Life Support

by Robert Whitlow

  Alexia gave him a startled look. “Yes, Baxter Richardson. But he’s not in Spartanburg; he’s at Greenville Memorial.”

  “Do you know him?”

  Alexia paused to frame her response. “Never met him, but I’m familiar with the situation. He’s in a coma, being kept alive by machines.”

  “That’s what I heard on the radio. Do you consider that living?”

  Alexia thought about the medical prognosis for Baxter’s future. “Only at the most basic level. It’s existing, but I can’t call it living.”

  Ted nodded. “It’s the same for natural life and spiritual life. Without God, a person may be breathing and taking up space, but they’re unconscious when it comes to spiritual reality. They’re getting by on life support and don’t even know it until they wake up.”

  Alexia quickly saw where Ted was heading. “Is that what you’re trying to do to me?” she asked with a slight smile. “Get me off life support?”

  Ted grinned. “That’s my job. Your eyes are starting to flutter open, and I want to encourage the process. Imagine the reaction of the Richardson family if Baxter woke up from the coma and got out of bed.”

  Alexia wasn’t sure how Rena would respond to a revived husband. “I’m sure it would be a shock,” she said truthfully.

  “They would be ecstatic, of course, and everyone in town would be talking about it. It would be like someone coming back from the dead. It’s the same when a person becomes a Christian.”

  “You make it sound so dramatic,” she said.

  “When it’s real, it is.”

  Alexia had heard enough. After her teary session in the sanctuary, she wasn’t antagonistic to Ted’s comments, but they made her feel uneasy. She decided to change the subject to the reason for her visit.

  “I need to ask you a question about your other profession,” she said. “Would you be interested in working for me if I buy an older house in town and want to renovate it into an office?”

  “Maybe. I don’t do any big jobs.”

  “From what the realtor tells me I need a painter and handyman, not a demolition and reconstruction crew. I’ve made an offer on the house. If it’s accepted, I’d like you to take a look and tell me what you think it would cost to do the work.”

  “Where is it?”

  “On King Street near the courthouse. The house is about fifty years old.”

  Ted closed the keyboard cover. “I’ll be finished painting the parsonage by the end of the week and might be interested in another job.”

  “Could you look at it before then?”

  Ted hesitated. “Uh, okay. Just let me know, and I’ll put together an estimate.”

  Alexia stood up. “Thanks, I’ll call.”

  Ted nodded. “I’ll look forward to the adventure.”

  25

  What authority and show of truth can cunning sin cover itself withal.

  MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, ACT 4, SCENE 1

  Alexia had twelve messages on her answering machine. Number ten was from Rena Richardson.

  “This is Rena. I’m sorry you lost your job. I had no idea Baxter’s father would get you into trouble at your law firm, and I want to help by hiring you to represent me. There are several things I need to tell you, but I don’t want to leave a message on your answering machine. Please call as soon as possible.”

  The callback number was the same one Rena left at the office. Alexia wrote it down and put two question marks at the end. It might be better if Rena hired a large law firm in Charleston or Greenville to champion her cause. Wrestling with the multiple tentacles of the young woman’s legal problems without the logistical support of a fully staffed office could overextend Alexia’s resources. She listened to the final two messages. Neither call required an immediate response. She put the phone on the kitchen counter and weighed her options in the Richardson case.

  If Alexia became involved, Ralph Leggitt and Ken Pinchot would be her adversaries; however, all three lawyers would have a conflict of interest because they previously served as attorneys for both sides of the warring Richardson family. For Alexia to litigate against her old firm would precipitate a crisis. She could demand that Leggitt & Freeman withdraw from representing Ezra because the firm had access to confidential information about Rena. Of course, the same problem existed with Alexia representing Rena in claims against Ezra. Alexia didn’t know very much about the Richardson family’s business affairs, but Ezra couldn’t be sure what Alexia knew, and any reassurances by Ralph Leggitt to the contrary would be patently self-serving. This scenario would force both Leggitt & Freeman and Alexia to withdraw as counsel for either side—the exact step Alexia recommended in the meeting when she was fired.

  Only a written waiver of the conflict of interest dilemma from both Ezra and Rena would allow all three lawyers to stay in the case. If one side balked on a waiver, it would sting Leggitt & Freeman a lot more to withdraw from representing Ezra than it would Alexia to give up Rena. At the moment, the thought of causing Ralph Leggitt a high level of consternation was not unpleasant.

  Alexia picked up the phone and dialed Rena’s number. She answered on the third ring.

  “Thanks for calling back,” Rena said, sounding relieved. “I’d almost given up on you.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Alexia said shortly. “How is Baxter?”

  Rena told her about the conversation with Dr. Berman and the difference of opinion expressed by Dr. Draughton. “I know Baxter didn’t want to live hooked up to a bunch of machines,” she concluded. “Do you think I could make them take him off life support?”

  Alexia listened without comment until Rena finished. “It would be a battle of experts. If the doctors don’t agree, it would be up to a judge to decide. Unless Dr. Draughton is very, very persuasive, I doubt a judge is going to grant a petition to suspend treatment if the regular treating doctors don’t recommend it. Have you talked to him yourself?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to discuss it with you.”

  “And you’d have to overcome your father-in-law’s use of the medical care clause in the durable power of attorney.”

  “Which is why I need your help.”

  Alexia was blunt. “Before we discuss my representation, do you believe you can make a decision about Baxter’s medical care without being influenced by the fact that he tried to kill you?”

  “Oh, I’ve forgiven him for what he did at the waterfall,” Rena responded in a casual tone of voice. “All I want now is to put an end to his suffering. It’s the merciful thing to do.”

  “You’ve forgiven him?” Alexia asked skeptically.

  “I had no choice. Baxter wasn’t mentally stable, and something must have snapped. It didn’t come out while we were dating, but after we married, there were times when he was so depressed that he sat in a dark room for hours without coming out. If I tried to talk to him, he yelled at me and told me to leave him alone. I called them his ‘black moods’ and learned to stay out of his way.”

  “Was he depressed on the day of the accident?”

  “Yes, and the more wine he drank the worse it got. You should have seen the look in his eyes; he was totally out of his mind. Even if he woke up tomorrow, I wouldn’t want to press charges against him.”

  Alexia tapped a pen on the edge of the kitchen counter. Rena sounded like a different woman. Very calm and collected. And, if true, her willingness to forgive Baxter was remarkable.

  “What about the charges Ezra filed against you?” Alexia asked.

  “They gave me a summons to be in court for some type of hearing.”

  “When is it?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s not clear on the ticket. I have to call the jail and find out.”

  “Do you want to hire me for everything?”

  “Yes. I talked to a few lawyers in Greenville, but none of them made me feel as comfortable as you.”

  It was a familiar refrain Alexia had been hearing all day from her clients, and it set her at ease. She decided to take the
first step with Rena.

  “Okay, before we discuss the terms of my representation, I need to explain a few things to you,” Alexia said.

  She outlined as simply as possible the conflict of interest situation.

  “I don’t care that your old firm represented my father-in-law,” Rena responded. “I trust you to look out for me, now.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, but any contract will contain a waiver of any objection based on my employment with Leggitt & Freeman.”

  “That’s no problem. Fax it to me at the hotel.”

  This was going faster than Alexia had anticipated. She broached the most important question—payment of attorney’s fees.

  “And I will also need a retainer fee to cover my initial time and expenses. How can you pay me if Ezra has taken all the money out of your checking account?”

  “I have money he doesn’t know about. How much do you need?”

  Quoting an inadequate fee would be like jumping from the top of a tall building into three inches of water. Alexia was willing to help Rena but not at the risk of her own financial hardship. Pro bono work was not the way to begin a new law practice.

  “Ten thousand as a retainer,” she answered. “I’ll bill against that, and whenever it falls below two thousand, you will put in another five thousand.”

  Rena answered immediately. “I can give you seven thousand immediately and the balance next week.”

  Alexia would know quickly if Rena was going to make good on her promises. If she didn’t send the money, Alexia could withdraw from the case before she was in so deep that a judge might force her to continue. She cleared her throat.

  “And five thousand every time the balance goes below two thousand?” she asked.

  “Yes. That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Alexia had expected a few more questions, but Rena seemed content to trust her. A seven-thousand-dollar retainer would be a nice start to her first week as Alexia Lindale, Attorney at Law, and she could put language in the retainer agreement that protected her down the road.

  Rena continued. “I want you to sue Ezra and make him give back my money. He’s taken almost everything from my checking account, and I’m wondering what else he’s done to Baxter’s ownership in the family businesses.”

  Alexia nodded. She’d suspected such a step by Ezra since the first meeting with the partners at Leggitt & Freeman.

  “That is a distinct possibility. We can request a temporary restraining order that will stop him from shifting anything else out of Baxter’s name and demand an accounting of what he’s already transferred. It won’t be very different from the work I do in divorce cases. Husbands often try to hide assets from their wives, and I have to find out where they’re stashed.”

  Alexia’s mind began formulating theories of investigation and recovery. Most men didn’t take the time to skillfully cover their financial tracks. She hoped Ezra felt secure cloaked in the legality afforded by the power of attorney and that he hadn’t used any sophisticated tactics of concealment.

  “You won’t have to do much digging,” Rena said. “I have an inside source of information that will give you what you need.”

  “Who is it?” Alexia asked.

  “I can’t tell.”

  “It’s not someone at Leggitt & Freeman, is it?”

  Rena gave a short, harsh laugh. “No. Closer to the center of things than that.”

  Alexia did a split-second analysis. To be close to the center, Rena’s contact had to be one of Ezra’s top businesspeople or a member of the family, possibly the older brother whose name Alexia couldn’t remember.

  “There may be a time when you have to tell me,” Alexia said. “And when that time comes, I need to know that you won’t hold back.”

  “What type of situation?”

  “I don’t want your contact to do anything illegal to obtain information for you.”

  “Oh, nothing like that will happen. My source had legal access to everything anyway.”

  Alexia made a note on her paper. It had to be Baxter’s brother. He was one of the few people who would have come to Greenville, and the trip would have given him opportunity to talk to Rena. However, Alexia couldn’t imagine why he would choose his sister-in-law over his father.

  “In the meantime, stay away from Ezra,” Alexia said. “Avoid him if he comes to the ICU waiting area, and if he tries to talk to you, tell him your lawyer has instructed you not to have any contact with him.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “I’ll fax you a contract in the morning,” Alexia said. “Mail it back to me with a check for the retainer at my home address. What’s the fax number for the hotel?”

  Rena told her the number. “I may bring the money to you myself. I want to come back to Santee for a few days. Baxter doesn’t know I’m here, and I’m going crazy with nothing to do but go to the hospital and return to the hotel.”

  “That’s up to you. Just make sure the doctors know how to contact you.”

  “They have my cell phone number. I’ll let you know tomorrow if I’m coming home.”

  After she hung up the phone, Alexia poured herself a glass of water. Rena needed a champion. She didn’t deserve anything that had happened to her, and even if Alexia had to eventually withdraw from the case, she could start her in the right direction.

  Alexia was up early in the morning. After fixing a cup of coffee, she prepared a short contract for Rena to sign. She faxed it to the hotel in Greenville and then took her coffee onto the screened porch. It was the coolest morning of the month and the mist clung closely to the warm surface of the water in the marsh. She heard her cell phone ring and walked back into the kitchen. It was Rachel Downey. The realtor’s chipper voice jarred her ear.

  “I hope I didn’t call too early,” she said.

  “No, I’ve been working.”

  “I have good news. The owners of the house have made a great counteroffer. If you can add fifteen hundred to the purchase price and guarantee closing within thirty days, we have a deal. They’re even willing to let you take possession and begin renovation before closing if you can pay five thousand dollars as earnest money.”

  Alexia didn’t jump with glee. “Five thousand is a lot for earnest money.”

  “Yes, but gaining immediate access would give you a head start in fixing it up. You could probably close one day and move in the next.”

  Having an office was important, but the negotiator in Alexia rose to the surface.

  “We’re close, but not there yet,” she said. “They must want to sell badly. What did their realtor tell you?”

  “Nothing, but he called me back within an hour after I faxed over a copy of the proposed contract. It’s obvious they want to turn it around quickly.”

  “I want the contractor who is going to do the renovations to look at the house. There may be something we’ve missed, and I don’t want a serious problem to come up later that costs a lot of money to repair.”

  “How much time do you need? If the sellers are willing to cut their price so much, this house won’t stay on the market very long. A speculator will snatch it up and sell it for a profit.”

  “I’ll call him this morning and check his schedule. Are you going to be around so he can get into the house?”

  “Yes. I’ll be here at the office. This is my paperwork day.”

  “I’ll call you back as soon as I have a time.”

  After Alexia clicked off the phone, she looked up Ted Morgan’s number in the phone book. His name wasn’t listed, so she called the church. The answering machine gave her the number, and she dialed it. The minister answered in a voice that sounded sleepy.

  “Ted, this is Alexia Lindale. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

  “That’s okay. I was up late last night.”

  “Do you want me to call later?” she asked.

  “No. What do you need?”

  “It’s about the house I mentioned to you yesterday. Could you look at it later
this morning?”

  Alexia could hear Ted yawn. “Yeah. What time?”

  “About eleven o’clock would be good. I’ll call the realtor so she can meet us there.”

  “Okay. Give me the street address.”

  Alexia gave him the information.

  Alexia spent the next two hours talking on the phone and typing correspondence. She even drafted a motion to file in Eleanor Vox’s case. While she was printing out her pleadings, she heard a fax coming into the machine beside her desk. It was the contract she’d sent to Rena Richardson. As the paper slowly exited the machine, Alexia waited for the signature line to appear. Rena had signed the agreement and attached a short note.

  I’m driving home today. Call me about a meeting. I have the ten thousand.

  It was almost time to meet with Ted and Rachel Downey, so Alexia didn’t immediately call Rena. She laid the contract on her computer table, took out an empty folder, and typed a label: Richardson v. Richardson. She put the contract in the file. It was official. The first new case of her life as a sole practitioner had begun.

  Rachel Downey’s sedan was in the driveway of the house. Behind it was an old-model white pickup truck with several pieces of scrap lumber in the back. Alexia parked along the curb. As she walked past Ted’s truck, she looked in the front seat and saw a compact disk of a pianist performing Debussy.

  Rachel and Ted were inside the house. Alexia opened the front door and heard their voices coming from the back of the house.

  “Hello!” she called out.

  Rachel stuck her head into the hallway. “We’re in the kitchen.”

  Alexia joined them. Ted was wearing painter’s overalls. His hair was disheveled, and some sandy dirt stuck to his left cheek and across the front of his clothes.

  “I’ve already been under the house,” he said. “There is evidence of old termite problems but no serious damage. You’ll need to treat the house again as a preventative, but the foundation is solid. Inside it looks fine.

  I’m about to check out the attic.”

  There was a pull-down ladder in the main hallway. Ted grabbed the thin rope attached to the cover and lowered the ladder to the floor. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a flashlight and quickly climbed up into the darkened area above the ceiling. Rachel and Alexia could hear his footsteps overhead.