by Carsen Taite
Camille Avery was seated behind the desk. If she was surprised to see West, she hid it behind a brief but knowing smile. West shot a look at the guy in the three-piece suit—who wore those, anyway—seated in front of Camille’s desk and then nodded at Camille. “Good morning, Judge.”
“Good morning, West. Have a seat. Have you met Lloyd?”
West slid into the seat next to three-piece Lloyd. “I haven’t.”
He stuck out his hand. “Lloyd Garber. Northwestern.”
She stared at his hand for a minute, trying to decide if this guy was for real. When he didn’t flinch, she shook his hand. “West Fallon. Nice to meet you.”
“Now that you’re both here,” Camille said, her expression all business, “Let’s get a few things out in the open. First of all, in case you weren’t aware, this is my first day on the bench. I’m ready to hit the ground running and I hope you are too. We don’t have a morning docket today, but the afternoon is full, and the first thing I’d like you to do is prepare a one-page memo to brief me on each of the matters scheduled for this afternoon’s docket. When you’re done with that, I’d like to start going through the rest of the current caseload and triage any cases needing attention. Some other judges have been filling in to decide pending matters since May, but there might be some motions still lingering and we’ll need to reset any trial dates that were set over the summer. It’ll probably take us a few weeks to get things running smoothly. Any questions?”
Lloyd raised his hand. West barely suppressed a laugh when she caught Camille trying hard not to roll her eyes. “What’s your question, Lloyd?” Camille asked.
“Do you have some kind of template you’d like us to use for the memos? Maybe something you’ve had clerks use in the past. Judge Stroud hasn’t had us write any memos yet.”
“Short answer is no, I don’t,” Camille said. “Longer answer is that I’m new at this job, but I have done your job before, and I can tell you that wherever you work—judicial clerk or associate in a firm, big or small—brevity is always appreciated as long as you cover the salient points. Make sense?”
Lloyd nodded, but West wasn’t sure he understood he’d need to start thinking for himself. Whatever he thought, she respected Camille’s ability to get right to the point. She rose to follow Lloyd out of the room, but Camille stopped her. “West, do you mind sticking around for a minute? I need to ask you something.”
She faced Camille and studiously ignored Lloyd’s curious gaze. When the door finally closed behind Lloyd, Camille motioned for her to sit down again. “Nice to see you again,” West said, keeping her tone even.
Camille nodded. “Nice to see you too. Circumstances have certainly changed, haven’t they?”
“I suppose. I mean, I would still ask you out again. Nothing’s changed about that, but I guess you decided not to use the number I gave you, so it doesn’t seem like a winning proposition.”
“Seemed a little inappropriate once I figured out you were going to be working for me.”
West wondered when that had happened and then she realized Camille must’ve made the connection after she’d given her the card with her name on it outside of Hank’s house. “So, you would’ve called?”
Camille rushed to answer. “I didn’t say that.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation.”
West offered an exaggerated nod. “I get it. We should be all WASPY and ignore our feelings?”
“I don’t have feelings.” Camille scrambled to clarify. “I mean, of course, I have feelings, just not about you.”
“Well, that sounded downright mean.”
Camille cleared her throat. “I think you know that’s not how I meant it. I just want to be clear now that we have a professional relationship, nothing that happened or might have happened before matters. Are we clear?”
West watched Camille’s face for signs of her true feelings. She was obviously a tad flustered, but that could be attributed to first day jitters, but she suspected it was more than that. Camille was attracted to her. West wasn’t entirely sure why she cared at this point since they couldn’t do anything about it now. Maybe she just wanted to know, as if knowing would give her some kind of satisfaction, some kind of power.
“Oh, we’re clear all right.” West stood. “I better join your more experienced clerk before he finishes all the files and makes me look bad. Do you want us in the courtroom for the afternoon docket or would you rather we kept reviewing files?”
Camille looked surprised at the question. “It might be a good idea for one of you to be there. You can decide between you which one shows up.”
“Okay.” West turned to go, but Camille’s voice stopped her.
“Do you mind if I ask how you know Judge Blair?” When West raised her eyebrows, Camille looked away, but kept talking. “It was pretty clear to me from talking to him that you weren’t simply a new hire. He seems very interested in your future.”
West met Camille’s gaze and held it. Camille’s expression was earnest, genuine, not predatory, like she was looking for gossip, but telling her the truth would open wounds long closed, though not remote enough to be painless. A moment ago, she’d had fun playing power games with Camille, but now she knew she’d been playing with fire. Camille was her boss for the next year and their every interaction had to be professional or she’d risk more than a reference on her résumé.
In the meantime, Camille was waiting patiently for her answer, so she delivered a response that would be honest, but share nothing. “I met him working on a case years ago and we became friendly. Nothing more to it.” She waved as she walked toward the door. “Talk to you later.”
She pushed through the door and breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally out of Camille’s presence. She had no idea how she was going to make it through a year with Camille Avery and her devastating good looks and probing questions. If she’d known how hard it would be to keep it together, she wasn’t sure she would’ve agreed to take on the job.
* * *
Camille watched the door close, and when it clicked shut, she put her head in her hands. Damn. Everything about West distracted her completely. How in the world was she going to make it through the next year with West strutting around, oozing sexuality? And there was more to it than West’s good looks. She had a mystery about her, and Camille was anxious to puzzle it out. West’s vague detail about how she knew Blair was likely a watered-down version of the truth. She’d seen West’s transcript and résumé. She’d graduated top of her class at Berkeley and held some prestigious internships while in school, so she was certainly qualified, but she was vastly different from the stuffy, pedigreed sycophants that often applied for such positions. In addition to the funky clothes and intricate tattoo hiding under West’s sleeve, she was a couple of years older than most clerks, and the nonchalant manner suggested a take it or leave it attitude toward the job. She seemed like an edgy choice for a federal clerkship, and she had a strong feeling Blair’s hiring of West Fallon was rooted in something deeper than a chance meeting while working on a case. No doubt she’d be able to find out more details from people who’d worked with Blair at the courthouse, but running through the gossip mill on her first day was a bit unseemly. The mystery of West Fallon would have to wait.
The phone on her desk rang. “Judge Avery.”
“Judge Avery, Judge Stroud would like to talk to you.”
“Thanks, Ester. You can put him through.”
“Actually, he’s right outside your door. He planned on busting in, but I told him we weren’t going to start things that way.”
Camille laughed at the protective tone in her secretary’s voice. Ester had been with Judge Blair for a long time, and she’d expected it would take a lot longer than half a day to win her over. “Fair enough, but I’m available now, so you can send him in.”
After a brief knock on the door, Stroud stuck his head in. “Mind if I come in?”
Stroud sank into one of the chairs with a glance back toward the closed door. “I have to admit,” he whispered, “I’m a little scared of that woman.”
“Then I’m very happy to have her on my side.” Camille leaned back in her chair. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“First off I want to congratulate you on your swift confirmation. I know Mark Hollis was in contention for the nomination, but Senator Armstrong really went to bat for you.”
Despite his friendly smile, Camille heard a slight edge in his voice at the mention of Mark Hollis. Mark was a well-known lawyer in Dallas who’d made no secret he’d had his sights on a federal bench. It was also no secret Mark was an old friend of Stroud’s, and she wondered if he wished his pal had been chosen over her, but acknowledging the rift seemed awkward, so she changed the subject. “I’m happy to be here and anxious to get started. You have any advice?”
He looked surprised at the question. “Me? No, you’ll do just fine on your own. I came by primarily to make sure you have everything you need. You met West Fallon?”
Camille went on high alert. “I did. She seems very qualified.”
“You sound like someone talking about a blind date. What is it they say—the prospect has a nice personality.”
Camille squirmed in her seat at the dating reference. She needed to be very careful here. “I might’ve been a little surprised, that’s all. She’s not like any of the clerks I’ve met before.”
“True. You won’t find many like her. She was one of Blair’s special projects,” he said, shaking his head. “It was very nice of you to agree to keep her on.”
“Actually,” Camille said, “I’m not sure I need two clerks. I appreciate the loan, but if you’d like Lloyd back, I’m sure I can manage.” She had a feeling Lloyd was going to be more of a drag on her time than helpful with the case load.
“Nonsense.” He looked around the room. “This is a nice office.”
Camille started to ask another question about West, but the abrupt change in subject signaled now was not the time. “You said primarily.”
“Pardon?”
“You were primarily checking in. What else did you need?”
“I wanted to talk to you about your docket. We operate under a random assignment docket. The clerks dole out cases as they come in, but at times, as chief, I exercise my authority to reassign a case.”
“O-kay.” Camille strung the word out as she tried to figure out where he was headed with this information.
“I’m telling you this because I plan to reassign the Wilson case.”
“Any particular reason?” Camille didn’t try to hide the note of defensiveness in her voice. It might be her first day here, but she wasn’t new to bench politics. When the presiding judge in state court interfered with the usual process of assigning cases, there was usually some implication the assigned judge either wasn’t experienced enough or had some bias.
“It’s not about you. It’s a lightning rod kind of a case and it’s set for trial in the next few weeks. You don’t need that right off the bat.”
“And when will I need that?”
“Excuse me?”
Camille leaned forward. “Barry, if you’re trying to protect me, don’t. I’m fully aware why I got voted out of office, but I don’t regret the decision I made or the attention it generated. I hate publicity as much as the next person, but it’s part of the deal. There will never be a time when having my judgment questioned in public is convenient. If you’re going to pull this case from me now, at what point will you decide I’m ready to handle hot-button cases? And do you baby all the new judges or just the ones whose parents you vacation with?”
Stroud shifted in his chair. “Truth is we haven’t had a new judge in a while.”
“What kind of case is it?”
“Criminal. Drug counts, but one of them is a lifer.”
“Well, I’d prefer if you’d treat me like everyone else. If it were a complex patent law case, I’d understand you wanting to reassign it until I had a little more experience, but I’ve handled plenty of drug cases and quite a few capital cases in state court, not to mention my time as an AUSA. You can safely assume I know what I’m doing. Okay?”
Stroud crossed his arms and frowned, but he apparently saw the logic in her words. “Okay, but come to me if you need anything.”
“I will, but right now the kind of things I need are the password to the secret lounge and the code for the secret door.”
Stroud laughed. “Ester will fill you in. She knows more about the ins and outs of this place than anyone else here.” He stood up. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”
“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’d rather get settled in. Rain check?”
“I’ll round up some of the other judges,” he lowered his voice, “the ones I like, and we’ll make a plan for later in the week.” He walked through the door, calling out, “Have a great day!” over his shoulder.
Camille watched him go. She wished she knew what to ask him, but the truth was until she started digging into the case files, she didn’t have a clue what she didn’t know. Maybe when she got the memos back from Lloyd and West, she’d have a better handle on what she would be facing over the next few months.
West. Every thought circled back to her. Crazy really. Maybe she just needed a date. She’d had lots of offers and plenty of time to date after she was booted out of office last November, but other than her regular Sunday brunch with friends, an active social life had been at the bottom of her list of to-dos. Besides, first date conversations inevitably turned to topics that included career, a total non-starter for an unemployed judge whose only real prospect at the time had been work at her parents’ firm.
But now she was a federal judge and she could hold her head high. Once she settled in, she could venture out and meet other eligible professional woman, maybe even one who wasn’t an attorney. In the meantime, she needed to learn her way around the courthouse if she was going to fit in. She pressed the button labeled Ester on her phone and asked her to come in. The almost immediate knock on the door left her wondering if Ester had ESP.
“Come in. Have a seat. I need your help.”
“Sure, Judge, whatever you need.”
Camille didn’t bother asking her to use her first name. Ester had worked at the courthouse most of her adult life and the title would be ingrained in her, but Camille vowed to break the ice in some other ways. “The list is long, but first I wanted to tell you I’m very sorry Judge Blair had to retire so suddenly.”
“Thank you. We worked together for a very long time.”
“And I know he valued your service. I’m sure I will too. There are a lot of things I need help with, and I’m depending on you to be my right hand.”
“Whatever you need to know.”
“For starters is there a special place I can park, and where can I get something good to eat around here?”
“Great questions. There’s a cafe on the sixth floor, creatively named Cafe on Six. I can always get you food from there, but beware going in yourself because it’ll be open season for attorneys to bug you with questions. A lot of the judges eat at the Adolphus down the street. I also have a list of places that deliver. Whatever you need, I can get it for you.”
Ester’s generous desire to be helpful spurred Camille to ask one of the questions she really wanted to know. “Do you happen to know when Judge Blair hired West Fallon? I couldn’t help but notice you two seem very familiar.”
The second West’s name was mentioned, Ester’s expression changed, closed off. “They’ve known each other a very long time. I think it was always assumed West would clerk for him when she graduated.”
Camille wanted to fish for more information, but this was too obvious, too direct. Her obsession with the details about West wasn’t becoming. West was well qualified for the job and it was none of her business if some sort of n
epotism had led Blair to make her keep his promise to hire her. Camille vowed to let the topic go.
“Now, about that parking space.”
Chapter Four
West shot a look at Lloyd who was completely consumed with a huge stack of pleadings in the file in front of him. He skimmed each page, sometimes thumbing back to reread a section. At the rate he was going, his one-page memo would be done in a week. She scanned the file in front of her and considered whether it was better to let him do things his way or throw him a lifeline. Unable to stand it any longer, she spoke up.
“I have a feeling she only needs a quick summary of whatever motions are on the docket today,” she said, injecting her voice with what she hoped was a cheerful, I just want to help you out tone. “There should be a docket sheet from PACER in the front of each file.” She reached over to point out the docket sheet from the e-filing system that listed all the pleadings that had been filed in the case, but Lloyd yanked the file closer to him.
“I’m good. I have been doing this longer than you.” His voice was clipped and defensive.
“Sure. Fine.” West shrugged and turned back to her own file. His loss if Camille wondered why in the hell he’d written one memo to her six. She dug back into the pleadings in the file in front of her. The case was pretty straightforward: felon in possession of a firearm. The defendant had been pulled over by a Mesquite police officer for making an illegal lane change. The hearing today was on the defendant’s motion to suppress the subsequent search of his car based on his contention that not only did the officer stop him without cause, but also that the officer had no right to search his car. West had been to several suppression hearings during her time in the criminal law clinic at Berkeley, and she was up to speed on what to expect. The burden was first on the defense to rebut the presumption that the police acted properly without a warrant, and then the burden shifted to the government to show the search and seizure of evidence was reasonable. Camille probably knew the law on the subject, but West typed a quick summary of the motion and response, and included a bullet-point list of the things each side would need to show in order to prevail. In her opinion, the defense should win this one—illegal lane change was a pretty lame excuse for pulling someone over with lights and sirens, but ultimately the law was on the side of the government. No one asked for her opinion so she didn’t go there in the memo.
