“I know,” Ray said forlornly. “I should have shut my door before talking to Nate. It was a stupid move on my part, but Steve’s reaction was way out of line. That’s what makes me suspect he wanted to get rid of me anyway.”
“Are you sure you didn’t do something wrong?”
Ray put down his cup. “That sounds like something Roxy would ask me.”
“Sorry.” Cindy got up and put a piece of bread in the toaster. “I’m craving anything I can slather with strawberry jam. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch yesterday, and you know I’m not a huge fan of peanut butter.”
Ray rinsed his cup at the kitchen sink and put it in the dishwasher. He felt Cindy’s arms around his waist and put his hands on top of hers.
“I’ve got your back,” she whispered in his left ear. “Also, if you ever compare me with Roxy again, I’m going to bite off your ear.”
Ray laughed and turned around to kiss her.
“No more Roxy comparisons,” he said. “I promise.”
“Are you going to check on your dad?”
“I don’t know. An evening trapped in the ER with him was enough father-son time for a while. I’ll check with Janelle later in the day and see how he’s doing.”
“And don’t forget we’re going to have to talk to him about Billy,” Cindy said. “As much as I want them to have a good relationship, there have to be limits.”
“I said enough last night to get him thinking.”
“To mean anything, those thoughts had better turn into actions.”
Corbin slammed shut the door of his office and plopped down in the chair behind his desk. He needed a drink. He pulled open the lower drawer, then remembered he’d finished off the bourbon the previous day right before Millie Watson showed up. He closed the drawer and continued to fume about Roxy, Janelle, and everyone else lined up against him.
He glanced down at the legal pad on top of his desk and saw the information he’d taken from Millie. Underlined at the top of the sheet was the young woman’s cell phone number. He stared at it for several seconds, then picked up the phone.
“Millie,” he said when the young woman answered the phone. “This is Corbin Gage. Have you left yet for your meeting with Mr. Bartlett?”
“No.”
“Great. Don’t go to Gainesville. Come see me instead.”
“What about Mr. Bartlett?”
“I’ll take care of it. What time can you be here?”
“Uh, about thirty minutes. But it’s not just me. The Kilpatricks are coming too.”
“Even better. Bring them with you.”
“But . . . you can see us right away?”
Corbin glanced down at his calendar. It was depressingly empty.
“Yes, I’ll be able to work you in as soon as you get here.”
He hung up the phone. Colonel Parker would never let a big case escape to another lawyer. Corbin canceled the appointment in Gainesville. Then he set down the phone and reality set in.
The responsibility for helping two cancer-stricken boys and their families was about to wrap itself around his soul.
SIXTEEN
Corbin lay low in his office and didn’t tell Janelle what he’d done. Normally he’d ask her to prepare contracts and medical release forms for the clients to sign at the initial meeting. But he’d reached his limit of pushback from the secretary. He wasn’t going to let her roll her eyes again and pretend to be protecting him. So instead he did some quick reading on the Internet about possible links between fertilizer and cancer.
There were as many divergent opinions as there were experts to give them. Rather than discouraging him, this made Corbin confident there might be a case. One of the major hurdles in toxic tort litigation is surviving a defendant’s motion for summary judgment designed to end a lawsuit before it has the chance to reach a jury. Differing opinions about causation create issues of fact that juries, not judges, have to decide.
The phone on his desk buzzed.
“Why are all these people here to see you?” Janelle asked in an intense whisper. “There’s not an empty seat.”
“I’ll be right out,” Corbin replied.
He straightened his tie and pressed down one corner of the bandage covering the cut on his face. Walking into the reception area, he didn’t have to look at Janelle to know she was scowling at him.
“Good morning,” he said to the group. “Just to let everyone know, I cut my face yesterday while dragging my fishing boat out of Braswell’s Pond. I’d been fishing with my grandson. Let’s talk in the conference room.”
The conference room was on the opposite side of the reception area from his office. Because he was avoiding Janelle, Corbin hadn’t prepared it for the meeting. There were several law books on the table and sheets of paper strewn about. He began to clear off the table.
“Sit anywhere you like,” he said. “Does anyone want a cup of coffee or glass of water?”
Millie asked for a coffee with cream and sugar, Branson wanted a black coffee, and Branson’s son, Tommy, requested coffee with sugar. Corbin scribbled the orders on a legal pad.
“Are you going to charge us anything to meet with us?” Larissa asked nervously in a slow Southern twang.
“No, no,” Corbin reassured her. “And the drinks are on the house too,” he said with a smile. “This is a time for us to get together and talk a bit about what’s going on with the boys and a possible connection between their illness and Colfax. I’ll ask a few questions, listen to you, and let you ask me anything you want. You’re under no obligation to hire me. I’ve known Branson for many years, and he can vouch for me.”
Corbin left the conference room with the drink orders. He marched across the reception area toward Janelle with the sheet of paper in his hand.
“Don’t start,” he said as her mouth opened. “Here are their drink requests. Is there a pot of coffee brewing?”
“Yes,” Janelle replied crisply. “But no decaf.”
“Uh, I think everybody wants regular.”
Janelle glanced at the sheet of paper. “What about Branson’s daughter-in-law?” she asked.
“Sure, get her one too. It’ll do her good. She’s nervous.”
“She should be,” Janelle replied.
Corbin ignored the dig and spun around on his heels. Back in the conference room, he sat at the head of the table.
“Let’s get started,” he said. “First, is it okay if we meet as a group? I’m sure there are facts common to both situations, but you have to consent to a joint meeting.”
The Kilpatrick clan quickly agreed.
“It’s okay with me,” Millie said. “But do I need to ask my husband?”
Corbin remembered that her husband was in jail for a DUI. “As Josh’s mother you can act on his behalf,” he assured her.
He began collecting information and was busily taking notes when Janelle appeared with the coffee.
“This is my legal assistant, Janelle Griffin,” Corbin said as she distributed the drinks. “We’ve worked together for over twenty years. She answers the phone, and if I’m not available she can take a message. I try to return all calls within twenty-four hours.”
Janelle rolled her eyes then left the room, taking her negative vibe with her.
“How do you feel about going up against Colfax?” Tommy asked. “They pretty much run this town.”
“I’ve never represented Colfax and never will, no matter what they offer to pay me,” Corbin replied. “And everyone walks into the courthouse through the same door.”
Corbin then told the group about the criminal case he’d observed and the dead fish in Braswell’s Pond. When he finished, Millie Watson was wiping her eyes with a tissue, and Branson Kilpatrick scowled with barely concealed fury.
“That’s horrible,” Millie sniffled. “If the poison they’re dumping in the water is killing fish, then think about what it’s doing to my Josh—”
“I’m not telling you about that to upset
you,” Corbin said in a reassuring tone of voice. “It may not be related, but enough circumstantial evidence can lead to a causal connection. In virtually every case like this, the key is opinion evidence from expert witnesses.”
“It’s a good thing nobody from Colfax is in this room,” Branson said, biting off his words. “I’m not sure I could hold myself back.”
Corbin had never seen Branson so mad. But if Billy were as sick as Mitchell, Corbin would feel the same way. However, he didn’t want the meeting to overheat with emotion.
He kept his voice calm. “As I said, we’ll have to hire scientists who can review the evidence and tell us if what Colfax did made the boys sick.”
“Who’s going to pay for that?” Tommy asked.
“We’ll have to talk about it. No attorney fees are charged in a case like this unless money is paid by the defendant company or its insurance carrier, but the out-of-pocket costs of litigation are ultimately your responsibility.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Tommy shook his head. “I looked at the website for the law firm we were going to see in Gainesville. They didn’t say anything about us having to pay for anything, and they claimed to know a bunch of experts who worked specially with them on cases.”
“I guarantee you they would tell you the costs of litigation are handled differently from attorney fees,” Corbin replied.
“You paid for me to see a doctor when I busted up my leg in the motorcycle wreck,” Tommy said. “And you didn’t charge me for the doctor’s deposition until we settled up with the insurance company. What’s changed since then?”
Corbin pushed his hair away from his forehead. Tommy was right. When Corbin had represented him almost a decade earlier in the personal injury case, it made sense to advance the cost of a medical evaluation and deposition because it significantly increased the potential return.
“I remember that, but this is going to be on a much bigger scale, and we could be looking at thousands and thousands of dollars to do this right.”
“That’s a deal breaker for us,” Tommy said. “We don’t have that kind of money.”
Millie Watson just looked bewildered.
Backed into a corner, Corbin could feel the opportunity to handle the cases slipping away. He waited for Branson to speak up, but the landscaper remained silent.
“Tommy, I tell you what,” Corbin said. “Because I’ve known you and your family for so many years, I’ll agree to advance the cost to investigate the cases. All I’ll need is a signed contract hiring me as your lawyer and agreeing to pay me back if it turns out we have a case and win. The same goes for Millie.”
Tommy looked skeptical. “Dad, what do you think?” he asked his father.
“I’m mad enough about what’s happened to do something I’d regret, and I think Colfax should be held responsible. But none of us has any extra money to spend on a lawsuit. Corbin, if you’re willing to take on the company, then I’d recommend they let you do it. But you’re going to be on your own financing this thing. It’s like when I bid on a landscaping job. When I set a price, I have to follow through even if there are a bunch of rocks I didn’t know about hiding beneath the surface. There are going to be rocks down this road, and you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with them.”
Any hope that Branson would help defray the litigation costs was gone, leaving Corbin caught like a bass on a treble hook. This was a huge decision, one that could ruin him financially. He put his hands together on the table in front of him.
“Branson, you remember Colonel Parker, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“He used to say a lawyer afraid to take a risk to help a client should hang up his shingle and sell life insurance.”
Corbin made eye contact with each person in the room. “I’ll fund the case,” he said. “You deserve someone who’s willing to fight for your boys.”
Roxy slipped her cell phone into her purse. Maybe the blow to her father’s head had done some good. Convincing him not to take on a high-risk, prohibitively expensive litigation against Colfax hadn’t been as hard as she expected. The bigger challenge would be forcing him to realize he needed to let Ray loose so he could fly on his own. The thought that her brother might end up trapped in the same office as their father sent a shudder down her spine.
She got off the elevator. Her first stop was the desk of Mr. Caldweller’s legal assistant.
“How’s he feeling?” she asked.
“Ask him yourself. He’s been here for over an hour, buzzing me every five minutes wanting to know if you’ve arrived yet.” The light on the assistant’s phone lit up. “That’s him,” she said.
“Tell him I’m on my way.”
Roxy made her way to the senior partner’s office, a long room that featured an expansive plate glass window with a panoramic view. Mr. Caldweller was typing on his keyboard when she appeared in the doorway. He motioned for her to enter.
“Good morning,” she said when he turned his chair away from his computer. “I’m glad you’re doing so much better.”
“Antibiotic injections are miracle drugs. Once it hit, I came out of the cave in a hurry.”
“That’s great. I remember once—”
Caldweller interrupted her. “I checked my inbox this morning and didn’t see a memo from you about your meeting with Dr. Sellers. I need it ASAP. I’ve scheduled a conference call with the client for ten o’clock. It’s the only time we could get all the decision makers on the line at once.”
“I’m still working on it,” Roxy replied numbly. “It’s number one on my to-do list.”
Caldweller gave her a steely look. “Are you suggesting I cancel the meeting and tell the client it’s because my associate didn’t do her job?”
“I wrote part of it while waiting for the plane in Chicago and during the flight. I didn’t know you’d need it so soon . . .”
“And you didn’t finish it when you got home? What about first thing this morning?”
Roxy felt trapped. To unwind the previous night, she’d stayed up and watched TV for over an hour. And of course she’d gone for her usual early morning run before coming into the office.
“I should have done it,” she said. “There’s no excuse.”
“It’s a question of priorities, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She looked at her watch. Just past eight. “What if I have something on your desk by quarter past nine, then debrief you from nine thirty until time for the call? Will that work?”
“It’s going to have to. And it had better be good. I don’t want to dodge a question.”
“Since I met with the expert, do you want me to participate?”
“No. You’ll find an assignment on your desk that I want you to work on for the rest of the day.”
Roxy walked rapidly to her office, where she took thirty seconds to see what the new job involved. If Caldweller expected her to complete it before leaving the office, it would be a long, long day.
Summoning every available brain cell into action, she dived into the memo for the ten o’clock conference call—thankful as always for her machine-gun speed on a keyboard. Locating a law firm to help the people with the claim against Colfax dropped off her mental radar.
There was lightness in Corbin’s steps as he left the office and walked down the sidewalk. As people and cars passed by, he savored the secret knowledge that he was about to unleash a legal maelstrom that would rip from one end of the community to the other. Those who’d written him off as a washed-up old plaintiff’s lawyer would have to reassess his premature demise.
His feet headed in the direction of Red’s Restaurant, but when he reached the corner to cross the street, he hesitated. He wanted to celebrate, but guzzling a glass of mountain water didn’t seem the proper way to do so. He needed to be mentally sharp. Turning around, he retraced his steps to a soup and salad place where Kitty had liked to eat. As he munched on a fresh cucumber, he wished he could tell her about the new cas
e. She would have approved—of both the case and his choice of eating place.
SEVENTEEN
Ray tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he drove to his lunch meeting with Nate Stamper. He saw his father enter the soup and salad place and honked the horn, but Corbin was already through the front door.
Ray continued past the city limits to the Rusk County Country Club, a nine-hole golf course with a small restaurant in the clubhouse. Ray had only eaten there a handful of times. He parked beside Nate’s new Lexus and went inside.
Nate was coming out of the bar with a mixed drink in his hand. “Do you want anything?” he asked, raising his glass.
“No, thanks.” Ray would have welcomed a soothing glass of wine, but he’d promised Cindy he’d never drink during the workday.
“Thanks for agreeing to get together on short notice,” Ray said, trying to sound casual. They sat down at a table for two. “Before we talk about anything else, I wanted to pass along some news directly before you hear any rumors.”
“Is it about you getting fired?”
Ray swallowed, but his mouth was dry. “I knew word would get out quickly, but not that fast. How did you find out?”
“A client told Mr. Simpkin but didn’t have any details. What happened? Tell me you didn’t make a huge mistake.”
“No mistakes. Steve gave me the boot because he found out I was talking to you about a job. He considered it a breach of loyalty.”
Nate grunted. “I think that’s just an excuse to bring in someone else.”
“I agree. Anyway, I wanted to see if we could move up the timetable for the transition to your firm. I know you said the partners would discuss it the first of the month—”
“And you’d like to be able to tell your wife you have a job and won’t have to file for unemployment,” Nate cut in with a smile.
“Yeah.” Ray gave a nervous laugh.
A waitress took their lunch order, but Ray kept his eye on Nate, who took a sip of his drink.
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