J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die
Page 23
“Hey.” Michael put his hands in his pockets and walked toward her.
Jane thought he was a nurse at first, and then, when she turned away from the television screen, she realized who it was. Jane looked at Michael, and then averted her eyes, ashamed and guilty.
“Thought you might want an update,” Michael said.
Jane finally looked at him, and she nodded her head. She reached down. She found the cord with the remote attached to it. Jane pressed a button, and the television turned off.
“I’d like that,” she said. “Justin has been stopping by, telling me what’s happening, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
Michael took off his suit jacket. He laid it on a table, and then pulled a chair next to Jane’s bed. He reached out his hand. Jane hesitated at first, but, eventually, she took it.
“I want to hear every detail,” Jane said.
Michael nodded, and then told Jane about recalling their witnesses, Harrison Grant’s decision not to call anybody from Jolly Boy, and then their closing arguments.
“Is she happy?” Jane asked.
“Elana?” Michael thought about it. “I think so,” he said. “I don’t know how much she understands, but I think she’s glad it’s over.”
Jane took a breath. She closed her eyes, resting, and then opened them, again. She was tired and sad.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what I was –“
Michael cut her off.
“Forget about it.” He was about to continue when his cell phone rang.
He took the cell phone out of his pocket, and then Michael pressed the button to answer. He listened, and then turned off the phone after a quick conversation.
“The jury has a verdict.” Michael stood. “I’ve got to go.”
Jane nodded her head and watched him as Michael picked up his suit jacket. He slipped the jacket on, and then started walking out the door.
After a little struggle, Jane managed to sit up in her bed.
“Will I see you again?”
Michael stopped, and he turned back. He looked at Jane, and then shook his head.
“Probably not.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
What happened at the courthouse was surreal. The beginning was clear. It began like any other hearing, but then it dissolved into something different.
The people in the courtroom rose as the jury entered. The jury walked in a single file line behind the bailiff, and then they took their seats. They were the same seats where they had sat the entire trial.
Judge Delaney instructed the people in the courtroom to sit, and everyone sat.
He turned to look at the jury.
“Members of the jury, have you selected a foreperson?”
A mousy woman at the end of the row raised her hand, and Judge Delaney nodded at her.
“And have you reached a verdict?”
The mousy woman nodded her head again.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then please hand it to the bailiff.” Judge Delaney directed the bailiff toward the mousy woman, and she handed the verdict form to the bailiff.
The bailiff walked the verdict form to the judge. Judge Delaney looked down at the form. He read it silently, and then he handed it back to the bailiff.
The final dance continued as the bailiff walked the form to the court clerk, and the court clerk read the verdict aloud.
“In the matter of Thomas Estrada versus Jolly Boy Foods, Inc., we the members of the jury find in favor of the plaintiff, Thomas Estrada. We find the defendant, Jolly Boy Foods, liable in Count One of the Complaint: Wrongful Death …”
For Michael, it was at this moment that the lines and figures in the courtroom dissolved into splotches of color. The voices melded into waves of sound.
Michael felt a hand on his shoulder, a pat on the back. He looked at Elana, and she bowed her head and started whispering a prayer.
More noise and blurred movement of color occurred.
Michael looked over at the jurors, and they began to stand. The entire courtroom was standing, and so Michael stood without knowing why. He watched the jurors file out of the room. The sound around him grew and then faded, and then came back again, but none of the words made sense.
Moments later, Harrison Grant stood in front of him. His hand was out, and Michael shook it.
Harrison Grant spoke, but Michael didn’t understand anything except the word congratulations.
As Harrison Grant walked away, Michael took a step. He was unsteady at first, and then he regained his footing. Michael picked up his battered briefcase and walked down the aisle toward the back. His head and his thoughts became clearer with every step.
Had he heard correctly? The jury had disagreed with his proposal. Michael had asked them to take away one week of Jolly Boy’s profits. Instead, the jury had awarded Elana Estrada and her family two weeks of Jolly Boy’s profits: $28 million.
Michael saw Agent Vatch sitting by the door. He kept walking toward Vatch. His confidence came back.
Michael walked up to Vatch, and then crouched down so that they were eye to eye.
“Francis,” he said. “I’m going home.”
Michael waited for a response, but Vatch didn’t say anything. The look in Vatch’s eyes told Michael everything he needed to know.
“There’s no warrant, is there? There’s nothing you can legally do to stop me.”
When Vatch stayed silent, Michael nodded his head.
“I didn’t think so.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The day after the verdict, the sun peeked up over the horizon at 6:14. It was time to start working the fields. Some of the fields needed to be weeded where the machines couldn’t reach. Other fields had crops that were ready to be picked.
The Jolly Boy van arrived at the trailer park just outside Jesser. Usually there were 15 men standing at the side of the road, waiting for the van to arrive.
The driver stopped the van. He looked out the window at the trailers. The trailers were silent. There was no movement. The driver checked his watch to see if he was early, but he wasn’t early. He was right on time.
He honked the horn once, and then waited.
Then he honked the horn again, but nobody came.
This made him nervous, but he didn’t know what to do. So he continued to drive to the next set of trailers, but it was the same thing.
No workers were waiting. Nobody came when he honked his horn.
He took out his cell phone and he called his supervisor. He was instructed to go to the Home Depot. There were usually 50 Mexicans waiting to be picked up to do gardening, roofing, and other odd jobs in the area.
The driver started the engine and drove away. He got onto the highway, and then drove to the Home Depot as instructed.
When he arrived, the driver was relieved to see that there were still about two dozen men waiting there for work.
He pulled into the parking lot and stopped near the group of men. A few of them stepped forward. They started to get into the back of the van, when one of them stopped and asked where they were going and what they were going to do.
The driver told them that they were going to weed and pick.
“For who?” one of the men asked. The driver told him that they were going to work for Jolly Boy.
The men shook their heads, and then they all walked away.
The driver yelled, “What’s going on?”
One of the older workers looked at him with a hard stare.
“Nobody’s going to work for Jolly Boy today.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
The party started in the afternoon, but it was clear that the odd collection of characters that resided at or near the Sunset Resort were going to stay at the bar all night.
Michael watched as Pace and the other kids on his soccer team took turns whacking a piñata. Then after the piñata cracked and candy spilled all over the floor, Michael walked over to Elana and he put his arm around her.
Kermit shouted, “Speech! Speech!” And the room grew quiet.
Michael raised his glass.
“I just want to say that I missed you all while I was gone, and I’m glad to see that our little slice of paradise is as weird and as unprofitable as ever.”
Cheers erupted from the crowd that had gathered.
“We left to fight for Tommy Estrada and his family. We filed a lawsuit to get justice.” Michael looked at Elana, and she smiled back at him.
“We won. Elana and her family are going to have a better life, and I couldn’t be prouder to have played a little role in that. So cheers.”
Glasses throughout the bar raised in congratulations, and then the music was turned back on. Michael gave Elana another hug, and as he let her go, Michael saw a familiar face standing in the back corner. It had been well over a year.
His heart started to pound. He wasn’t prepared. He wanted to pretend that he hadn’t seen her and leave, but, they had made direct eye contact. He couldn’t ignore her.
Michael walked over to Andie Larone.
He looked down at his feet like a school boy with a crush.
“Hey,” he said. It was all that he could manage.
“Hey,” she said.
Michael looked up. She was still as beautiful as ever.
“It’s been awhile.”
Andie nodded.
“I know.”
“You here for a few days or. …” Michael’s voice trailed.
“I don’t know,” Andie said. “Depends a lot on you.”
THANK YOU FOR READING “NO TIME TO DIE”
LOOK FOR THE THIRD BOOK IN THE SERIES
“NO TIME TO HIDE”
COMING THIS WINTER
Contact J.D. TRAFFORD at jdtrafford01@gmail.com
Follow J.D. Trafford on Twitter: @jdtrafford
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I know that acknowledgments can be a little like reading the transcript of a bad Oscar acceptance speech, so I’ll keep this short. This is a book of fiction. Jolly Boy and the town of Jesser only exist in my head, but the issues related to immigration and how food goes from farm to table are real. I did research and drew upon the research of others in creating this fictional story, but in the end, this is fiction and I changed geography, science, law, and anything else necessary to further this story. As an attorney, I constantly feel compelled to create disclaimers on everything I do or say. This was my attempt at a disclaimer.
If you’re interested in immigration and food issues, I recommend that you read Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser; Tomatoland by Barry Eastabrook; and The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Although I recommend reading these books, it doesn’t mean that I adopt any viewpoint expressed in them so don’t write me hate letters one way or the other.
I also thank all the readers who contacted me about the first book in this series and wanted to read more about the Sunset Resort, Michael Collins, and Kermit. A big thanks goes out to Amy and Judith for being beta-readers and making this story stronger. I will call upon you again in the future. Have no doubt.