by Dave Daren
I made it home, though I could barely remember the drive, and I tumbled into bed after a brief stop in the bathroom. But I was too excited to do much sleeping, and the sun was still low in the sky when I made it to the office. A box of papers was tucked under my arm, and I held my phone cradled between my shoulder and my ear as I fumbled for my keys.
“I know we had some contacts in the area, but there has to be someone closer than Austin, doesn’t there?” I grunted out the question as I managed to unlock the front door.
The first thing on my to-do list that morning was simple. I needed to find someone to help me take on this case, since it was just too much work for one person alone, and I still needed to find someone that understood class action law a bit better than I did.
Clara already spent much of the night before, and a good portion of the morning, sending me the contact information for all the residents in the neighborhood after I delivered my good news. I couldn’t even begin to imagine where she’d gotten the time to put it all together, but I knew this couldn’t be a one-man job.
And so, I called my former boss. I worked under Jerry Yates all five years I’d put in at the Maricopa County Public Defender’s office in Mesa and despite my departure, we were still on good terms.
He was a good man, the sort of man who thought he could change the world with what he did. He also seemed to know everyone on God’s green Earth. Or, at the very least, he knew everyone in God’s green Texas.
I heard Jerry shuffle through a stack of papers at the end of the line. When he spoke up, his voice sounded far off, like he’d moved away from the receiver.
“Well, up in Austin, Thomas, you remember Thomas, don’t you?” Jerry asked, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise before he continued to ramble. “Well, he and his wife relocated there a few years ago. Maybe he was before your time, now that I think about it...”
Jerry paused, and I heard more rustling. His desk had always been a cluttered mess, and apparently, that hadn’t changed.
“Do you remember Evelyn?” His voice came through much louder, like he’d moved closer to the phone.
I pursed my lips. Evelyn? The name rang a few bells, but I couldn’t put a face to it. I nudged the door to the practice closed as I stepped inside. I kept my phone tight to my ear while I dropped the box of papers onto my desk.
“She was a… paralegal, right?” I questioned. “Worked at her husband’s firm? I thought she was closer to the border.”
“Evelyn Jones, she and her husband worked together at Jones, Regis, and Stern,” Jerry confirmed. “They both retired about two years back. They were located out of El… Paso? El Paso, right. But, Frank, God rest his soul, passed a year ago. You might have some luck bringing her back into the game now that he’s gone.”
I listened as Jerry started to rifle through what I could only imagine was a mountain of papers.
“I’ve got her new address around here, somewhere,” Jerry said as his voice drifted away again for another few seconds. “Marnie wanted to send her flowers after she moved. She and I miss having you over for dinner. Marnie, I mean. She and the kids are doing great. We’re actually thinkin’ about trying for a third, can you believe that? Three kids! On my salary!”
Jerry’s voice wore thin as he chattered on, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was in a bit of a rush. I leaned against my desk and tapped my foot as I listened to Jerry fumble through his office. He’d been unorganized for as long as I’d known him, but it never stopped him from winning the cases that needed winning.
“Anyway, I’ll send her address your way,” he finally continued. “Glad to hear you’re doing well, Archer. We really miss you up here, so if you ever start missing your civil servant paycheck, there’s always a place for you here.”
I chuckled but didn’t tell him it was because I already missed my civil servant paycheck.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Jerry, and give Marnie my love,” I laughed as Jerry spouted off a few more of his own goodbyes.
I exhaled hard as I lowered my phone from my ear. That conversation had been more than a little exhausting, but then again, talking to Jerry was always a little exhausting. I glanced down at the screen to see a new email notification. Jerry must have sent me Evelyn’s new address before we hung up the phone.
I didn’t remember much about Evelyn, but I figured it was still in my best interests to make the quick trip up to Fort Worth to try and convince her in person. And after the phone call filled day I’d already had, I was more than happy to give an in person visit a try.
I pasted the address from the email into the GPS on my phone to map the distance. Evelyn Jones lived only twenty-five minutes from my office. Hell, if traffic let up, she only lived a brisk twenty-one. I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was only ten a.m. which meant if I left now, I wouldn’t get caught in the lunch rush.
I nudged my phone into my pocket and set out of the office toward my car. I slipped into the driver’s seat, snapped my seatbelt into place, and queued up the GPS. Evelyn lived in Tanglewood, a nice little neighborhood that, according to my email from Jerry, was only ten or so minutes from the Fort Worth Zoo. I turned up the radio and cranked the air conditioning as I settled in for my drive to Tanglewood.
The trip was quiet, and I spent most of the time watching the low hills and trees pass by. I’d spent the first part of the drive trying to come up with the words to convince Evelyn to come work for me, but I’d given up on that project when I realized I really had nothing to offer besides a chance to work again.
As I pulled into the turn lane for the last leg of my journey, a new song came on the radio and my turn signal blinked in time with the music. It was just a random Top 40 hit that broke through the static of the radio station, but the fact it clicked in time with the beat filled me with the same sort of happiness some people probably felt when they saw rainbows or 11:11 on the clock. It felt like a good omen. I shifted in my seat with one hand on the steering wheel and the other out the window as I made the turn.
I gave a small, two fingered wave to the car exiting the entrance to Evelyn’s neighborhood as I pulled in, and then I slowed to a crawl as I drove down the wide street. The contrast between Tanglewood and Piney Crest was like night and day. While the sun pounded down on Piney Crest, Tanglewood was practically lush in comparison. Trees lined the yards, and the sidewalks were smooth and uncracked.
A woman decked out in yoga gear jogged past as she pushed a baby stroller along with her. She smiled and threw her hand up in a small wave in my direction. I offered a smile of my own and raised my hand out the window in acknowledgement. This looked like the sort of place a person would go to raise a family, or in Evelyn’s case, the sort of place a person would go to retire in peace.
I slowly pulled into what I hoped was Evelyn’s driveway. The mailbox was painted with small, yellow flowers and the name Jones in a curlicue font. I shifted the gear into park and took a good look around. It looked cheerful. The entire house looked cheerful, come to think of it.
The lawn was neatly mowed and the flowerbeds alongside the house were well kept. A small winding path of stones led to the front door. Unlike in Piney Crest, when I stepped out of my car, I could hear birds chirp overhead.
I took a moment to smooth out my button-up and the front of my trousers. As I walked up the stone path toward the front door, I wondered if I should have worn my jacket as well. But it was too late for that.
I rapped on the neatly painted robin’s egg blue door and straightened up, and it didn’t take long for someone to notice me.
“I’m not going to buy a Bible, I’ve already got plenty, so you can just be on your way,” a rasping voice called out to me. “Maybe try the Wiltons’, three houses down. Lord knows they need it.”
I nearly jumped, but quickly collected myself and turned toward the sound of the voice. There was no one there, but a heartbeat later, the owner of the voice appeared from around the side of the house.
She
was an older woman dressed in a pair of knee length denim shorts and a blouse that seemed at odds with the gardening gloves on her hands and the alarmingly large pair of sheers tucked into her elbow. I recognized her as Evelyn right away, even without the skirt and blazer combo I had become accustomed to seeing her wear during our few previous encounters. It would be hard to forget the stern set to her jaw or the helmet-like gray bob she favored.
I held my hands up in a show of surrender as she stopped and glared at me.
“Whoa,” I called out with a laugh, “I’m not here to sell you anything.” It was almost true. I wasn’t going to sell her a bible or a vacuum cleaner, but I was going to try and sell her on helping me.
Evelyn planted her free hand on her hip and tilted her sharp chin up toward me as she looked me over. I wasn’t sure if she’d recognized me yet, but I had a sneaking suspicion she might have at least an inkling of who I was.
“Then why, exactly, is it that you’re knocking on my door before noon?” She was more than a little intimidating with those gardening shears.
“I’m Archer, Archer Landon,” I said. “We crossed paths once or twice back when I worked at the Maricopa County Public Defender’s office?”
I couldn’t hide the hope she recognized me from my tone. I smiled, like that might jog her memory.
Evelyn pursed her lips and cocked her head as she regarded me as if I was some sort of unwelcome bug in her garden. Something flickered in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly I wasn’t sure what it was.
“Can’t say I recognize you, but the name rings a bell. Did you have the--” She paused to gesture at her own chin.
I reached up to ghost my hand over the five o’clock shadow I hadn’t gotten a chance to shave yet. “No, that’s new, and hopefully, temporary,” I said with a laugh. “Jerry Yates gave me your address. He and Marnie send their well wishes, by the way.”
Evelyn gave another nod as a small smile twitched at the corners of her lips. I could have swore I saw her gaze soften.
“Jerry’s a good man,” she finally spoke. “He and Marnie were overbearing as sin when Frank died. I’m retired, but it’s not like I have one foot in the damn grave.”
She shook her head as she pulled off her gardening gloves. Underneath, her hands were small and speckled with dark-brown age spots. Evelyn looked back up at me with clear expectation on her face. I realized then that I hadn’t explained why exactly I was there yet. So I cleared my throat and decided the best way to explain my presence was to dive right in.
“Well, I’ve just been given a bit of money from an angel investor to take on a case involving Knox Chemicals, down in Crowley,” I began to explain and then waited for some sort of understanding to cross her face before I continued.
Evelyn gave a nod, so I kept talking.
“It’s a big case, and I can’t do it alone,” I added. “So, Jerry suggested I reach out for help.” I flashed her my most charming smile, the one that always had the juries siding in my favor.
She rolled her eyes, and my smile faltered for a second. Evelyn gave a heavy sigh and shook her head.
“Come on, I’ve got sweet tea in the backyard,” Evelyn said with a resigned sort of huff. “And tell Jerry to quit sending me his strays, will you? I’m a widower, not lonely.”
She made a brisk turn on her heels and walked off. For an old woman, she moved with purpose.
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t thought she’d agree to talk to me after her first few quips, but I was more than happy to hurry down the front steps and follow after her as she turned around the side of the house toward her backyard.
It didn’t take much for me to catch up to her, thanks to my long legs, and this seemed to agitate her. Evelyn glanced up at me and huffed before she turned her attention back ahead toward the yard. Given the state of the yard, it looked as if she’d been at work trimming a few large rose bushes when I arrived.
“They’re lovely,” I said with a gesture toward the bushes. “Especially for the time of year.”
Evelyn scoffed and moved over toward a wrought iron table on the back patio. She set down her shears and gloves before reaching out for the pitcher of tea.
“They’re small,” Evelyn corrected as she looked at the rose bushes like they were a personal affront to her standards.
I wasn’t sure if she meant the bushes or the flowers, but it all looked fine to me. I heard her huff again, and I turned back to my hostess. When I did so, I noticed that there were already two glasses on the table. My brow furrowed, and I did a quick scan for other gardeners.
“If you have company I can--” I began.
“Hush,” she snapped. “Jerry told me you’d be coming. Sit down,”
Evelyn barked orders with the efficiency of a drill sergeant, and I felt compelled to listen. I didn’t ask why she didn’t just tell me Jerry had told her I’d be coming around, because I got the feeling she liked having a leg up on strangers, myself included.
I raised my hands up in a show of good faith as I carefully stepped around the raised bed of mulch toward the concrete of the patio. Evelyn gestured toward the empty chair across from her own, and I lowered myself into the seat. The heat bore down in a way that made my collar stick to my neck, and I was grateful when Evelyn set the glass of tea in front of me. I imagined myself holding the glass to my neck as the ice gave a musical clink, but I suspected Evelyn would disapprove, so I smiled to show my gratitude instead.
She sat down across from me and crossed her short legs at the ankles. Before I could speak, she waved toward the tea, and I took a quick sip as she watched me. I couldn’t figure out if there was something on my face or if she was looking for something I couldn’t see.
“Well,” she said. “Go on, then. Tell me about Knox Chemicals.”
I took another gulp of tea and then set my glass down as I worked out where to begin. The condensation had slicked my hand, and I rubbed it on the back of my neck for some relief from the heat.
“It’s less about Knox Chemicals and more about Piney Crest, the neighborhood downriver from the plant,” I explained as I dropped my hand. “I was contacted by one of the residents. Her daughter, Emma, developed acute leukemia out of nowhere. But she’s the eighth person in the area to have gotten seriously sick. And she wants to sue the plant.”
Evelyn’s thin eyebrows raised higher and higher as I spoke. The stern, unshakeable mask she wore seemed to waver for just a moment.
“That’s a mighty serious set of claims,” Evelyn reminded me. She hadn’t said no just yet, though, and I needed to keep it that way.
I nodded again and folded my hands in my lap. I listened to the birdsong for a moment and watched as Evelyn took a delicate sip from her own glass.
“I know, which is why I need help,” I replied. “My practice is small.” Small was an understatement. This situation was David versus Goliath, if David were the size of an ant.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she set her glass down.
“I can’t do this alone, Mrs. Jones.” I might as well have dropped onto my knees and begged.
Evelyn scoffed out something that could have been a laugh, and I was convinced she was about to turn me down.
“It’s just Evelyn,” she replied. “And don’t grovel. It doesn’t suit you.” She scrunched her nose in disdain, and I couldn’t help but give another laugh.
Something about her brusque, no nonsense attitude refreshed me. I could easily see how she was Jerry’s first thought.
“Alright, Evelyn,” I conceded. “I can’t do this alone. I don’t have a lot of money to throw around, but I’ve got enough to pay you. I’m not asking for charity work.”
I opened my palms to her as I dumped the ball right back into her court. She took another thoughtful sip of her tea as she leaned back in her chair. I noticed that the decorative floral cushion on the seat slid as she moved but she didn’t react or try to readjust the cushion.
“You’re going to need a lawyer that can handle a class act
ion case,” she mused.
I perked up and straightened ever so slightly in the chair, but Evelyn scoffed at my reaction.
“Don’t start getting your hopes up yet, I haven’t made up my mind,” she reminded me with a stern shake of her finger. “But, I’m just thinking aloud. You can’t afford some hotshot, and if I’m being honest, you probably can barely afford me.”
I didn’t argue. Things would be thin when I stretched the check Higgins had given me, but it was leagues better than I had before. I gave a hard sigh and a small shake of my head.
“After this, you can go back to retirement with one more good case under your belt,” I said in a gentle voice. “These people need help, Evelyn, and I think we should help them.”
I watched her as she chewed at the inside of her mouth, and it seemed like an eternity before she sighed again. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I was sure she’d say no, but then she gave a slow nod.
“Fine!” she declared. “Lawyers and their damn way with words.” She gave another huff to punctuate her sentence before she reached up to smooth her helmet of hair.
I tried not to grin, but I could feel it start to sneak across my face.
“Lord help me, but I’ll aid in your suicide mission,” she muttered with a deep, exhausted sigh. “Do you have any class action lawyers in mind to ask for help, Mr. Pro Bono?”
She raised an eyebrow in my direction and folded her hands neatly in her lap while she waited for an answer. I nearly coughed, but I took a quick sip of my tea instead. Jerry had obviously told her more than I’d expected, or maybe she just smelled the charity work on me like some sort of aftershave.
“No, I was hoping you might,” I admitted as I set my glass down.
Evelyn sighed and shook her head, and I had the discomforting feeling that she might try to swat at my knuckles with a ruler if I kept disappointing her.
“Do you remember hearing about Brody Lucas?” She looked at me, and I gave a shake of my head. “Big shot lawyer that was temporarily disbarred a few years back?”
