After the Fire

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After the Fire Page 11

by Meredith Rae Morgan


  Chapter 11

  The next day Bev drove to her office in Dayton. She stopped first to check in with Cassandra. “Hey, what's up around here. What are you doing for excitement without me around?”

  “I don't need excitement, and, frankly, you're not very exciting. You're mainly a pain in the ass when you're here.”

  “Thanks for making me feel needed and appreciated.”

  Cassie had everything under control on Bev's other matters so she went down the hall and stuck her head in Jamison's office. He looked up and said, “Hey, there, Stranger. What brings you to town?”

  “Meeting with lawyers. Are you invited?”

  “Yep.” He stood up and put on his suit jacket. As they walked down the hall he asked, “How'd the meeting go last night.”

  “I didn't throw up.”

  “I guess that's a good thing.” He stopped her in the middle of the hall, “I want you to level with me. If this gets too bad for you, I'll take you off it.”

  “You know, before yesterday I'd have told you to go to hell for making that suggestion. However, after my meeting with the Mazzoli's yesterday morning and then my encounter with the lynch mob of my neighbors last night, I'll be honest with you and tell you if I need you to let me out from under this. Right now, I think if any other adjuster had this claim, it would be in the hands of the fraud unit. I want to at least hang onto it until I get a conclusive result as to causation. At that point, I'll either turn it over to the fraud unit or you and I can have a conversation about who should handle Phase Two.”

  “That is all I can ask. If you need relief before then, let me know.”

  “I promise I will.”

  “You've lied to me about that before.”

  “This time I'm not lying.”

  Minutes later they stepped off the elevator in the executive suite. The receptionist directed them to the conference room in the legal department. McGavin offered coffee and pastries and then he introduced Bev to Rita Wentzel. The women sized each other up. Bev liked what she saw. Rita was much younger than she would have expected, perhaps in her mid to late thirties. She was stocky without being fat, and severely professional in her navy suit, white blouse and plain navy pumps. Bev smiled and held out her hand, “It's nice to have another woman on this case, I've been inhabiting an all-male world lately and I'm about to succumb to testosterone toxicity.”

  Rita laughed. “I totally understand. The world of insurance coverage attorneys is overwhelmingly male. I will add that the world of property adjusters is generally pretty macho as well.”

  “I've noticed that, too. Sometimes my gender helps me because people will open up and talk to me. With investigators and other adjusters it's generally a liability, however.”

  Rita winked and said softly, “When we wrap this one up what do you say we go out for beer and share the stories of how we ended up in this last bastion of male domination.”

  “Deal. I'll put the beer on my expense account and we'll let Midwestern pay for it.”

  David Jamison was not even pretending not to eaves-drop, he said, “We don't reimburse for alcohol.”

  Having decided that Rita was somebody she could work with, Bev poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Peter Dietz joined them in a few minutes and McGavin called the meeting to order. He turned the floor over to Bev. She gave them an update on the meeting (leaving out the part about telling the crowd her personal opinions about the insureds' innocence and her endorsement of Peters). She also told them that Tucker was coming back to visit the scene again with the FBI investigator.

  Jamison said, “Is it really necessary to bring Tucker back again?”

  Bev started to say something, but McGavin and Dietz both cut her off. Dietz said, “I think he should come back. If there's anything he overlooked the last time, maybe he'll find it now. Besides, the last time we didn't know to look for clues about people in the restaurant who were not locals. What is more, I don't want the FBI's investigator digging around in there with out Tucker knowing what they're doing.” He made a face, “I know it's contrary to usual expense protocols, but I think you should authorize the expense.”

  Jamison's face registered his displeasure but he didn't argue.

  When Bev finished her summary, the others consulted their notes. McGavin looked at Rita and held out his hand, palm up, giving her the floor.

  She said, “I've read the file and I've collected all the news articles I could find both about the fire and about the history of the business. Bev, I think you've got a good handle on the investigation. I also think you did the right thing by bringing in the feds sooner rather than later. Usually, I fight tooth and nail to keep them out of my yard, but in this case, my gut tells me that you're right to want to dig around in Prescott's patient files.”

  She rifled through some papers. “The damages will be enormous. It seems to me that the plaintiff's will be able to argue that the building was a fire trap. If it were sprinklered, more people would have been able to get out. The wood was old and dry. Too many people in the building. Yada yada. How do you propose to respond to that?”

  “I agree with you that there's definitely some negligence and I propose and will request authority to put up money, up to policy limits, to settle the claims. However, at the same time I will deny liability until the cows come home and I will point the finger at whoever set the fire. Hopefully that person will have some assets.”

  “What about using the property portion of the loss to boost your pot of money? It doesn't appear that Mazzoli intends to rebuild.”

  “I floated that by him.” She responded to the panicked looks on the faces of Jamison and McGavin by adding, “Without making any commitment!”

  Rita asked, “What was his reaction?”

  “He didn't reject the idea, but Mrs. Mazzoli reminded me that they have no income now other than her minimum wage job as a cook in a nursing home. They really need as much of that money as we can protect.”

  McGavin asked, “Isn't Mazzoli working?”

  “Evidently he owes money to half the town. If he went to work for some of those people they wouldn't pay him anything until he worked off his debt. Besides, there seems to be the general impression that he's our firebug and he'll be in jail soon, so employers are not exactly lining up to hire him.”

  Rita closed her portfolio. “My initial impression is that there is no bar to coverage if Mazzoli didn't set the fire. Therefore, I think you should proceed on the course you're on. Find the cause of the fire, and then let's figure out how the hell to settle the claims without putting your insured in the poorhouse.”

  Bev tapped her finger on the table and scrunched up her lips. She said, “Along those lines, I have to make a confession. Tim Peters is representing the Prescott family. He is the one who called the meeting last night to recruit other clients. Tim's a reasonable sort (for his ilk anyway), and he understands insurance. I think we might have a better chance of arriving at a global settlement if he's representing all or most of the claimants. I sort of told the crowd last night that I knew Tim and I thought they could do worse than him.”

  The men looked apoplectic; Rita threw back her head and laughed out loud. “How long did it take him to recover from the shock of such an endorsement from an adjuster?”

  “Actually, he handled it pretty well at the time. We might want to check the cardiac unit this morning.”

  McGavin said, “Why in the sam hell would you endorse an attorney?”

  Rita answered, “She did it because she's right. Our only prayer to get this settled without exposing our insured to a horrendous excess exposure is to keep in out of the hands of wackadoo local lawyers who are trying to make a big score. Peters already has a national reputation. He doesn't need the publicity. It was kind of a crazy thing to do, but I think your instincts were probably right.”

  The last of Bev's reservations about working with coverage counsel breathing down her neck evaporated. Rita w
as not only smart and professional. She was reasonable. Bev asked, “How closely do you want to be involved?”

  “The investigation itself is your bailiwick. Proceed with that under Russ's direction. Once you determine the cause of the fire, if it looks like Mazzoli set it, we'll let Pete take the hot potato. If it's due to any other cause, we'll get busy and try to negotiate the best deal we can for our insured. In the meantime, I'm going to line up some damages experts to start crunching numbers, not that we have any hard information yet. You got any demands?”

  “Not yet. Peters generally doesn't send demand letters. He files suit. Then he gives an unlimited extension of time to answer while squeezing every possible source for as much money as he can.”

  “Okay. Keep me posted on all the information you come up with about the claimants.”

  “Will do.”

  Rita looked at McGavin and said, “I'm done.”

  McGavin asked Dietz and Jamison if either of them had any questions. There being none, he adjourned the meeting. Jamison had another meeting with the claims VP, so Rita and Bev walked to the elevator together. Rita looked at her watch, “It's a little early but do you want to grab lunch?”

  “Sure.”

  Rita was older than she looked, but still a decade younger than Bev. She was married to another attorney and had two kids in elementary school. The women confined their conversation to the universal contemporary girl-talk about the difficulties of juggling home, family and work. Bev was satisfied that Rita was somebody she would enjoy working with. She sensed that Rita felt the same about her.

  As she was driving back toward Stanforth, Ben Tucker called her to let her know that he and the FBI investigator were on their way to Stanforth. She said, “You didn't tell me you were here already.”

  “I was a sudden thing. I was trying to drag it out to get you cheaper tickets but the FBI threatened to go in with out me if I didn't high-tail it.”

  “No problem. I'll try to get a exception for that expense. How far away are you?”

  “'bout twenty minutes.”

  “See if you can stall. Tell them you want coffee or have to go to the bathroom. I'm about a half an hour away. I want to meet you there. Is Jackson with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Stall.”

  “Okey dokey.”

  Bev pushed down harder on the accelerator and called Casey's office to tip him off. She told him she wanted to go in with the investigators and asked him to stall them if they beat her there and to bring her some protective gear. He agreed to do both.

  Paul called her a few minutes later. He said that the Mazzoli's were very appreciative that she talked them out of going to the meeting. They weren't up for the kind of accusations that were being made. He added, “Peters called me this morning. Evidently your endorsement paid off big time. He signed up most of the people in the room as clients. He said to relay his thanks but you can forget about him paying you a referral fee.”

  She laughed, “Hey, you might want to put a word out on the grapevine wire that investigators are going to show up in town very soon. We got quite a team. Ben's back from California. CSI from Cincinnati. The FBI.”

  “If nothing else, the folks in town will know that you deliver on your promises.”

  “Paul, Mr. Mazzoli's entire future depends on the people in the town trusting me to do just that.”

  “The Mazzoli's and I are aware of that. We also all know you're doing the best you can.”

  “Let's all hope and pray it's good enough. I'll talk to you later.”

  She called Casey, “Hey, I just crossed the county line, what are the chances of me getting away with speeding?”

  “Police scanner tells me that the radar traps are on the other side of town today. I don't think there are any cops between you and me. You don't have a radar detector?”

  “Those things are illegal.”

  “That doesn't mean people don't have them.”

  “I don't have one. I'm going to put the pedal to the metal. I'll be there directly.”

  A few minutes later, she pulled up behind a nondescript car with government plates. She dialed Ben's number. “Is that you in front of me?”

  “Yeah. You scared the bejesus out of the driver the way you came up on us so fast.”

  “Tell him to relax. I'll stay behind you. I don't want to get a ticket for passing a bunch of cops.”

  “FBI dude says to tell you he don't fool with traffic violations.”

  She flipped her middle finger at the driver of the car in front of her. She heard them all laughing as she hung up the phone.

  Casey was waiting for them he said, “Geez, Bev, you disappoint me. I thought you could go faster than that.”

  She grinned at Anderson and said, “I got behind a car that was driving like somebody's granny.”

  The investigators took protective clothing from the trunk. Casey handed Bev a suit. Anderson said, “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

  Bev replied, “I'm going in with you.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  “I was in there the night of the fire. I may be helpful to you and your investigator.”

  “How is it that you were inside?”

  She explained her role on the night of the fire. Anderson glared at Casey and groused not totally under his breath about the inappropriateness of letting an adjuster go inside a burning building. He agreed to let her go inside with them.

  Once inside, they circled the outside of the room along much the same path as she had followed with the EMT's on the night of the fire. They stopped for a long time in the corner of the room where the fire apparently started. The FBI investigator took a bunch of samples, and asked Ben and the CSI to share the samples they had collected. They agreed to do so, provided he shared his new samples with them. They spent quite a lot of time digging through the ashes on the floor near the ignition point. The FBI guy pulled out a bunch of tiny glass and a few metal fragments that had not been previously collected.

  When they got back to the entrance, Bev asked Tucker, “Where was the unidentified body found?”

  He consulted his notes and pointed to the corner of the table closest to the ignition point. He pulled some grisly photos out of his pocket, showing the the body as it was lying before the coroner moved it. The body was turned away from the table as though the person was trying to run away. Bev couldn't tell if the person was male or female. She also couldn't tell if the person had been seated at the table or had been behind the table, in the corner where the fire started. She looked at the body wondering if it were the arsonist or the most badly burned of all his victims.

  Anderson asked the guard if the building had been protected without any gaps.

  “Yes, sir. Both the front and back entrances have had round-the-clock police protection. We can look at their logs, but to my knowledge, nobody has been in here since Ben's visit.”

  They bagged the glass and the metal fragments and then made another pass through the room looking for anything else they may have missed. Satisfied that they had collected all the evidence they needed, they went back out toward the street. In the bar, Anderson said, “Is it odd that there is no smoke damage at all here in the bar?”

  Tucker said, “That's because there's a fire wall between the dining room and the bar which prevented the fire from spreading to this room. When the kitchen staff opened the back door, the smoke went in that direction, and away from the bar.”

  Bev said, “That has troubled me all along. One of the fire exits is through the kitchen. How come the opening of the fire exit was the thing that caused the fire to go crazy? Somebody screwed up the fire exits?”

  Jackson asked, “Who might that have been?”

  Bev shook her head, “I don't know. Who's responsible for designating the fire exits?”

  Anderson said, “The fire department.”

  Bev said softly, “We have a former fire chief who never recommended that
any business in town get sprinklers; the current staff of the fire department has recommended sprinklers, but has never failed a fire inspection for any business that didn't install sprinklers. Now, it appears that the kitchen was designated as a fire exit, despite the fact that opening that door acted like a flue, feeding air to the fire. I like Chief Casey, but I'm thinking the local fire department has some skin in this game.”

  Anderson said, “They have governmental immunity.”

  “That means that they don't have to kick in any money, but it doesn't mean I can't argue they were partly responsible for the damages and claim an offset. You gonna have a problem with that?”

  Anderson shook his head, “No. Especially not when you produce the stuff about the former fire chief telling your company that he didn't think the restaurant needed a sprinkler.”

  Tucker and the FBI expert were talking with their heads together. After a few minutes they approached Anderson and Bev. The FBI expert said, “We're going to divide up these samples in thirds. One for me. One for Ben. One for the CSI's. After we're done with our analysis, we'll compare results. You okay with that?”

  Bev nodded. Anderson shrugged. The scientists huddled. They decided to send all the samples to the Cincinnati crime lab. They would divide them and overnight the samples to Tucker on the west coast and the FBI in Washington.

  Bev ran her hands through her hair and yawned. She turned to Anderson and said, “I think we're about done here. I've had a long day and my kid is home by herself. I think I'll pack it in for the night.”

  Anderson shook her hand and said he'd be in touch. She said good-bye to Tucker and got into her car. She drove home in an exhausted fog. When she pulled into her driveway, she could barely recall how she got there.

  Emily was doing homework, with both the TV and the radio blaring. For perhaps the only time in her life, Bev didn't bitch about that. She kissed her daughter good-night and said, “I'm going to bed.”

  A few minutes later, Emily came into Bev's room and sat on the edge of the bed, brushing back her mother's hair in exactly the same gesture Bev usually used when Emily was troubled. “You okay, Mom?”

  “Yes. I'm just tired.”

  “You didn't even yell at me for doing homework while watching TV and listening to the radio.”

  “What's your GPA?”

  “3.8.”

  “I guess I don't have a lotta room to bitch. Huh?”

  “That's never stopped you before.”

  “I'm sorry about that.”

  “This is hard for you, isn't it?”

  “Yeah. It's always hard, but this is the first time I've ever handled a claim that involved people I know.” She scooted over and Emily crawled in bed beside her mother, putting her head on Bev's shoulder. Bev held her daughter more for her own benefit than the other way around. “What was the buzz at school about the meeting.”

  Emily chuckled, “Well, it really depended on who you talked to. Some people said that you are dragging your feet to try to keep Mr. Mazzoli out of jail as long as possible, and they are not happy about that. They would have him strung up in front of city hall. Others say that you and Mr. Morehouse are trying very hard to be fair and to help the Mazzolis; people have mixed feelings about that. A couple of people said that Mr. Morehouse was very impressive. Mr. Peters is evidently very sexy and convincing. One kid told me his mom and dad thought you were magnificent.”

  “Who was that?”

  “I don't know. He was a kid I never talked to before. I don't even know his name.”

  Bev kissed Emily on the top of the head and smoothed her hair back, “I guess that's a mixed bag, but it's not too bad. Please don't take any of this to heart.”

  Emily sat up and kissed her mom on the cheek. “I'm not the one who's not eating half the time, puking when she does eat, and sleeping more than I've ever known you to do.”

  “I hear you. You should know that David Jamison may take this claim away from me.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “I want to finish the fire investigation first.”

  Emily stood up and tucked her mother in. “You like to portray yourself as a hard-assed adjuster whose seen it all, heard it all and are not impressed by any of it. The fact is, Mom, you're a marshmallow.”

  Bev smiled with her eyes already half closed, “For God's sake, don't tell anybody that!”

 

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