Tides of Truth [02] Higher Hope

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Tides of Truth [02] Higher Hope Page 16

by Robert Whitlow


  “Mr. Appleby and I had a meeting with a client at the harbor, but our main contact is sick and had to cancel. I just got back.”

  “So, I have to go to lunch with Vince,” I replied miserably. My woes poured out. “And I can’t go to supper with you because Mrs.

  Fairmont’s daughter won’t let me have the evening off. Then you’re going to be mad at me because when you check your computer, you’ll find an e-mail from Mr. Carpenter ordering you to supervise Julie and me in Paulding v. Dabney. I only suggested it because Mr. Carpenter was going to tell Ned Danforth to do it, and Julie had a run-in with Ned. I don’t want to know the details, but it happened on Ned’s boat, and if it was bad enough to upset Julie, it must have been horrible.”

  The door opened and Vince entered.

  “Hey, what’s this I hear about Tami teaching you calf roping?” he asked Zach, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “It wasn’t calf roping,” I answered. “A calf escaped from the pen and had to be caught before it got into our garden.”

  Zach’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I wasn’t teaching Tami anything.

  It took me a couple of days to stop calling a steer a cow.”

  Vince spoke. “Listen, Tami and I are going to grab a bite to eat.

  Would you like to come along?”

  My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t imagine being caught like a wishbone between the two males.

  “Go ahead,” Zach said. “She and I will talk later. We have a new case to discuss.”

  Zach left, leaving me wondering what he really thought. I picked up my purse.

  “Where would you like to go?” Vince asked. “How about the place on West Oglethorpe Street?”

  The first time Vince and I went to lunch he took me to a fancy French restaurant in the historic district. Since I was now courting Zach, it wouldn’t be right to make him pay for an expensive lunch.

  “How about the deli on the river?”

  “Okay, I haven’t been there in a while.”

  We left the office and got into Vince’s car, a new BMW. He turned his head to back up. Vince had brown wavy hair and brown eyes that were both intelligent and kind. My eyes moved to a scar on the back of his right hand, the result of a severe burn caused by a careless lab mate in a high school chemistry class. At first I’d felt sorry for Vince when I saw the scar. Then when I heard the story and learned that forgiving the other boy had been a key part of Vince’s spiritual journey, I considered the scar a badge of God’s grace.

  We parked near the river. It was a short walk across uneven cobble-stones that had originally served as ballast for sailing ships coming to the New World. We ordered our sandwiches and found a table in the corner of the restaurant.

  “I should tell you about my weekend,” I said. “I invited Zach—”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “But I should—”

  “Try to relax. Look, I know Zach is interested in you. You’re such a great person.”

  “I’m not a great person.”

  “I didn’t say perfect, although you’re trying hard to be that, too.”

  I smiled.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  A waiter brought our food. Vince took a bite of his sandwich.

  “Do you know one of the main reasons I took the summer job here in Savannah?” he asked.

  I didn’t know how many offers Vince had received. As a top student at an Ivy League school, he could easily have had ten jobs on the table.

  “It’s close to your home in Charleston?”

  “That’s one. But I also had a sense from the Lord that I would meet someone this summer who would be an important part of the rest of my life.”

  I forgot to chew the bite I’d just taken. Then I was immediately thankful that a mouthful of food gave me an excuse not to say any-thing. One thing was clear. Vince wasn’t referring to Mr. Braddock.

  And if Vince’s unidentified person was me, Julie was right. The law clerk from Yale wasn’t going to leave a bouquet of flowers at Mrs.

  Fairmont’s house and retreat from the field of battle.

  “Do you believe God draws people together?” he asked in a casual manner that made my head spin.

  “That’s what I’ve been taught,” I managed as I finally swallowed my bite.

  “That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is your family doing?” he continued.

  “Okay. I mean, things don’t change much in Powell Station.”

  Vinny sipped his drink.

  “I’d like to visit there someday.”

  The prospect of returning to Powell Station with a different man made my head spin again. The expression on the twins’ faces when we walked through the door would be priceless; however, the look on Mama’s face would be less valuable.

  “I’m not sure when I’ll go back,” I answered lamely. “Probably not until it’s time to return to school.”

  Vince changed the subject and began asking questions about a re-search project he was working on that involved competing liens against manufacturing equipment. I’d already written a couple of memos on the topic, but it was hard to find the principles in the fog he created in my brain. Somehow I made it through the rest of lunch.

  While we drove back to the office, I tried to get a grip on my situation. I wasn’t a foreigner to competition. I’d played four years of high school basketball, and there was rivalry among students at the law school. But I’d never been the object of romantic competition. In fact, I’d never had much hope for one romance, much less two. Vince held the door open for me at the office. I made my way back to the library. Julie was at a worktable. She glanced up when I entered.

  “Are you still mad at me?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Good. I can always count on you to forgive me.”

  I sat down and turned on the computer. The answer to my dilemma wouldn’t be found in case law.

  “Well, did you let him down easy or hard?” Julie continued. “Easy takes a skill that most girls don’t have. If a woman can dump a guy and make him like it, she’s destined for politics. Hard gets the job done, but there’s usually blood on the floor.”

  “There wasn’t any blood on the floor. We ate at the deli down near the river.”

  “Vinny likes that place. He’s taken me there twice.”

  “He has?”

  I turned in my chair so I could see her.

  “Yeah, but it’s always to pump me for information about you. When I first met him, I thought he was a dud whose passion would be Article 9 of the Uniform Commercial Code, but he’s pursued you as if he was preparing for the LSAT.” Julie paused. “I have a friend in Atlanta who might be perfect for Vinny. She’s tall like you and doesn’t have much experience with guys. She graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Agnes Scott and reads French novels in the original language. Vinny’s brown wavy hair and brown eyes would go great with her. She’s a dirty blonde. I could invite him to come home with me on a road trip and set them up on a blind date. They could jabber in French, and no one else would have a clue what they were saying.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s still interested in me.”

  Julie stared at me. “Don’t tell me you led him on.”

  “He wants to meet my family.”

  “You’re kidding. Is that legal in your religion? You know, to date two guys at once.”

  “No.”

  “That’s reassuring.” Julie rolled her eyes. “But why would Vince beat himself up like that? And don’t you think Zach will put his foot down?”

  “Vince doesn’t seem to mind. Zach’s reaction is up to him. Maybe he’ll be supportive.”

  Julie rubbed her temples with her fingers. “Does either Zach or Vince own a gun?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because I need to blow my brains out. A brain is optional for some
one spending the summer with you.”

  14

  AN HOUR LATER, I PRINTED OUT FOUR PAGES OF INTERVIEW questions for the Dabney case and handed them to Julie. She quickly read them.

  “This could take a couple of hours to go through with each per-son,” she said. “How many names do we have?”

  “About fifteen or twenty.”

  “And why is all this information in here about you and me? It sounds like a feature article on female law clerks for the human-interest section of the Savannah newspaper.”

  “I want the witnesses to be comfortable with us before getting into the real issues.”

  “That will happen when they look you in the eye and see that you’ve never sinned or had a wicked thought.”

  “What about you?”

  Julie batted her eyelashes. “A couple of those will take care of the men. I’ll leave the women up to you.”

  “How many of the questions do you want to use?”

  Julie flipped through the pages again. “Here’s a good one: ‘Tell us what Ramona Dabney said to you about Jason Paulding or any other employees of Paulding Development Company. Get specific dates if possible.’ That goes to the heart of the issue.”

  “I still think we need a way to get into the interview gradually without being so direct.”

  “You don’t do that by talking about us. The best way to convince people to open up and trust us is to ask them to talk about them-selves. Everybody loves telling their story.”

  “Let’s call a few witnesses,” I suggested. “You do it your way; I’ll do it mine.”

  “You’re on.”

  Julie and I divided the list. There was only one landline phone in the library, so Julie used her cell phone.

  “Should we leave a message if no one answers?” I asked.

  “Sure. Just don’t tell them why you’re calling, or we could tell them they may be prizewinners in a sweepstakes and need to call back and claim their prize.”

  “No way.”

  “I agree. I was just making sure you’re still opposed to deception given the web you’re weaving around Zach and Vinny.”

  I made a face. “Zach and Vinny are both winners.”

  “Very clever.”

  After three more unsuccessful calls, I began to wonder if we would interview any witnesses within the time deadline set by Mr. Carpenter.

  Julie wasn’t having any success either. I punched in another number.

  This time someone answered. My heart immediately sped up when I heard the man’s voice.

  “Is this Bernard Miller?” I asked, double-checking my notes.

  “I reckon so, except nobody calls me that except for my mother, and she’s been dead for over ten years. My name is Sonny. Who is this, and how did you get my phone number?”

  “I’m Tami Taylor.” I answered the first question and ignored the second. “I’m working this summer for Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter.”

  “Is that the plumbing supply company on Forsyth Avenue?”

  “No, sir. It’s a law firm.”

  “And you’re a lawyer?”

  “I’m a summer clerk, not a lawyer.” I glanced down at my list of questions. I’d already gotten off track. “I’m investigating a case. Do you know Ramona Dabney?”

  “Sister Dabney at the church over on Gillespie Street?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’? It makes me sound like you’re trying to sell me something, and I don’t have two nickels to rub together.”

  “I’m being polite. Would there be a convenient time to meet with you so I could ask some questions about Sister Dabney?”

  “Meet at a convenience store?”

  “No, I mean a good time to talk in person.”

  “We could meet at Bacon’s Bargains. It’s at the corner of Maxwell Street and Caldwell Road near the secondhand furniture store owned by Mr. McDonald.”

  I had no idea about the location, but I knew someone in the office would be able to point me in the right direction.

  “That’s great. What time?”

  “About one thirty. Make sure you bring a twenty-dollar bill with you.”

  “Why do I need to bring twenty dollars?”

  “That’s how much I charge lawyers to talk to me.”

  “You charge to answer a few questions?”

  “Isn’t that what lawyers do?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll try to bring the money. How will I recognize you?”

  “Don’t worry. From the sound of your pretty voice, I’ll be able to pick you out of the crowd that hangs out down there.”

  “There will be another woman with me.”

  “Sounds good. Should I bring a friend?”

  I felt my face flush.

  “Just joking with you, sweetheart,” the man continued. “But I could see if Sister Dabney wants to come along. I need a new pair of shoes, and she always keeps a pair my size at the church. It’s not easy finding shoes that fit a fellow with real narrow feet.”

  “No, don’t bother her. Let’s start with you.”

  “Okay. Don’t forget that twenty dollars. There are a couple of bottles waiting for me to rescue them from the shelf at the store.”

  The thought that the law firm might help fund a wino’s habit made me uncomfortable.

  “And you’d better bring another twenty, too,” he said.

  “Another twenty dollars?”

  “Yeah, I need to make a payment on my cell-phone bill so you can call me anytime you want.”

  “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. See you at one thirty.”

  I hung up the phone. Julie was staring at me.

  “You’ve only talked to one witness, and you’re already buying testimony?”

  I told her the rest of the conversation.

  “That makes perfect sense,” Julie said when I finished. “But there’s one thing that puzzles me. Isn’t it odd that Sonny Miller has a cell phone and you don’t?”

  WE SPENT THE NEXT HOUR on the phone. Julie connected with three people. Two of them refused to talk as soon as she mentioned Ramona Dabney. The third, a businessman who owned an electrical supply company that had sold products to Paulding Development Corporation, agreed to meet with us on Wednesday.

  “That’s the kind of witness we need,” Julie said as we updated our list. “It would be good if we could include a count in the complaint for tortious interference with a business relationship. That’s much better than whining about hurt feelings.”

  There had been a section in Julie’s research paper about business claims. I couldn’t remember the details.

  “What did the man say?”

  “That after Dabney talked to him, he didn’t ship a large order requested by Paulding’s company.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “We’ll find out when we talk to him, but it sounds like Dabney dug her nails into the guy’s tender flesh until he screamed. If Paulding had to pay more for the same items from another supplier, it would prove financial injury.”

  I looked at the clock.

  “Should we check with Zach? He ought to know what we’re doing on the case.”

  “And about other things, too.”

  “I’m going upstairs to his office,” I said, ignoring the dig.

  “And I’ll keep working the phones,” Julie said. “You don’t want me around making sure you’re honest.”

  I saw Gerry Patrick at the top of the stairs. She waited for me.

  “Mr. Carpenter asked Zach to supervise Julie and me in a case,” I said when I reached her.

  “Did Zach tell him that the two of you are spending personal time together?”

  “I’m not sure they talked in person. Mr. Carpenter was going to send Zach an e-mail about the case.”

  “Zach isn’t my responsibility, but I want you to keep me informed.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ms. Patrick descended the stairs. As I watched her, I tried to figure out why
she was being so harsh. I’d made mistakes early in the summer but thought those blunders were behind me. The door to Zach’s office was closed. I knocked.

  “Come in,” he said.

  He was sitting behind his desk, facing his computer. A file folder was open on his left.

  “May I interrupt?” I asked.

  He swiveled in his chair. “Yes.”

  “Did you receive the e-mail from Mr. Carpenter about Paulding v. Dabney?”

  “Not yet. Tell me again what he told you this morning.”

  I repeated the gist of the meeting, briefly mentioning Julie’s aversion to Ned Danforth. Zach pushed his chair away from his desk.

  His face had a seriousness I’d not seen before.

  “I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to be dragged into that case. I have plenty of work to do, and keeping you and Julie out of trouble was more than I needed on my plate.”

  “Julie and I aren’t getting into trouble,” I answered sheepishly.

  “But you will. And if Ned Danforth harassed Julie, it should be brought to Mr. Carpenter’s attention. The firm doesn’t tolerate that kind of behavior, which is a lot more serious a problem than Gerry Patrick getting all worked up about you and me.”

  There was a ping on Zach’s computer.

  “Here it is,” he said, spinning his chair to the side. “Mr. Carpenter has officially made me the designated driver in your case. He wants me to review your progress on a regular basis and prepare memos to keep him informed of my opinion.”

  “Are you really mad about it?”

  “I’ll do my duty. Bring me up to speed. Tell me what you and Julie have planned for Reverend Dabney.”

  A lump of guilt lodged in my chest. Zach made notes on his computer while I talked. He didn’t approach Myra’s speed, but his fingers rapidly tapped the keys.

  “That’s not the best part of town,” he said when I mentioned the rendezvous with Sonny Miller at Bacon’s Bargains.

  “I’ve already set it up, and we’re under a lot of time pressure from Mr. Carpenter.”

  “Let me check my schedule to see if I can come along.” Zach stared at the screen for a moment, then looked at a note on his desk. “I can’t go, but you should be okay at that time of the afternoon, especially if you and Julie stick together. Just don’t get into any arguments with the witness. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, move on.”

 

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