“It’s a big firm.” Corbin nodded confidently. “Unless her boss is asked to assist in the case, there’s a good chance it won’t ever come up.”
“How can you be so sure? You’ve never worked for an international law firm.”
“Neither have you,” Corbin shot back.
Ray checked his watch. “I don’t want to call her at the office. I’ll wait until this evening.”
“I think you should call her now,” Corbin replied. “But what do I know? I’m just a simpleminded country lawyer.”
“Who needs to put a DUI charge behind him,” Ray replied, changing the subject. “Let me read the plea offer.”
Corbin took the envelope from his pocket and gave it to Ray, who read the letter.
“This is a relief,” he said. “Steve isn’t going to give you special treatment.”
“I want special treatment.”
“Not the kind I’m talking about. He’s going to let you plead to reckless driving. That’s a break. But you’ll receive the same punishment as if you pleaded guilty to DUI.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Remember, Dad, you are in fact guilty.” Ray continued reading. “You’ll have to pay a thousand-dollar fine, no jail time other than the night you were arrested, complete drunk driving school, and serve three months’ probation.”
“That’s a hefty fine. Three hundred dollars would be better. You sound more like a prosecutor than a defense lawyer,” Corbin said grumpily.
“Do you want to fight this or put it behind you? You’ll have until the day before you’re scheduled to appear in court to accept the deal, then it will disappear. As your lawyer I’m recommending you take the offer.”
“Let me think about it,” Corbin said.
Ray tossed the letter onto the desk in disgust.
“Okay, I’ve thought about it. I’ll take the deal,” Corbin said. “May you be able to persuade all your clients to take your advice as quickly as you did me.”
“And may I never defend you in another DUI case.”
Roxy made it through lunch without having an overt panic attack; however, she suspected any good first impression she’d made on Ted Daughbert had vanished like the dirty plates at the end of the meal. Every time she looked at the litigator, she imagined him standing in the same courtroom as Corbin Gage. Whether done with a three-inch surgical scalpel or a five-foot broadsword, the result would be the same—death to her father’s case.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Caldweller asked her at one point. “Do you have a headache?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, you’re not holding up your end of the conversation. Ted isn’t interested in my old war stories. He’d like to hear a few of yours.”
“Uh, which one do you suggest? You know everything I’ve done,” Roxy said, then suddenly realized it wasn’t true. “I mean, almost everything.”
“Tell him about the motion for sanctions you argued last year in front of Judge Palmore.” Caldweller turned to Daughbert. “He’s a federal judge in the southern district who hates lawyers. By the time Roxy left, he was tossing out compliments like candy at a birthday party.”
Roxy forced herself to retell the incident, but her conduct now seemed self-serving and petty. Daughbert listened politely, then glanced at his watch.
“Byron, I’d like to have a bit of time back at the office before my flight. I have a few ideas on the fertilizer case that I want to run by our local counsel. I also need to give him his marching orders for the next week or so.”
“Sure. I hope you enjoyed the food.”
“It was sufficiently paleo,” Daughbert replied with a wink at Roxy.
“All I saw were hunter-gatherer items on your plate,” she managed to respond.
Mr. Caldweller gave a short huff in reply.
Riding in the car on the return trip, Roxy wondered if Daughbert would stop by for a final interview chat before leaving town. He’d already had one chance to see the name Roxanne Gage on the door without asking if she was related to Corbin Gage, counsel for the plaintiffs in the spurious lawsuit against Colfax Fertilizer Company. Given a second chance at name identification, Daughbert was much more likely to connect the familial dots.
As soon as she was safely inside her office, Roxy closed the door, logged onto her computer, and deleted all her e-mail communication with Dr. Sellers. She then called him on her cell phone. She popped a caramel in her mouth while she waited and hoped he would answer. Instead she got his voice mail and left him a message to call her private number. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to say to the chemist, but she hoped inspiration would come in the heat of the moment.
Corbin left without telling Janelle where he was going. A legal pad in his hand, he walked across the street to the courthouse. Going to the main courtroom, he peeked inside. It was empty and was church-sanctuary quiet until the old wooden floor creaked beneath his feet. He sat on one of the back benches.
Inside the front pocket of his shirt was a copy of the Twelve Steps. The sheet of paper had been folded and unfolded so many times that the creases made a permanent grid. Corbin got up and walked down the aisle to the front of the courtroom, stopping in the familiar spot where he’d stood on countless occasions before a human judge. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone, he cleared his throat and in his best courtroom voice read all Twelve Steps out loud:
1. “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”
Corbin then laid his copy of the Twelve Steps on the bench as if presenting it to a judge. He stood in silence, his head bowed. After a few moments he opened his eyes and glanced around. Nothing in the courtroom had changed. He didn’t feel any different.
But he believed the Judge who mattered had heard his testimony.
FORTY-SIX
Ray called the DA’s office. The receptionist who answered the phone insisted on chatting with him for a couple of minutes.
“We really miss you over here,” she said.
“Who’s included in that ‘we’?” Ray asked.
“Yours truly and most of the police force. The detectives knew when they brought you a case you’d handle it properly.”
Ray was tempted to uncork a bottle of gossip, but resisted. “Is Brett available?” he asked.
“Yes.” The receptionist lowered her voice. “He keeps asking me for files you worked on so he can see what you did in the cases.”
“I did the same thing when I started working for Jimbo.”
“No, you didn’t,” she responded with a short laugh. “All Jimbo could teach you was to act political and chew tobacco.”
“And I wasn’t interested in either.”
“I’ll put you through to Brett.”
While he waited on hold, Ray did a quick internal check to se
e if he missed the DA’s office. By the preponderance of the evidence he could say no.
“How’s it going?” he asked when Brett picked up the phone.
Ray was unprepared for the floodgate his polite comment opened. For over thirty minutes he answered a steady stream of questions about how to function as an assistant DA.
“That’s it for now,” Brett finally said. “Thanks so much. Is it okay if I run stuff by you later?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Wait a minute,” Ray quickly interjected. “I called you.”
“Right. What can I do for you?”
“I’m calling about my father’s DUI charge. Do I need to talk to Steve about it?”
Brett was silent for a moment. “No, I’ll be the one in the courtroom when it comes up. However, I can’t modify the terms of the offer without Steve’s okay. And I don’t think he’s going to budge.”
“That’s not why I called. My father will take the deal. When is the next calendar call so we can enter the plea and get this behind him?”
“I’m sure I can tack it onto the end of the calendar on Thursday.”
“Pencil it in. That way there won’t be a bunch of people gawking at him.”
The call ended. Ray left his office and walked across the reception area toward his father’s office to tell him, but Janelle intercepted him.
“He’s not there,” she said.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is Thursday morning around eleven clear?”
“Yes. The first thing he has is a deposition after lunch.”
Roxy spent an anxious afternoon dreading a follow-up visit from Ted Daughbert and hoping for a return call from Dr. Sellers. Neither occurred. She was in her car leaving the parking deck when her phone vibrated and she saw Ray’s name. She pulled into a vacant space and answered the phone.
“Your firm has been associated by Simpkin, Brown, and Stamper to represent Colfax in the lawsuit Dad filed,” Ray said without any preamble. “I didn’t want you to get blindsided—”
“Too late,” Roxy cut in. “I had lunch today with Ted Daughbert, the litigation partner from Chicago who’s on the case.”
“Oh no,” Ray replied, his voice deflated.
“It wasn’t a total disaster. He didn’t make the connection with me and should be on a plane back to Chicago by now.”
“Whew. Why did he have lunch with you?”
“He’s a member of the partnership review committee. Mr. Caldweller was also there.”
“How did the case come up?” Ray asked. “Wait, you can’t say anything about it.”
“Correct, and I’m going to be hanging over a cliff by a thread for who knows how long, worrying that someone at the firm is going to connect one Gage lawyer to another.”
“What if this Daughbert guy asks you to work on the case?”
It was a possibility Roxy should have considered, but in the midst of the day’s turmoil she hadn’t.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t,” she said, tight-lipped. “But we have a more immediate problem—Dr. Sellers. I’ve hired an expert to help you in litigation my firm is defending.”
“Right.”
“And that’s not all. Daughbert knows Sellers and may be contacting him too.”
“Wait, what’s the connection between them?”
“Daughbert’s specialty is chemical exposure litigation, and he’s used Dr. Sellers as an expert in the past.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, and he’s litigated at least one case with similar facts that didn’t go well for the plaintiff. And that’s more than I should probably tell you.”
Ray was silent for a moment.
“I’ve been stressed out all afternoon,” Roxy continued. “I have a call in to Sellers, and as soon as I hear from him I’ll tell him to deal directly with you about the results of his testing.”
“Okay, but what if Daughbert follows through and contacts Sellers too?”
“Sellers will have to disqualify himself. When he does, I’m going to ask him to keep my name out of the conversation.”
“But Daughbert will figure out—”
“Yes! He probably will!” Roxy exploded. “And not only will I not become a partner, I won’t have a job!” She was so mad she wanted to throw the phone onto the floorboard of the car.
“I’m sorry,” Ray said.
“It’s just another way our father is trying to destroy our lives! We both told him to drop this case. It’s a loser that has already cost you a job you’d worked hard to get, and now it’s about to blow up my career. And I’m not moving back to Alto to work at Gage and Gage!”
“It’s not Gage and Gage. I just needed a place to land until I can figure out my next step.”
Roxy wanted to keep on venting, but she realized she had the wrong person on the other end of the phone.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, trying to calm down. “And I should have been more upset over what happened to you. I mean, you have a family to support and a baby on the way. But here we are, and I don’t know what else to do.”
“Would it be okay if I called Dr. Sellers directly?”
“Of course; you’re going to have to finish up with him on the substantive stuff for the case. I am completely out of the loop. But don’t expect any good news. He’s not a hack who massages a report to please the folks paying his bill.”
“And he’s doing this gratis.”
Roxy didn’t correct him. After the call ended, she sent a text to Peter telling him she needed to see him. To her relief he immediately responded and told her where to be in thirty minutes.
Corbin attached his boat trailer to his truck. He’d wanted to call Cindy and invite Billy to join him for a quick fishing trip before suppertime, but knew that would defeat the purpose for his excursion. Corbin needed to be alone. He needed to be away from the liquor bottles in the kitchen cupboard that had been calling his name ever since he came home early from the office. He needed to be in a secluded place where he could think clearly without interruption. He needed to be in a place where he could pray.
Leaving his fishing gear and tackle box on the shelves in the carport, he drove slowly down the driveway and turned in the direction of Braswell’s Pond. Backing the trailer up into the edge of the water, he released the winch and climbed into the boat. All he took with him were a legal pad and a pen. He didn’t start the engine, but paddled to the middle of the pond and dropped the anchor. As soon as the wake caused by the boat subsided, the water was glassy smooth.
Ponds and lakes had always been places of peace for Corbin in the midst of the constant storms of his life. Being on the water settled his thoughts and calmed the constant churning of his soul. Today no mason jar in a cooler distracted him. Taking out the legal pad, he wrote Ray’s name at the top of the first page. Then he turned over a few sheets and wrote Roxy. Turning over a few more sheets, he wrote another name. Then he bowed his head. After a few moments he raised it. And started to write.
Corbin left the pond in time to make it to the evening AA meeting at the Hopewell church. He was glad to see Max’s vehicle in the parking lot. It was a Big Book meeting, and the topic was chapter 4, “We Agnostics.” As the female leader read several excerpts, Corbin realized how far he’d come in his spiritual understanding and belief. Sentences he would have completely identified with a few weeks earlier no longer described his status.
One unique feature of the Big Book’s presentation on all topics was the use of “we.” When referring to a doubter, the text was inclusive—“We know how he feels. We have shared his honest doubt and prejudice. Some of us have been violently anti-religious.” The Big Book didn’t point fingers; it held out its arms. Then the leader read a passage that stunned Corbin—“We looked askance at many individuals who claimed to be godly . . . And who could comprehend a Supreme Being anyhow? Yet, in other moments, we found ourselves thinking, when enchanted by a starl
it night, ‘Who made all this?’ There was a feeling of awe and wonder . . .”
“That exact thing happened to me the other night!” Corbin blurted, then put his hand over his mouth. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay,” the leader responded. “Do you want to tell us about it?”
Corbin related his experience on the front steps of his duplex.
“Have you read chapter 4?” the leader asked when he finished.
“No.”
“You might want to,” the leader said. “It will confirm what happened.”
A man in the circle spoke up. “I don’t want to jump ahead, but would it be okay if I read from the last pages of the chapter?”
“Sure,” the leader said. “There’s no harm in knowing where the discussion will end.”
The book made its way around the circle to the man.
“The chapter ends with the story of a minister’s son who lost his faith and came to the point of suicide,” the man said. “Then he cries out in frustration and an answer comes.”
He flipped several pages and cleared his throat. “ ‘Who are you to say there is no God?’ This man recounts that he tumbled out of bed to his knees. In a few seconds he was overwhelmed by a conviction of the Presence of God. It poured over and through him with the certainty and majesty of a great tide at flood. The barriers he had built through the years were swept away. He stood in the Presence of Infinite Power and Love . . . Even so has God restored us all to our right minds. To this man, the revelation was sudden. Some of us grow into it more slowly. But He has come to all who have honestly sought Him.’ ”
Corbin knew he was listening to truth, not because of natural discernment honed in the courtroom, but because the inner witness who spoke to him in front of his house confirmed the words at the deepest level of his being.
A House Divided Page 33
