Tides of Truth [02] Higher Hope

by Robert Whitlow

  “Do you have a lawyer?”

  “The best.”

  “Who is it?”

  “The Lord Jesus Christ.”

  Julie stifled a laugh. I didn’t turn around, but I knew Brenda Abernathy was furiously scribbling on her PDA.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Judge Cannon replied dryly. “The last person who made a statement like that is in the Georgia State Penitentiary. If you’re ready to proceed, come forward to the other table.”

  I could see Sister Dabney out of the corner of my eye as she lowered herself slowly into one of the chairs. I expected her to have notes or papers with her, but the table was bare. She didn’t even have a Bible.

  “And who else is present?” the judge asked.

  “Brenda Abernathy from the newspaper,” the reporter answered.

  “Is there any legal reason why the press should be excluded from this hearing?” the judge asked.

  I leaned over to Julie. “What are the legal grounds to keep her out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Could we wait for Mr. Carpenter to address that issue on behalf of the plaintiff, Your Honor?” I asked. “Ms. Feldman and I are primarily here to observe.”

  “Very well.” The judge turned to Sister Dabney. “Ms. Dabney, do you have any objection to Ms. Abernathy’s presence?”

  “It’s what she does when she leaves that may be the greater sin.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  In my mind I could see every word spoken by Sister Dabney repeated in an article in the newspaper. The back door of the courtroom opened. It was Mr. Carpenter and Jason Paulding. Mr. Carpenter’s face was as flushed as Sister Dabney’s when she arrived.

  “Sorry, Your Honor,” the senior partner said as he walked up the aisle. “My car blew a water hose a few blocks from the courthouse.”

  “Do you need a few minutes to prepare or are you ready to proceed?” the judge asked.

  “Just a moment to get situated. Our proof is attached to the motion for summary judgment.”

  “I reviewed the motion in chambers before coming into the court-room. While you get organized, I have some questions for the defendant. Ms. Dabney, did you receive a copy of the motion?”

  “Yes.”

  “Under the law you have a right to file a written response. Do you want to do so?”

  “I can speak about it today.”

  “Does that mean you waive or give up your right to delay the hearing to a later date so you can file something in writing?”

  “The truth won’t change with the passing of time.”

  “Are you ready to proceed today on the issues presented in the motion?”

  “I don’t see any reason to put it off. Justice should be done speedily.”

  “I wish more lawyers agreed with you,” the judge replied wryly. “Given your statement, I’ll allow Mr. Carpenter to go forward with his motion. After he presents his case, you can offer your evidence and any argument you deem appropriate.”

  “Will I be able to question Mr. Paulding?” Sister Dabney asked.

  The judge turned toward us. “Is this your client?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mr. Carpenter answered. “A comprehensive affidavit by Mr. Paulding is attached to the motion. I didn’t intend to offer any testimony from him.”

  “I’ll allow the defendant to question him. Also, there is a member of the press present. Is there any reason why this hearing should not be open to the public?”

  Mr. Carpenter glanced over his shoulder. I leaned closer to him.

  “It’s Brenda Abernathy, the one who is writing an article about Sister Dabney.”

  “No objection on behalf of the plaintiff,” Mr. Carpenter said.

  “Ms. Abernathy may remain in the courtroom. You’re the moving party, Mr. Carpenter. I’ll hear from you first.”

  Julie and I sat at one end of the counsel table. The senior partner stood and positioned his body so the judge didn’t have Sister Dabney in his line of sight. It was a subtle move consistent with Mr. Carpenter’s attention to every detail. Since no jury was present, he spoke in a conversational tone. I’d heard it all before in bits and pieces, but having it laid out like a story was effective. I found myself wondering why on earth, or in heaven, Sister Dabney would speak ill of Jason Paulding. Not only was it unreasonable, it was a malicious verbal assault on another human being.

  “Ms. Dabney is the minister of a church,” Mr. Carpenter said, gesturing toward her for the first time. “She, above most people in society, should consider the effect of her words and actions. There is a responsibility that comes with a position of influence. This woman has abused that responsibility to an extreme degree, and we’re asking the court to hold her responsible for her actions.”

  Mr. Carpenter then laid out the factual and legal basis supporting the motion for summary judgment. I knew this part of his presentation would be strong. As he went through the deposition testimony, I pretended to be Sister Dabney’s lawyer and tried to figure out a way she could wiggle out of the multiple admissions of liability. I considered several possibilities, but nothing workable came to mind.

  “Judge, you also have the affidavit of Mr. Paulding, prepared by Ms. Taylor, one of our summer clerks.”

  I blushed, embarrassed that Sister Dabney knew I’d played an active role in the attack against her. Julie gently nudged me with her toe under the table and curled her hand up like a cat’s paw. Mr. Carpenter didn’t read the entire affidavit, only the parts that addressed the issue of damages. As I listened, I realized Sister Dabney could still attack the damages model Mr. Carpenter was presenting. The money Mr. Paulding claimed he’d lost because of her actions was speculative. I quickly formed several questions in my mind that would under-mine our case. I was in the midst of my imaginary cross-examination of our client when Mr. Carpenter finished and sat down. The judge finished taking a few notes and turned toward Sister Dabney.

  “The defendant may proceed.”

  Sister Dabney braced herself against the arms of the chair and pushed herself to her feet.

  “Judge, do you know the story of David and Uriah the Hittite?”

  “No,” the judge said.

  Sister Dabney faced the judge. “Then I’ll tell you. Uriah was one of King David’s mighty men. While Uriah was off fighting, David seduced Uriah’s wife, then arranged for Uriah to be put in the worst part of a battle where he was killed. David thought he’d gotten away with adultery and murder, but a prophet named Nathan came to David. The prophet told King David a story about a rich man who was having a meal with friends. The rich man owned a large herd of sheep, but instead of cooking one of his own, he took a poor man’s only sheep and fed it to his guests. Nathan used that story to confront David about what he’d done to Uriah. What do you think about that?”

  “Ms. Dabney, the purpose of this hearing is not to tell me a Bible story or ask me questions. This is your opportunity to respond to the motion for summary judgment.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Do you know the legal significance of the motion?”

  Sister Dabney squinted her eyes slightly. “If you grant the motion, then I might owe Mr. Paulding a lot of money.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Would that be just? Isn’t Mr. Paulding like the man in the story? He owns property all over Chatham County, yet he’s trying to take the parcel of land I’ve dedicated to the Lord and his work. He’s trying to take the only little sheep I have. I want to give him a chance to repent and stop what he’s trying to do.”

  “I’ll treat that as a motion to dismiss.” The judge turned to us. “Mr. Carpenter, having heard from the defendant, are you prepared to voluntarily withdraw the motion?”

  “No, sir. We believe the motion is both just and supported by the law and the facts.”

  The judge looked at Sister Dabney. I could see Brenda Abernathy furiously making notes.

  “Is there anything else you want to offer by way o
f defense?”

  “I want to ask Jason Paulding some questions.”

  “Very well. The witness will come forward and be sworn.”

  Mr. Carpenter leaned over to Paulding and gave him last-minute instructions that I couldn’t hear.

  The judge spoke. “Ms. Dabney, I will give you latitude in your questions, but I ask you to respect the dignity of the court.”

  “Paul respected the Sanhedrin. I can do the same.”

  Julie leaned over to me and whispered, “That’s a Jewish council. I learned about it at synagogue when I was a kid.”

  “It’s in the New Testament, too.”

  “Really?”

  The judge administered the oath, and Paulding sat in the witness chair. He tried to look relaxed and confident, but I knew he had to be nervous. I would have been terrified.

  “Please state your name for the record,” the judge said.

  “Jason Paulding, president and CEO of Paulding Development Corporation.”

  “Ms. Dabney, you may proceed.”

  My chair was positioned so that I had a clear view of Sister Dabney.

  She was staring straight at Paulding, who shifted in his chair.

  “Did you know the truth can either set you free or condemn you forever?” Sister Dabney asked.

  The witness glanced at Mr. Carpenter, whose face didn’t move a muscle.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking me,” Mr. Paulding answered.

  “If you confess your sins and admit the truth, there is hope you might find mercy.”

  Mr. Carpenter stood. “Objection, Your Honor. That was a statement, not a question.”

  “He’s right,” the judge said to Sister Dabney. “You have to ask questions.”

  “Have you talked to your pastor about this court hearing?”

  “No.”

  “Did you talk to your wife about it?”

  “Yes. She knows I’m here.”

  “Did she know where you were and who you were with in Las Vegas last July?”

  “I was on a business trip with two members of the board of directors of my company.”

  I held my breath, waiting for Sister Dabney to list specific details that would cause Mr. Paulding’s face to turn ashen. The woman preacher stared hard at the witness for a few moments.

  “Even if I don’t know everything, you can’t hide from the Lord,” she said.

  “Objection,” Mr. Carpenter said.

  “Sustained. Ms. Dabney, remember to ask questions.”

  “What about the man from Miami who loaned you money after you came back from Las Vegas?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “He met you at the airport in Savannah and gave you a brown briefcase filled with one-hundred-dollar bills.”

  Mr. Paulding’s mouth dropped open. Mr. Carpenter stood.

  “I know,” the judge said before the lawyer could state his objection. “It’s not a question. Sustained.”

  “What did you do with that money?” Sister Dabney asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Did you leave the airport with a man in a red car?”

  “I know a lot of people with red cars.”

  “And did he take you to a meeting where the money was divided up with other people?”

  “Since I don’t know what you’re talking about, I can’t answer.”

  “Was there a man from Chicago at that meeting?”

  “I know several people from Chicago.”

  Mr. Paulding shifted in his chair and looked up at the judge. “May I speak with Mr. Carpenter?”

  “I know the man’s last name,” Sister Dabney continued. “It’s Laramie.”

  The judge ignored Sister Dabney and spoke to the witness. “Unless legal grounds exist, your attorney is not allowed to advise you while you are subject to cross-examination.”

  “Your Honor, if you could grant some leeway,” Mr. Carpenter interjected. “This is not a typical proceeding. I won’t overstep the proper bounds in advising my client.”

  The judge looked at Sister Dabney. “Do you object to Mr. Carpenter speaking with his client?”

  “They can talk, but it won’t change the truth.”

  The judge stood. “Court will be in recess for five minutes. After that, I’ll expect both parties to move forward expeditiously.”

  Mr. Carpenter met Mr. Paulding halfway between the witness stand and the table where Julie and I sat. The two men stepped to the side and put their heads together.

  “What do you think Paulding did with the money in the brief-case?” Julie asked. “Do you think it was marked by the FBI in advance?”

  “What?”

  “Use your imagination. That’s what the crazy woman at the other table is doing.”

  Sister Dabney was sitting with her eyes closed. Mr. Carpenter listened to Mr. Paulding, who was talking rapidly. I glanced back at Brenda Abernathy. She had a smile on her face. Whoever lost at the hearing, the reporter won.

  “Something’s going on,” I said to Julie, gesturing toward Mr. Carpenter and our client.

  “Yeah, he wants to know how long the judge is going to let her do this. I think she’s just getting warmed up. Once she gets really delusional, this could go on for hours.”

  Mr. Paulding rubbed his forehead while he listened to Mr. Carpenter. The judge returned to the courtroom.

  “Return to the witness stand,” the judge said.

  Mr. Carpenter stepped between Mr. Paulding and the judge.

  “Your Honor, at this time we withdraw our motion for summary judgment.”

  Julie gasped.

  “Does this mean I can’t ask any more questions?” Sister Dabney said.

  “Correct,” the judge answered crisply. “The moving party has the right to withdraw the motion prior to entry of an order. The case will be placed on the civil trial calendar. This hearing is adjourned.”

  Judge Cannon left the courtroom. Mr. Carpenter came over to the table. Mr. Paulding walked briskly past us toward the back door.

  “Mr. Paulding, I have a few questions,” Brenda Abernathy called out.

  “No questions,” Mr. Carpenter said, holding up his hand.

  Mr. Paulding kept going without looking back. Sister Dabney pushed herself up out of the chair. Her expression didn’t reveal triumph.

  “Take the file back to the office,” Mr. Carpenter said.

  “Should we wait for you?” I asked. “Your water hose broke.”

  Mr. Carpenter looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

  “Right. Jason is calling someone to pick him up.”

  Sister Dabney approached our table. Brenda Abernathy positioned herself directly across the bar from us. Sister Dabney stopped and instead of looking at Mr. Carpenter, directed her attention at me. I swallowed.

  “It wasn’t revelation,” she said. “Don’t ever claim God is speaking when the information comes from a natural source.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, my mouth dry.

  “Do you know what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  Sister Dabney sniffed the air. “You still don’t smell like smoke. His hand is on you.”

  She continued past us. Brenda Abernathy blocked her way.

  “Reverend Dabney, tell me more about the suitcase of money at the airport and the name of the man from Chicago.”

  “You have to know the right person and ask the right question.”

  “Who is that person?”

  “Not me. Out of my way. I’ve got the Lord’s work to do.”

  The old woman brushed aside the reporter and walked slowly from the courtroom.

  “I’m going to run an article,” the reporter said, stepping closer to us. “If you want a chance for your side of this to be heard, now is the time to make a statement.”

  Mr. Carpenter looked at her with steely eyes. “Ms. Abernathy, my client isn’t a public figure. Unless you want to take Ms. Dabney’s p
lace as the defendant in a libel case, don’t print anything you can’t prove is true.”

  32

  JULIE AND I LEFT THE COURTHOUSE WITH MR. CARPENTER, WHO didn’t say a word until we were outside.

  “Courthouse hallways have hidden ears,” he said. “We’ll debrief at the office.”

  No one spoke during the short ride back to the office.

  “Meet me in the main conference room in five minutes,” the senior partner said.

  Julie and I went to the library.

  “What just happened?” Julie asked. “You’re the expert. Enlighten me.”

  “Mr. Carpenter dismissed the motion for summary judgment.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Mr. Carpenter was the one who talked to the client. He’ll tell us if he wants to.”

  “Maybe, but Dabney was giving you the winks and nods, and spouting secret religious lingo that has to mean something.”

  I didn’t want to speculate with Julie. “Sister Dabney is like any-one. There are layers to her.”

  Julie sniffed. “And all of them are filled with fruits and nuts.”

  WE WAITED IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM for Mr. Carpenter. It was the place I’d first met Jason Paulding. The painting of the antebellum Savannah waterfront hadn’t changed during the past few weeks, but Paulding’s dispute with Ramona Dabney had morphed several times. Vince opened the door and stuck his head inside.

  “I saw you come in the building.”

  “Mr. Carpenter dismissed the motion,” Julie answered. “We’re waiting for him now.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Mr. Carpenter appeared at Vince’s shoulder, brushed past him, and closed the door in his face.

  “What did Dabney mean by her comment to you?” he asked me before sitting down.

  “Which one?”

  “About her source of information.”

  I’d had time to think about Sister Dabney’s words while in the car. I spoke deliberately. “I’m not one-hundred-percent sure, but I don’t think God supernaturally told her in a dream or vision about Paulding getting a suitcase of money at the airport. Someone she knows provided that information.”

  “Do you think you could find out who it is?”

  “The only way would be to ask Sister Dabney.”