John Stone Law

by Dave Derin

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Skip,” I opened the conversation and sat down in the orange chair. “Destinee, if you would please bring your chair over here and join us, we can get started.”

  “Sure thing,” my mocha-skinned paralegal hopped up, slid her rolling chair across the floor, then plopped back down in her chair with a yellow lined legal pad and pen in her hand.

  “I don’t have any coffee or anything to offer you,” I apologized as I made a mental note to pick up a new coffee pot for the office.

  “Aw, don’t worry about it, John,” the white-haired gentleman replied as he removed his cowboy hat, sat down in the black rolling chair, crossed one leg over the other, and placed his hat on his knee. “I’ve had quite enough to drink already.”

  “Um, excuse me?” I looked up at him quickly and saw that he grinned at me from across the desk. He gave me a little wink and laughed at my shocked face.

  “I’m just messin’ with ya’ kid,” he guffawed, and his face flushed red, for once not because of the alcohol.

  “I certainly hope all you’ve had to drink this morning is coffee,” I chuckled and playfully rolled my eyes at him.

  “Scout’s honor,” he replied with a large grin, then held up three fingers in a Boy Scout honor code salute.

  “Alright,” I chuckled at his silliness. “Let’s get down to business.” I looked over at Destinee and saw that she sat very still, and her dark brown eyes darted back and forth between us. I hadn’t given her that much of a warning about what to expect with Skip, so I would talk with her later about the alcohol-related banter.

  I pulled Susanna’s case file from my desk drawer, opened it, and handed Skip the copies of important documents with the events’ timeline Destinee had prepared for the meeting. He took the file from me, removed a pair of reading glasses from his coat breast pocket, placed them carefully on the end of his nose, and quickly scanned through the documents.

  “Oooh hoo, so we’ve got Williamson as the judge?” Skip let out a little hoot and smiled at me from beneath his thick, white mustache.

  “We do,” I eyed him suspiciously. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Hell yes, it’s a good thing,” Skip said and looked up at us with a grin. “Augusta has been a good friend of mine since the 80s, not that it will make a difference to the case, but at least it’s not Hanson.”

  “What’s wrong with Hanson?” I asked and studied his wrinkled face.

  “Oh, nothing’s wrong with him, necessarily,” Skip replied and rubbed his fingers through his short, white hair. “He just hates my stinkin’ guts, so I wanted to make sure my presence wouldn’t jeopardize your strategy.”

  “Do I even want to know?” I raised an eyebrow at him and sighed audibly.

  “Nah,” he chuckled and shook his head at me. “A story for a slow day, perhaps.”

  “I look forward to it,” I smirked.

  “But in all fairness,” Skip continued as he rubbed his face where his scraggly beard used to be. “Augusta is a fine judge, in my opinion, so at least we have that in our favor.”

  “Alright, so let’s get you up to speed real fast,” I nodded at Skip then turned to Destinee. “Do you mind--”

  “Holy mother of Mary and Joseph, what is that?” Skip yelled, and I quickly spun around and saw his mouth gaped open as he pointed across the room with wide eyes at the spiny, orangish-yellow reptile who sat quietly on her carpeted perch and tilted her head at him.

  “Oh, that’s our official office mascot, Athena the bearded dragon,” I said casually before Destinee had a chance to react, then turned back to her. “Mind giving him a quick rundown of what’s happened so far?”

  “Whoa, now just wait one second,” Skip said loudly as he stood to his feet, and his black cowboy hat tumbled to the floor. “You’re just gonna gloss right over that and not explain why there’s a giant yella’ lizard sittin’ on a big ass carpet tree in your office?”

  I turned back and studied Skip’s shocked face while I grinned, “Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Gallant?”

  “A problem?” Skip rubbed the back of his neck while he monitored the motionless reptile. “It don’t bite, does it?”

  “No, she doesn’t bite,” Destinee finally interjected with a small giggle, then bounced over to Athena’s post, gently picked her up and placed her on her chest, then walked back over to Skip with an ear-to-ear smile. “Look, see? She’s really friendly. I promise.”

  “You aren’t afraid of a little ol’ lizard, now are you, Skip?” I teased the white-haired cowboy.

  “Me?” Skip replied with a tight voice but never took his eyes off the butter-colored lizard in front of him.

  “Anyway,” Destinee said with a grin, then returned to her chair with Athena perched on her small shoulder and reviewed the case file. “Mr. Stone met with the defendant in custody on Friday the sixth, she entered a plea of not guilty on Friday, July thirteenth, and Judge Williamson scheduled the preliminary hearing for Wednesday the first of August.”

  “Y’all’s arraignment was on Friday the thirteenth?” Skip let out a loud guffaw, scooped his hat up from the floor, and spun it in the air before he caught it and placed it on his head. “Woooo, you got some luck, don’cha kid?”

  “I know,” I let my head drop back as I let out a laugh. “Perfect day for my first solo flight, right?”

  “Couldn’t have picked a better day myself,” he chuckled.

  “So, the first indication I got that something wasn’t quite right was when my old buddy Roland Dodge called me the morning after the third bomb went off.” I relayed to my experienced new legal consultant the information Roland had given me, including the bit about the little green-haired lady that interrupted them. “We need to find her. She may be the only person that can place both Susanna and Roland in the plane’s restroom immediately before the explosion.”

  “Mmhmm,” Skip nodded then pulled a pen and small steno pad from his shirt pocket and wrote down a few notes.

  “Oh, her name is Myrtle Jones,” Destinee chimed in. “I have her legal address in the file.”

  “Perfect,” Skip replied and grinned at my efficient paralegal. “Thanks, kiddo. Let’s see if we can’t locate this Myrtle Jones and find out if she’ll come on in without a subpoena. Sometimes those little old ladies can be real grumpy when you interrupt their routine.”

  “Alright now, let’s not go calling our key witness grumpy or old, okay Skip?” I said with a half-smile while Destinee giggled uncontrollably at him behind her tiny hand.

  Skip gave my spunky paralegal a quick wink before he added with sincere eyes, “And I would know, I’m a grumpy old man.”

  We continued to chat about the case details and drew up a motion to request discovery. Both Skip and I reviewed Destinee’s pristine work, then we filed it electronically with the court, prosecution, and investigative agency.

  “Hey guys,” I glanced down at my phone and realized it was already 12:15 p.m., then stood up and stretched. “Susanna will be here for our meeting at one o’clock, and I was going to order us some lunch. What sounds good to everyone?”

  “I just can’t do anything with cheese,” Skip said as he held one hand over his stomach and frowned. “Damn lactose intolerance.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” Destinee responded bubbly. “I really eat just about anything, except for lamb or veal.”

  “How about Chinese?” I asked as I pulled out my phone and searched for the best-rated local delivery restaurant.

  “Oh, yeah. That sounds really good,” Destinee agreed. “You should order from Chef Wang’s, they’re the best.”

  “I absolutely agree,” I smiled then looked at Skip. “Chinese alright with you?”

  “Yep. Let me get some sweet and sour chicken with white rice and an egg roll, please and thank you,” the mustached gentleman replied, then looked back down and studied his file notes through the reading glasses on the end of his nose.

  “Sesame chicken and fried rice fo
r me,” Destinee replied, then slid her chair back across the room and began to type on her keyboard.

  “Sounds good,” I nodded and pulled up the number for Chef Wang’s. I placed an order for delivery and included a Mongolian beef dish for myself and an extra sesame chicken for Susanna. She’d eaten sausage gravy with her biscuits at brunch after her arraignment, so I hoped chicken would be alright.

  “It will be there in about thirty minutes. The delivery guy can take cash or card,” the hostess on the other end of the line replied after I’d given her the lunch orders.

  “Perfect, thank you,” I replied, hung up the phone, and moved to stand in front of my new legal consultant. “Alright, lunch will be here around 12:50. Is there anything else we need to discuss before Susanna gets here?”

  “Yes,” Skip replied, then removed his glasses and looked up at me. “We’ll need her to give us a minute-by-minute, or as close as she realistically can, of her whereabouts during that flight so that we can verify it with other passengers. Do they have video cameras on those airplanes now? I haven’t flown anywhere since the late 90s.”

  “Actually, yes, some of them do,” Destinee said with a nod, and her dark brown halo of curls bounced along with her heart-shaped face. “After 911 happened, a lot of airlines really cracked down on security, and in 2015 airlines received federal approval to record video inside their planes, so we could at least request any video or audio footage that’s available.”

  “That’s excellent, Destinee,” I replied. “I honestly wasn’t even thinking about interior video. Will you please take care of filing that specific request for discovery?”

  “Of course,” she nodded and jotted down a note on her yellow legal pad. “And you two are already planning to visit Ms. Jones, so I’ll make sure to add her to the witness list. Who else should we get witness affidavits from?”

  “All the other flight attendants,” Skip stated and stroked his white mustache. “John’s buddy Roland Dodge, as well. Is there any way we can get our hands on the passenger seating chart?”

  “I’ll work on getting that request for your review as well,” Destinee nodded as she stroked her yellow emotional support animal with her left hand and wrote down the note with her right.

  “Thanks, kiddo,” the white-haired lawyer said then stood up, placed his hands on his lower spine, and arched his back while he grimaced. “Oh, man, getting old sure does suck. Anything else we missed, John?”

  “The computer,” I replied suddenly and realized I hadn’t mentioned it yet. “Prosecution claims Susanna had a laptop, but she’s never seen it, so we need to dig into that. Destinee filed those specific requests already, so we should hopefully get a response soon.”

  “Got it,” Skip nodded. “What do they think is on the computer?”

  “No clue,” I responded and shook my head. “It was very vague. We also requested to have the alleged chemical traces be tested by a private lab. Do you have anyone you trust? The only folks I know are associated with Swinger, which isn’t a deal breaker, but if you know someone else we can go that direction instead.”

  “Actually, yes, I sure do know somebody,” the man’s wrinkled face spread into a smile as he leaned from side to side and stretched his back muscles.

  “Excellent,” I sighed with relief. “If you can just get Destinee their contact information, we can get started on that as well.”

  The newly installed bell at the front door chimed, and I turned to see a young, long-haired Asian man wearing dark wash jeans and a red polo shirt with Chef Wang’s logo on the chest. He began to walk toward me with a large white plastic bag in each hand.

  “Here, let me get that,” I said and jumped up to grab the food bags. I set them on my desk, then pulled out my wallet and handed the delivery guy my debit card.

  “Alright then, sir,” the black-haired man said with a surprisingly strong Southern drawl. “That total comes to thirty-three eighty-seven on your card here.” He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and ran the card through a small white attachment on his phone. He stared at the screen for a minute and waited for the payment confirmation before he looked up at me and smiled. “If you can just sign here for me, we’ll be all set.”

  “No problem,” I responded as I selected to give him an eight dollar tip, then signed my name and hit the confirm button. “Have a great afternoon, thanks again.”

  “You too, sir,” the delivery man said over his shoulder as he walked out of the new glass front door that no longer had graffitied plywood over one side.

  I unpacked the bags, handed Skip and Destinee their meals, and sat mine in front of my office chair. The front door chimed again, but this time I turned to see the angelic face of Susanna Jenkins. Her long, red hair was styled in mermaid waves that fell past her voluptuous breasts. She wore a fitted but conservative kelly green dress that flared around her knees and had flowy sleeves that were designed to reveal her delicate shoulders. Her black pumps accentuated her tight bottom and ample bosom, and the limp she’d had in the prison was not even noticeable now. The shade of her dress made her emerald green, cat-like eyes appear even more dramatic, especially since she’d fringed her eyes with makeup and expertly applied a deep red lipstick.

  “I hope it’s alright if I came a little early,” she said nervously and took a small step toward the three stairs that led to the main office space.

  “Of course it is,” I proclaimed with a smile as I bounded down the steps and offered her my right hand. She placed her small, pale hand in mine, and I warmly grasped it in both hands. “It’s so great to see you again.”

  “Well, it’s good to be here,” she said with a chuckle. “Ya’ know, alive and all?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said slowly as I turned and looked up at Skip and Destinee. “I’ll have to fill you two in on that whole situation.” They both gave me quizzical looks, then Skip looked over at Destinee who gave him an exaggerated shrug and grinned.

  “Alright then,” Skip replied as he stood up from the black office chair and came down the stairs to greet Susanna. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Skip Gallant, and I’ll be assisting Mr. Stone here with your case.”

  Susanna held out her hand and gave him a beautiful smile, “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Gallant.”

  “Oh, no ma’am,” he said then shook his head and gave her a charming grin. “Please call me Skip.”

  “Alright, Skip,” Susanna giggled. “So, should we get started?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” I replied, then led her up the stairs. “I’m sorry we don’t have much of a meeting area yet. I’m still working on the final touches of the renovation.” I pulled another old orange chair from the storage closet, and when I returned I found that Destinee had already offered Susanna her nicer black chair. “Thank you Destinee, that was very kind.”

  “Oh my goodness, who is that precious baby angel?” Susanna exclaimed as she walked toward Athena’s perch. Destinee had placed her in the small reptile hammock that was attached to the lizard’s perch, and Athena lazily opened her eyes and turned her face to the side to get a better look at the human that approached her.

  “That’s Athena,” Destinee’s face lit up when Susanna expressed genuine interest in her emotional support animal. “She’s a bearded dragon.”

  “Aww,” Susanna cooed then bent over to put her face closer to the yellow lizard. “She’s so cute.”

  “Isn’t she?” Destinee glowed with pride as Susanna fawned over her beloved cold-blooded companion.

  “Okay, I am so sorry, y’all,” Susanna apologized in her deep Texas twang as she strutted back to the table and sat down in the black chair Destinee had offered her. “I just love animals. I can’t help myself.”

  “That’s perfectly alright,” I smiled at her from my orange chair across the desk. “We’re all animal lovers here too.”

  “Apparently, we are,” the cowboy mumbled.

  I glanced over at Skip who looked down at the ground and fiddled with the edge of
his cowboy hat and chuckled to myself. He’d come around, eventually.

  “Before we get started, let’s have some lunch,” I said. “Susanna, I got you sesame chicken, is that alright?”

  “How did you know that’s my favorite, Mr. Stone?” Her eyes flashed bright green as she grinned at me.

  “Lucky guess, I suppose,” I smiled back and handed her the styrofoam tray of Chinese food and a package of plastic utensils that had come with it.

  “Thank you, this looks great,” she said when she opened the box and steam rose from the glazed chicken.

  We all sat around my rectangular oak desk and ate in silence for a few minutes before Susanna set her fork down and looked over at me with scared, round eyes.

  “So, I don’t know how all this works,” Susanna said as she crossed her long longs then adjusted her dress. “I’ve never even had a speeding ticket, much less had to meet with an attorney.”

  “That’s fine, Susanna. That’s why we’re here,” I replied calmly and set my fork down. “We’ll walk you through what to expect in court, what we’re going to expect from you as our client, and what you can expect from us as your legal defense team.”

  “Thank you so much,” she sighed with relief, then pulled her flowing, red mane across one shoulder and twisted the curly ends and started to ramble quickly. “I just have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know how they even tied my name up in all this junk. If Cooper is involved, and honestly I don’t think that boy is bright enough to pull something like this off, I gotta tell ya’, then I had no idea. Absolutely no idea. And this laptop? What the heck is that? I’ve never even owned a laptop before.”

  “Hey, it’s going to be alright,” I comforted my panicked client. “We’ve already submitted the requests to analyze that information ourselves using our own experts. Since we know you weren’t involved, they’ll have a very hard time placing your fingerprints on that laptop, regardless of what’s on the hard drive.”