“One article isn’t going to do that, but it will plant a seed I can water when the case ends up in the courtroom.”
“We have a long way to go before that day. And now we have Judge Perry standing in our way.”
“Trust me. I’ve known Cecil for years. I can guide him down the right path.”
Roxy returned to her office in a state of shock. During her entire time at the firm, she’d been mentally preparing for the rejection she knew might come. The sudden possibility of grabbing the gold ring of success didn’t seem real.
Sitting in front of her computer screen, she pulled up the firm’s internal directory and calculated the chance an associate with her years of experience had of achieving partnership status. There were over two hundred lawyers who had been with the firm the same length of time as she had. None of them were partners. That meant she was up for promotion in the first batch of her class. It was stunning.
She then spent over an hour analyzing the track records of a select group of younger partners. It was an amazingly diverse yet brilliant group. It shocked Roxy to think she might be joining them. She wanted to call Peter with the news but decided it would be best to tell him in person.
CAN WE MEET THIS EVENING? she texted him. I HAVE BIG NEWS.
WHAT’S IT ABOUT?
LATER.
8 AT THE TEAHOUSE ON PONCE DE LEON?
GREAT.
The teahouse was a former private residence converted into a boutique watering hole. The rooms were set up with a few tables in each one, so the number of competing voices would be limited. It was a great place to talk.
Roxy found Peter with a small china teapot in front of him at a table in the corner of a former bedroom.
“How long have you been here?” she asked as she slid into a chair. “I’m not late, am I?”
“No, they just brought it out. I thought you’d want something with low caffeine, so I asked for coconut pouchong.”
Roxy poured a cup of the slightly sweet tea made from long green leaves, then took a sip. “Perfect,” she said.
She took another sip that tasted even better than the first. The tea shop was truly half a world away from the sticky sweet iced tea brewed in Alto.
“What’s your news?” Peter asked. “Is the firm considering you for partner status?”
Roxy almost dropped her cup. “How did you—” She stopped. “Did someone performing a background check already contact you?”
“Is that a possibility?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “It’s an international law firm. You’re not going undercover with the CIA.”
“You’re right. That won’t happen, but how did you guess?”
“Just piecing together what you’ve said about your interactions with Mr. Caldweller over the past few months. He respects you. If you’ve gone to that level with him, the next step logically follows.”
Roxy told him about the conversation. “I’m still not sure what to think,” she said when she finished.
“It’s a tough decision,” Peter replied slowly.
Roxy was puzzled by his tone of voice. “What do you mean?”
Peter tilted his head to the side and studied her for a moment. “Whether or not you’re supposed to become a partner. It’s one thing to work as an employee. You’re an outsider. If you become a partner then you’re more closely linked with the personality and character of the firm. You have to decide if Frank and Donaldson is enough like you that it makes sense for you to become part of them.”
“Are you saying that because I might have to leave Atlanta?” Roxy asked, bristling. “Our relationship is a huge deal to me, and I don’t—”
“I know,” Peter interrupted. “But I’m thinking on a different level. Can you really see yourself treating people the way Mr. Caldweller has treated you?”
“It’s toughened me up.”
“Sure, but what’s excited me recently is watching you soften.”
Roxy’s eyes watered. “If you’re trying to make me cry again, it’s not going to happen,” she responded, even as her voice trembled slightly.
Peter refilled her teacup. As he did, Roxy focused on his hands. They were rock steady, and he didn’t spill a drop. But more importantly Peter knew how to hold her heart.
“Okay,” she said. “That’s a base level question I need to be brave enough to ask myself. But if they offer me partnership status and I turn it down, I will probably have to leave the firm. If that happens, I’ll have to start over someplace else.”
“That’s what you’re doing anyway, isn’t it? In areas of your life that are at least as important as where you work.”
“You’ve lost me.”
Peter pointed up. Then he took out his phone and showed her a picture he’d taken of Roxy, Ray, and her father standing in the kitchen at Ray’s house.
“So not only do I have to deal with Mr. Caldweller, I also have to please God and make my family love one another?”
“Yeah,” Peter replied with a smile. “And throw making me happy in there too.”
Roxy took a sip from her cup. “This is good tea, but to do all that I may need something with more caffeine.”
Ray was worn out. He’d talked to four chemists, all of whom were evasive about the connection between 2,4-D and non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He’d exchanged e-mails with two professors with multiple PhDs who claimed to be experts in just about anything that had been developed by Western civilization since Galileo, and a Harvard graduate who promised she could bring a high level of pathos and sympathy to her courtroom testimony about chemical compounds. The retainer fees ranged from two thousand to twenty thousand dollars, all nonrefundable.
“Did you see the article on the front page of the newspaper?” Cindy asked as soon as he walked through the door.
“No.”
She pointed to the paper that was lying on the kitchen table. Ray picked it up and read the headline.
LOCAL ATTORNEY FILES LAWSUIT TO SHUT DOWN COLFAX FERTILIZER PLANT
“What?” he blurted out.
“Keep going,” Cindy replied flatly.
Ray couldn’t believe the alarmist spin Cecil Scruggs placed on the case. The reporter’s emphasis wasn’t on the sick boys, but on the number of jobs that would be lost and the devastating effect on the local economy if Colfax curtailed or ended its operations. But the worst part was a reference to Ray.
Former Assistant District Attorney Raymond Gage has joined forces with his father’s firm and will be actively involved in the case. Upon learning about this development, District Attorney Steve Nelson expressed concern that confidential information obtained by Gage during his time at the DA’s office has been improperly utilized in the civil case. Nelson is exploring the need to file a complaint with the State Bar of Georgia and the State Attorney General’s Office.
“This stuff from Steve Nelson is ridiculous!” Ray cried out.
“If someone knows the truth,” Cindy replied. “How many people would that be? Maybe five?”
“And the reporter gives no context for why the DA’s office was involved in the first place. Judge Ellington found Colfax criminally liable for damage to the environment. That’s not mentioned.”
“Did you finish the article?”
“No.”
Ray turned to the interior page where the article continued. Included was a paragraph about abuse of the legal system by plaintiffs’ lawyers filing spurious lawsuits, and a quote from Guy Hathaway at Colfax. Hathaway said he couldn’t comment specifically about the allegations of the lawsuit, but revealed the company might open a plant in Honduras, which would lessen the need for the Rusk County facility.
Ray closed the paper and tossed it onto the table. “That couldn’t have been worse if it had been written by the marketing department at Colfax.”
“No kidding. I’ve already had one call from a friend whose husband works there, asking why you and your father would try to bring down the company and throw a bunch of people out of work.”
�
��Who was it?”
“I’m not going to say because I don’t want you to get mad at her. But if one person called, you know a bunch more are thinking the same thing.”
“Yeah,” Ray sighed. He told her about the loss of Dr. Westbrook and his daylong efforts to find a replacement.
“We need to pray about this,” Cindy said.
“I already tried that,” Ray replied. “And things have gotten worse, not better.”
Corbin left the office ignorant of the contents of the newspaper article he had hoped would be discussed around dinner tables all across town. The Rusk County jury pool was about to be contaminated, not educated. Stopping at the grocery story, he passed a sales box for the local newspaper and bought a copy. He stood outside and read it as the door automatically opened and closed for people entering and leaving. As soon as he saw the headline, Corbin forgot about buying groceries, returned to his car, and called Ray.
“Yes, I read it,” Ray said as soon as he answered the phone.
Corbin was so mad he could barely talk. “When I get my hands on Cecil Scruggs, I’ll squeeze his scrawny neck until his head pops off!”
“I don’t doubt you would,” Ray replied. “And they’d add murder to your DUI charge.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“And I’m not laughing,” Ray said. “It took Cindy thirty minutes to calm me down, and I’ve had more time to digest the news than you have. There’s no doubt Ben Hixson gave Scruggs his marching orders and told him the angle to take.”
“The publisher? He lives in Birmingham. His company owns scores of these local rags all across the South.”
“Yes, and there’s got to be a money reason behind what he’s doing. Maybe Colfax donates fertilizer to Hixson’s favorite golf course.”
“I’m still not in a joking mood.”
“Look, at least it happened early in the litigation. There will be time for people to forget the article by the time the case comes up for trial. We know where we stand and can be careful. No more interviews.”
“If the paper has an agenda, they won’t let people forget about it. And it won’t matter if we keep quiet. They can continue to spew propaganda and make it impossible for us to stay in town. If a lie is repeated often enough, people begin to believe it. Our business depends on folks trusting us.”
Ray was silent and Corbin knew he’d raised a point his son hadn’t considered.
“And how do you think the Kilpatrick family and Millie Watson feel right now?” Corbin continued.
“I called them and they’re coming to the office first thing in the morning to talk things over.”
“Are you going to try to convince them to drop the case?” Corbin bristled. “I refuse to be bullied!”
“That’s not my decision.”
“And I don’t want you in the meeting!”
Ray was silent again. “That’s your call too,” he said softly. “Bye.”
Corbin threw his cell phone down on the passenger seat. He should have known that poking Colfax would produce a hornets’ nest reaction that wouldn’t be limited to what happened in the controlled environment of the courthouse. But he didn’t need Ray running for cover at the first sign of battle. Corbin started the car’s engine.
He needed a drink.
FORTY-TWO
Roxy was sitting in her living room with her shoes off listening to music when her phone lit up. She pulled out her earbuds and answered the call.
“What’s up?” Ray asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Only if it’s good.”
“I think it is. You’ll have to decide.”
She started telling him about the partnership opportunity with the law firm. A few sentences into the conversation, she realized how hard it must be for Ray to absorb her news after watching his own future blow up in his face.
She cut it short. “That’s it.”
“Congratulations,” Ray said, without any hint of jealousy. “I’m sure you’ll nail the interviews and get the offer.”
“If I do, I’m not sure I’ll accept.”
“What? Why would you turn them down?”
“That’s harder to explain.”
As she told him about what had been going on in her personal life, Roxy felt her tongue loosen. Some people would have preferred a face-to-face conversation, but she felt more comfortable talking over the phone about her emotions and the new thoughts that had entered her world.
“That’s amazing,” Ray said when she finished. “I wish Mom could hear you.”
The tears that had launched numerous unexpected assaults on Roxy over the past weeks climbed over the wall and attacked once again. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.
Ray continued. “And I believe there’s a good chance she did. She’s part of the ‘cloud of witnesses.’ ”
Roxy’s lower lip trembled. “What do you mean?” she managed.
“It’s a verse in Hebrews,” Ray said, “about our running our earthly race, surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who’ve gone before us. I’m not sure if it’s selective or general, but I’d like to think they are able to somehow enjoy our earthly triumphs.”
Roxy nodded her head even though Ray couldn’t see her. “I hope so too,” she said. She grabbed a tissue from a container beside the couch, wiped her nose, and added it to the small pile at her feet.
“I had another reason to call,” Ray said. “It has to do with the case Dad filed against Colfax.”
Roxy wasn’t surprised to hear that the wheels had fallen off the lawsuit before it left the garage. “Better to cut and run now,” she said.
“He’s not going to do that, at least not without an opinion from a bona fide chemist. I spent all day trying to track one down who could give us trustworthy guidance, and came up empty. Do you have any recommendations for an expert witness service you trust or suggestions that will point me in the right direction?”
“Logistics like that are handled by our clients or a subgroup of the firm in our LA office that performs the kind of background check you did on this Westbrook character. But I can’t ask them to work on a case for another law firm. Like all of us, their time is scrutinized under a microscope.”
“Okay. Dad is meeting with the plaintiffs in the morning. He doesn’t want me in the room because he’s afraid I’ll pour cold water on the case.”
“It needs an ice bath.” Suddenly Roxy had an idea. “Ray?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a chemist in Chicago who might be able to help. I interviewed him recently as a shadow expert in a big case. Maybe I can talk to him off the record for a few minutes. Isn’t the compound you’re focused on a relative to DDT?”
“Yes, it’s called 2,4-D; it’s also a cousin to Agent Orange that the military used for defoliation in Vietnam.”
“Can you send me the data from the attorney general’s investigation?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“What is the next step you want to take?”
“Test the water in the wells for the families with the sick children.”
“Who’s going to run the test? What’s the protocol?”
“We don’t know.”
Roxy rolled her eyes. Ray wouldn’t last thirty seconds in a strategy session with Mr. Caldweller.
“I hate to waste a call with the chemist,” she said.
“I could send water samples along with the information from the AG’s office,” Ray offered hopefully.
“You want me to ask the guy in Chicago to run the tests?”
Ray didn’t answer, and Roxy was silent for a moment. Her old level of compassion for her brother when he was in a tight spot resurfaced.
“I get it,” she said. “You’re desperate and need my help.”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Ray said defensively.
“I do,” Roxy replied. “I’ll try to reach him in the morning. And I’m not going to hold it over you when I’m finished. Those days are behind
us.”
Corbin sat in his car but didn’t leave the parking lot. He watched people enter and exit the grocery store. One large man came out with a big smile on his face and a twelve-pack of beer in each hand.
“Somebody’s having a party in the middle of the week,” Corbin muttered.
He started the car’s engine and turned onto the main road through town. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but knew at some point The Office tavern would be on his itinerary. His early morning effort to drag Max Hogan out of the pit of AA failure now seemed utopian. He stopped at a red light and noticed that his hands shook slightly if he took them off the steering wheel.
His phone vibrated. When the light didn’t turn green, he picked it up.
“Thanks for answering,” Jimmy said. “Have you gotten the shakes yet?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Then the answer is yes,” Jimmy replied. “After I got your message about driving a stake in the ground at the AA meeting this morning, I knew the counterattack would come soon.”
“It’s been a rough day on several fronts,” Corbin replied.
The light changed, but instead of continuing, Corbin pulled into a nearby parking lot for the convenience store where he often bought beer. The owner kept the coolers as close to freezing as possible, and the effect on the beer boosted business.
“Where are you now?” Jimmy asked.
Corbin told him. “But I just stopped here so we can talk.”
“Lock the doors.”
Feeling silly, Corbin obeyed. “Done.”
“What’s Step One?” Jimmy asked.
“We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.”
“Does that seem more true now than it did this morning at the meeting?”
“Yes,” Corbin admitted. “Because I’m alone.”
“Corbin, you’re not alone,” Jimmy replied. “I’m here on the phone, and God is there with you. What’s Step Two?”
A House Divided Page 30