“I need you to go over the juror questionnaires by morning, Claire,” Lyle said, as he once again emerged from the refuge of his office.
“Lyle, it’s already six o’clock. I haven’t taken so much as a lunch or coffee break all day,” Claire replied. “Did you ever hear from Carl?” she asked, hoping for some positive information.
“Yeah. He called about five-thirty. Said they’d probably get to closing arguments tomorrow unless the plaintiff calls quite a few rebuttal witnesses. He didn’t think there was any possibility they’d settle. Our only hope will be an indecisive jury,” he told her, obviously attempting to remain calm.
“Well, thanks for that cheerful note. Tell you what, I’ll take the questionnaires home and look them over. I can at least get you a preliminary workup on prospective jurors by morning,” she said, seeing the beginning signs of panic etched on his face.
❧
“You sleep here last night?” Gloria asked Claire as she entered the law office at seven the next morning.
“Not hardly. I got here about six because I promised Lyle I’d have a preliminary workup on the jurors for him. This way I have time to get it typed before he gets here.”
“How late did you stay up working on that?” Gloria asked.
“I got done about two,” Claire replied, continuing to key the information.
“So you’ve had about three hours of sleep. You ought to be in great shape by noon,” Gloria chastised her friend. “These guys are gonna kill us with these trials. I think they need to hire some more help if they’re going to keep going at this pace,” she continued.
“You may be right, but we don’t have time to argue the finer points of employee-employer relations right now. I suggest that you get to work on that pile of motions Lyle left on your desk. We’ll talk about organizing a union after the trial,” Claire joked, flashing her friend a quick smile.
“You heard any more from Jake?” Gloria asked as she positioned herself at the metal secretarial desk.
“No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondered. Roger called last night and said Jake was going on and on at work yesterday—telling him about what a good time you guys had on Saturday. I figured he’d probably called you, that’s all,” Gloria remarked.
Surprised at the sense of pleasure she felt upon hearing the comment, Claire felt a blush rise in her cheeks. She hoped Gloria wasn’t watching.
“What kind of progress are we making?” Lyle asked as he appeared in the office at nine o’clock.
“We wouldn’t be making any if we all waited until nine o’clock to come to work,” Gloria impulsively replied.
“You know, Gloria, if you weren’t such a good legal secretary, I wouldn’t put up with your audacity,” he bantered.
“Ah, come on, Lyle, you wouldn’t know how to act if I treated you any other way,” she replied.
They all three laughed, easing the mounting tension that invariably crept into their lives whenever there were long hours of trial preparation looming ahead. Perhaps to an outsider, Gloria’s undaunted cheekiness would probably have appeared insubordinate. But they were a small office, and instead of offending the bosses, she generally got a laugh out of them. Claire admired her friend’s innate ability to know when to keep her mouth shut and when to toss out a quick repartee. If nothing else, Gloria had excellent timing.
Claire’s strengths within the office were more tangible. She didn’t want to use her time running for coffee and sandwiches, easing rising tensions, or patting people on the back for performing their jobs. Instead, she wanted to produce, organize, and, above all, be prepared for any circumstance that might occur in trial. Dave and Lyle had often been pleasantly surprised when an event developed during trial and Claire could produce the document or research papers they needed to move forward immediately with an argument. Both attorneys had encouraged her to go back to school and get her law degree, promising her a partnership after she completed the grueling hours of academia. She promptly refused.
Claire was rather private regarding her personal life. Dave and Lyle assumed that Glenn had left her huge insurance policies and retirement funds. They thought she worked more in an effort to fill her time than to earn money. Not that they actually said those words. It was more in the comments they occasionally made about their rich, widowed legal assistant, along with the fact that when they gave raises or Christmas bonuses, they would remark that the money probably wouldn’t mean much to her. But Glenn hadn’t left large insurance policies or investments.
Shortly after his death when Claire had called several insurance companies in order to apply for payment, she found that Glenn had borrowed on the policies, never paying back the loans. She had been shocked to learn that the value on all of them had diminished to almost nothing. He did have one policy through his employer that was a straight life policy with no loan value. Fortunately, it had been enough to pay for the hospital expenses not covered by their medical insurance, as well as the funeral. A check for Glenn’s accrued vacation days and his final paycheck were the remainder of his “estate.”
It was during those grief-filled days that Claire realized how little she knew about their finances. All of Michelle’s medical bills, the cost of flying back and forth across the country, staying in hotels, seeking out and using medical professionals, purchasing special wheelchairs and equipment, were all neatly combined in two large folders. Little had been covered by their medical insurance, but Glenn never told her of the struggle to pay the mounting debts. It appeared that he had first depleted all of their savings and certificates of deposit; next he cashed the bonds they had begun purchasing for Michelle when she was born; then he withdrew his retirement funds; finally, he borrowed against his life insurance policies.
For months after his death, Claire had been in a daze, angry at herself for paying no attention to the finances, never questioning how the bills were being paid. Deep in her heart she hadn’t wanted to know, afraid that if she inquired, Glenn would have yet another reason for institutionalizing Michelle. And she didn’t want to hear those words.
After days of sorting through all of the papers, paying the outstanding bills, and doing a final tally, there was no doubt that she must continue to work. Without Glenn’s income, she would be fortunate to keep her head above water. The one thing Glenn hadn’t mortgaged was their home, and Claire was immeasurably thankful that he had stopped short of that act. She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken that ultimate step. Perhaps because Claire would have been required to sign the mortgage papers, or perhaps because it had been the family home he grew up in, willed to him by his parents at their death. In retrospect, Claire occasionally wondered how many important papers she had signed, never questioning what they were as he shoved them before her and offered a pen. She probably would have unwittingly signed mortgage papers on the house had Glenn asked for her signature—she was thankful he hadn’t.
“I’m going down to the Good Eats and grab some lunch. Want to come along?” Gloria asked as she pulled her purse from the bottom desk drawer.
“I’d better stay and get this done,” Claire replied, nodding toward the sheaf of paperwork on her desk.
“It’ll be there when we get back. You need to take a break, Claire. You’ve been here since six this morning. Come on,” Gloria urged.
“Yeah, go with her,” Lyle chimed in as he walked into the conference room where the two women had been working. “It’ll do you good to get out of here for a while. Besides, you can bring me something to eat,” he quickly added.
“You work too hard, Claire,” Gloria admonished as the two of them walked toward the small cafe down the street. “You know the old saying, ‘all work and no play’,” her friend chanted.
“Yeah, yeah. If this lunch break is going to be spent listening to you lecture me, I’ll go back to work,” Claire warned affably.
“Hey, look who’s here!” Gloria exclaimed in mock surprise.
Claire turned to see Rog
er and Jake walking through the front door of the cafe. Both were out of uniform, appearing to be off work for the day. She felt a warmth as her eyes met Jake’s, a sense of genuine pleasure to see him. Hold it! You’d better watch yourself, she thought, sending an immediate warning to her brain.
Gloria waved, and the two men walked toward the booth. “You invited them, didn’t you?” Claire whispered across the gray Formica tabletop.
“Of course,” Gloria responded, keeping her eyes on Roger.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Claire quizzed, her voice becoming louder.
“Probably because she figured you wouldn’t join us,” Jake replied, sliding into the booth beside her. “Hi,” he added and, in one fluid motion, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hi—and don’t do that,” Claire replied in an ominous tone.
“I guess you’ve been warned,” Roger said, shaking his finger at Jake.
“Sorry,” Jake told Claire. “I was just glad to see you. No offense intended. You sure look nice,” he continued, surveying her appearance.
“You both take the day off, or have they changed military attire from fatigues to blue jeans?” Claire inquired while Roger and Gloria slipped into deep conversation.
“It’s military payday,” Jake responded.
“Oh, I forgot. You Army types get off at noon on paydays. That’s a nice little perk,” Claire replied, with a note of envy in her voice.
“You, too, can have all of the Army’s perks, Claire. All you’ve gotta do is see your local recruiter,” he responded, not allowing her comment to ruffle him.
“Two points for you,” she said, looking down at the menu, realizing her comment had been uncalled for.
“Let’s see, I think that gives me twenty-two of those famous points. What do I get when I reach a hundred?” he asked, giving her an engaging smile.
“I don’t give prizes—just points,” she responded.
“You ought to think about it.”
“Think about what?” she asked.
“Giving prizes—you know—the old Pavlov theory. When you perform properly, you get a treat. Points aren’t much of a treat. You need to have at least some kind of reward for reaching a goal of every twenty-five points or so,” he explained while retaining a serious countenance.
“You’re joking, right?” Claire asked, giving him a small grin.
“Not if I can talk you into my theory,” he said. “How about something like at twenty-five points I get to go see Michelle again, at fifty points I get to kiss you, at seventy-five points, we date each other exclusively. . .”
“I don’t think so,” Claire interrupted, not wanting to hear the reward for one hundred points.
“I don’t know why not. You control the points,” he responded, giving her a wink. “What are you going to have?” he asked, changing the subject.
“The club sandwich,” she replied.
“How’s Michelle?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“You going over to see her this weekend?”
“I don’t know. We’re preparing for another trial. Depends on what I can get squeezed in,” she responded honestly.
“I tried to call you last night to see if I could go with you the next time you go see her. Didn’t get any answer,” he said.
“I had to work late. I’ll probably be working late all week. If I get to go it will be on the spur of the moment. I really can’t make definite plans when we’re preparing for trial,” Claire explained.
“You could give me a call. I can be ready pretty quickly,” he argued doggedly.
“As a matter of fact, I tried to call you Saturday night. I didn’t get an answer,” she countered.
“Let’s see, Saturday night. Oh, I remember. After leaving you on Saturday I went home for a while, and then some of the guys got together to play some basketball over at King Field House,” he explained.
“I didn’t know the gym stayed open that late,” she remarked.
He didn’t respond to her comment.
SEVEN
At the last minute, they lucked out. Carl Simpson’s jury had deadlocked, with the judge declaring a mistrial on Thursday afternoon. To Lyle’s relief, the court clerk had called advising that Judge Hackley didn’t want to begin impaneling a jury until Monday.
“That’s a comfort,” Claire sighed, as soon as Lyle related the news.
“How many hours can you give me this weekend?” Lyle immediately inquired of the two women.
“Aw, come on, Lyle,” Gloria pleaded. “We’ve got the rest of today and all day tomorrow. Can’t you finish up before the weekend?”
Glancing at Claire, he gave her a hopeful look. “What about you, Claire? Can you give me any time over the weekend?” he inquired.
“I can work late Friday night, and I can give you some time on Saturday. Sunday’s out. I’m going to church in the morning and want to go see Michelle in the afternoon,” she explained.
“It’s a deal,” he quickly agreed. “I’ll have my dictation completed so that you don’t have to work on Saturday if you can work late Friday,” he said, quickly turning his attention toward Gloria. “Can you live with that?” he asked.
“I guess,” she replied mournfully. “As long as I get out of here by ten o’clock. I want to spend at least a couple hours with Roger,” she told Lyle.
“I promise,” he said, obviously delighted with the bargains he’d struck with each of them.
“You seeing Jake this weekend?” Gloria asked when Lyle had gone back to his office.
“I don’t think so,” Claire answered.
“How come? Bet he’d be more than willing to go with you Sunday afternoon.”
“Maybe. We’ll see,” she absently replied, not wanting to say anything that Gloria might repeat to Roger. It was part of the way Gloria operated when she was in her matchmaking mode. Anything that might be fodder toward building their relationship would be passed along to Roger and then forwarded to Jake.
The remainder of Thursday and all day Friday passed in a frenzy of activity. Claire scheduled their witnesses to come in for last-minute briefings on Saturday. Lyle had split the list between the two of them. He was interviewing the witnesses that were more difficult to control. She had just walked into the reception area to get Marian Roseman when Jake walked into the office.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, walking toward him and impeding his further entrance into the waiting room.
“I wanted to see if you could go out this evening,” he answered loudly enough to gain Mrs. Roseman’s attention.
“You can go into my office, Mrs. Roseman. I’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Claire instructed the woman.
The two of them watched silently as the woman carefully folded the newspaper she’d been reading, placed it in a rack, and then slowly ambled toward Claire’s office.
“I’d rather not discuss my personal life in front of clients,” Claire admonished Jake as soon as the woman was out of earshot.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize the possibility of going somewhere with me this evening should be a secret,” he whispered, making her feel foolish for reproving him.
“It’s not that going somewhere with you is a secret. It’s just that I’m a rather private person. I don’t like everyone knowing my personal business,” she said in an attempt to make her remark seem logical.
“I’ll take that statement to mean we’re going out. Where would you like to go?” he asked, giving her a grin.
“I think you must have heard something I didn’t say,” she responded, returning his smile. “Honestly, Jake, I’m just too tired to go anywhere this evening, but thanks for asking. I’ve really got to get in there,” she said, pointing toward her office.
“How about tomorrow?” he persisted. “Can we go see Michelle?”
“I’ll give you a call if I think we can work it out,” she responded.
“Now there’s an answer that doesn’t tell me a thing. What does that
mean? If you think we can work it out?” he asked. “Why don’t you just give me a call and we’ll see if we can work it out.”
“Okay, okay. Now I’ve really got to get in there,” she told him, opening the front door in an attempt to hurry him along.
“I can take a hint—don’t forget to call me,” he said, once again swooping down and placing a kiss on her cheek.
Before Claire could say a word, he walked out the door. “I know, I know—don’t do that,” he called back over his shoulder, waving his arm in the air, the familiar car keys dangling from his hand.
The meeting with Mrs. Roseman had taken much longer than Claire anticipated. After an hour of talking with the woman, Claire was sure that Mrs. Roseman should have been on Lyle’s list.
“I just don’t understand how this can be happening,” the older woman once again insisted. “If my Donald were alive, he would have stopped this. You people would have never taken our land,” she avowed, her voice wavering, obviously close to tears.
“Mrs. Roseman, if you will listen very closely, I’m going to try and explain this once again. First of all, Mr. Johnstone is the attorney representing you; he is not attempting to take your land. It’s the Corps of Engineers that has filed the land condemnation action against all of the residents of Lyndon,” Claire began.
“The Corps of Engineers? John Ingmire said it was the government that was taking our land,” the woman immediately interrupted.
“The Corps of Engineers is a branch of the government, Mrs. Roseman. Because of the flooding that has occurred in this part of the state, the Corps of Engineers—or government, if you prefer—has decided that a dam needs to be built to control the possibility of flooding in the future. After several years of studies, they have concluded that the best possible site for the dam is along a line just to the east of Lyndon. This means that the whole community will be underwater once the dam is completed. In order to move forward with this project, it’s necessary for the corps—government—to condemn and purchase the property of you folks who were unwilling to make outright sales to them.”
A Trusting Heart Page 6