position as my second.

  “Now, somebody else better eat a damn muffin, or I’ll eat them all myself, and Hazel will feel guilty for sending me into cardiac arrest before I’m forty,” I joked just to lighten the mood.

  No one laughed, but I couldn’t be too upset. It hadn’t been a funny joke. But, the spirits in the room seemed to have shifted from strictly morose to just a little downtrodden, and we could work with that.

  I pushed myself up off the corner of my desk to sit in my chair. Brody and I had a quick discussion on how we intended to split our list of names before we set to work while Evelyn sat at her own makeshift desk and began to deal with the bureaucratic hell that was involved in getting a judge on the phone.

  The first number on my list, one for a Macauly residence, went straight to voicemail. Given the early hour, I didn’t think too much of it. I left a mark by their name to remind me to try and call again later before I moved down to the next name.

  I dialed the number for a Gregory Reed and listened as the dial tone chimed, and chimed, and chimed, until finally a man’s rough voice came across the line.

  “Hello?” he coughed out the word with his deep, smoker’s rasp.

  I skimmed the timeline on the whiteboard from across the room, tracing down through the air with the capped end of my pen until I came to Gregory’s name. No, it wasn’t a smoker’s rasp. Gregory was one of the plaintiffs that had developed cancer, specifically, lung cancer.

  “Hi, Mr. Reed?” I said in the most pleasant tone I could muster. “This is Archer Landon, of Landon Legal. We spoke recently about you joining our case against Knox Chemicals. Do you have some time to talk with me or a time I can call back?”

  The line went soft for one minute, then two. I checked the screen on the landline to make sure I hadn’t somehow dropped the call.

  “Mr. Reed?” I tried again.

  “I shouldn’t be talkin’ to you,” Gregory finally spoke up. He sounded skittish, and I couldn’t help but think about an animal backed into a corner.

  I had barely even pushed him, so I wasn’t sure how I could ease the pressure. Before I could formulate the right response, the line clicked dead. I blinked and checked the receiver as if I had somehow been the one to end the call, even though I clearly hadn’t.

  I furrowed my brow and looked across the desk at Brody. He gave me a dour shake of his head as he pressed his own phone to his ear. I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t having any better luck.

  The next few phone calls followed a similar pattern. Either the line would ring and ring until I was sent to voicemail, or, the resident would answer, hear who I was, and make some excuse to quit talking to me.

  Only one person told me to piss off, in no uncertain terms. But everything about this situation felt very, very wrong. I dropped my phone back into the cradle and leaned back in my seat as I chewed at my lower lip.

  We really did need to head out to Piney Crest to try and do this in person, but I had an already sinking feeling that whatever headway we’d made in this case was slipping out from under us like quicksand. Brody hadn’t fared any better.

  By the end of our phone tag circuit, we’d each called thirteen residences each, sometimes two numbers from each household, to try all twenty-six residences. We only had five people answer their phones. It didn’t bode well for us or the case that we were already struggling after one setback.

  I felt sick to my stomach and sorely regretted eating that damn muffin. Only an hour had passed since we’d all set to our tasks, and in that hour, we’d had what seemed to be no actual successes. Evelyn had been placed in an infinite limbo of on holds and elevator music, and Brody and I had both been rejected by nearly everyone we called. I couldn’t help but feel hopeless.

  I knew that Knox hadn’t planned on taking our accusations lying down, but I had foolishly been expecting the hammer instead of the axe he’d taken to the case.

  “I’m going to drive out to the neighborhood now,” I announced after weighing my options in my mind.

  The issue was, I didn’t really even have any options to weigh. I could have sat on my ass in the office, calling and calling and calling the numbers with Brody until someone finally picked up, or I could go out and start knocking on doors while Brody kept calling.

  “We’ll cover more ground that way,” I added with a grunt as I pushed myself up to my feet.

  “Well, I certainly hope you’ve got something to change into, because you look like a vagrant, or someone that moves furniture for a living,” Evelyn scolded as she wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes, Evelyn, I have clothes in my car,” I assured her. “I’m not that stupid as to show up on the doors of panicked clients dressed like I’m... moving furniture?”

  I furrowed my brow before waving off her concern, and then grabbed my keys from where I’d set them at the edge of my desk.

  “I’ll keep you two in the loop,” I said as I opened the door. “Brody, keep calling, and Evelyn, keep pestering the judge. We need that number,”

  It didn’t take much sweet talking for Hazel to let me in to use her bathroom to swap my jeans and t-shirt out for a pair of trousers and a dress shirt. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and opted out of my tie. Evelyn might have thought I looked like a vagrant before, but now I just looked like a damn mortician.

  I gave Hazel another smile and thanks, and then bolted before she could talk my ear off. I’d always felt like Hazel and my mother would get along, though the thought of the two of them together terrified me. I could imagine the pair teaming up to talk me half to death when they weren’t trying to find me the perfect wife.

  I tossed my discarded clothes into a ball in the back seat before sliding into the driver’s seat. I cranked the engine and then pulled out of the lot to join the flow of traffic. It seemed to be taking me less and less time with each drive I made out to Piney Crest, as if I was learning all the shortcuts. I didn’t see Clara’s car in her drive, which led me to believe she was at work, so I pulled up in front of her curb.

  The neighborhood was eerily quiet, and it was disconcerting to step out of my car into the silence of a still neighborhood. There were no birds in the trees, no children out on lawns, and no sounds of life from any of the homes. All I heard was the whir of a street
’s worth of air conditioners already pumping cool air into the houses, and if I really listened, the slow coursing of the river just over the line of houses to my left.

  I smoothed out the front of my shirt, made sure I had my phone, and tucked my keys into my pocket before I started down the sidewalk to begin my canvassing. I pulled up the note on my phone of all the house numbers I needed to keep an eye out for, and simply began with the nearest number.

  1406 across the street looked like every other house lining the sidewalk. Even if the houses were different aesthetically, they all carried the same look of desperation that seemed to permeate Piney Crest. No amount of new paint or well-trimmed grass could hide the sagging bones and cracking foundations. It was just something I could tell, even from the outside.

  Bitterly, I had the fleeting thought that if Evelyn’s neighborhood had been poisoned, the residents wouldn’t have had to wait until someone like me was stupid enough to take the case.

  I glanced both ways before jogging across the street from one cracked sidewalk to the other, and then I made note of the name on the list before knocking. No one answered the door, and so I knocked again. I could have sworn I saw the curtains move, and a small frown creased my face as I knocked for a third, and what I decided would be a final time.

  This time, the front door creaked open and left me looking through a screen door at James Ramirez. He kept his hand on the front door, holding it open, just a crack. I remembered that his wife had been one of the two residents to confide that they’d suffered miscarriages in the last two years.

  Just past James, I saw the sort of toys a toddler might have strewn across the tan carpet that I had a feeling had been white about thirty years ago when it was installed.

  James rubbed at his eyes and gave a heavy yawn. Ah, so he hadn’t been avoiding me, just asleep. The thought gave me some small bit of reassurance that maybe hope wasn’t nearly as lost as we’d all thought. It hadn’t even cracked nine in the morning, and surely not everyone had risen with the sun like I had, especially if they’d worked the late shift.