Life Support (34 page)

“We'll consider it on a case by case basis. Ezra is holding out an olive branch,” Leggitt said with an edge in his voice. “He doesn't have to become adversarial.”

Alexia didn't back down. “And I'm willing to cooperate, but after what has happened to the checking account, Rena will have trouble trusting her father-in-law. It will take time to prove that she is going to be treated fairly.”

Leggitt's tone relaxed. “I totally agree. Dropping the criminal charge is the first step. Our conversation is the second. Transferring the money back into the checking account is the third. Ezra realizes it will be a gradual process. A key aspect will be our communication.”

Alexia tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. In the pit of her stomach she felt she was being led astray but couldn't see how or for what motive.

“Does this mean Ezra is waiving any objection to my representation of Rena?” she asked.

“Yes. He has agreed to sign a waiver. What is Rena's position?”

“The same.”

“Good. Nobody loses.” Ralph Leggitt stood to his feet. “Call me if you have any questions. You know the number.”

28

Believe one who has proved it. Believe an expert.

VIRGIL

A
lexia stopped by Vicky's office and found the paralegal cheerful and willing to help. The firm had a small cart for moving heavy items around the office, and Alexia loaded up as many boxes of files as she could put in the trunk of her car. While pushing them down the hall toward the exit, she passed Gwen's desk.

“I'll talk to you before I leave,” Alexia whispered.

Alexia returned the empty cart and made arrangements with Vicky to retrieve the remaining boxes. Then she stopped by to see Gwen.

“Where's Leonard?” Alexia asked.

“Out of the office. Maybe the Prince sent him to the cleaners.”

Alexia chuckled. “Do you still have my résumé stored in your computer?” she asked. “I'm thinking about reapplying for a job with the firm.”

“What's going on?” Gwen responded dubiously.

“Mr. Leggitt was like sugar on strawberries. He's going to refer divorce cases to me and let me take all my files without a whimper or a fight.”

“You're kidding?”

“You saw me hauling out the boxes. Vicky even offered to help carry them to the car. I'm not sure it's on the level.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “If Ralph Leggitt is giving something with one hand, it's because he's taking four times as much with the other. You know better than to be duped.”

“You're wrong,” Alexia corrected. “He'd heard about the house I'm going to buy on King Street and offered to help me get a loan. Deep down, he's a generous, kindhearted man.”

“Stop it, Alexia. If you keep this up, my blood pressure is going into the red zone, and I'm going to have to slap you back into reality.”

Alexia smiled. “Yes, ma'am. I don't want a spanking, but until any ulterior motives are exposed, I'm going to take advantage of the opportunity to build my practice.”

“I can't blame you for that.”

“Oh,” Alexia lowered her voice. “Do you know about the new lawyer who is going to be moving into my office?”

Gwen shook her head. “No, what did he tell you?”

“He's going to do the same kind of work as Mr. Leggitt and Bruce.”

“Boring,” Gwen responded. “Forms, forms, forms.”

“Perhaps the end is in sight. When the contractor doing the renovation of my new office gets to your space, I'll let you know so you can help decorate it.”

Gwen smiled and patted Alexia's hand. “That will be fun.”

Alexia phoned Rena and left a brief message on her answering machine. Then she drove to Rachel Downey's office. The real-estate company where Rachel worked occupied a commercial building that had previously been an accounting office. The reception area was nicely furnished, and there were two conference rooms.

“The office is not what you're used to,” the realtor said, “but it will work as temporary quarters.”

She led Alexia past the kitchen area and down a long hall until they reached a dead end at a door with a red exit sign over the top.

“It's on the left,” Rachel said.

They went into a room that was bigger than Alexia's office at Leggitt & Freeman but without any style. The walls were covered with thin paneling that had begun to buckle slightly along the joints. There was a thin carpet on the floor and a plain wooden desk in the middle of the room with a worn-looking leather chair behind it. A single window offered a view of the parking lot at the back of the building. A beige phone was on a small stand that looked like it would buckle under the weight of anything heavier. It was worse than Alexia had expected. Rachel saw the disappointment on Alexia's face before she could hide it.

“I wouldn't expect you to bring clients back here,” the realtor said. “You can meet with them in one of the conference rooms. Just make sure we haven't scheduled a closing or another meeting. The receptionist has a sign-up sheet that will let you know what's going on. She knows to forward your calls to this office. Your extension number is twenty-four.”

“This will work fine,” Alexia said, regaining her footing. “I just need a place so I won't be trying to practice law from my kitchen table. I have boxes of files in the car. I'll bring them in here and line them up along the wall.”

“Did you apply for a loan to buy the house?”

“Yes. I'm delivering my tax returns and bank statements later today.”

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

Alexia moved her car to the back of the building. It was just a few steps from the rear parking lot to her office. She was bringing in the final box when her cell phone rang. It was Rena. Alexia sat behind her desk and summarized her conversation with Ralph Leggitt. Rena was openly skeptical.

“This is confusing,” she said. “I'm relieved about the criminal case going away and glad you can help me, but I'm surprised about the money. It's not like Baxter's father to let go of control. I'll believe it when I see the money back in my checking account.”

“You're right. The proof will be in the practical steps they take. I'll verify with the police in Greenville that the assault and battery charges have been dropped. As soon as the money shows up in your bank account, take most of it out and deposit it in an account that is solely in your name. We also need to find out if Leggitt was telling the truth about Baxter's ownership interests in the family businesses. Do you think your source can help?”

“I'll ask him.”

“Good. I'm going to call Dr. Draughton's office in a few minutes. Ralph Leggitt didn't ask me about Baxter, and I doubt they suspect what we're planning to do. Does your source know about it?”

“Uh, why would that matter?”

“I'd like to know who is in the loop of our discussions.”

“I haven't talked to him since you and I met at the deli.”

Alexia tapped her fingers on the top of her desk. “Things are much different now than when we talked. Are you sure you want to file the petition to terminate life support at this time? Once it's filed, any cooperation with your father-in-law may go out the window. It might make sense to wait and find out more about Ezra's intentions.”

“No,” Rena said emphatically. “Do it as soon as possible.”

Alexia heard the tone of Rena's voice but didn't cave in. “At least let me delay until next week. That way there will be time for the money to be redeposited to your checking account.”

There was silence for several seconds. “After you file the papers, how long will it take for the judge to decide?”

“A hearing will have to be set and subpoenas issued to the witnesses. If one of the doctors can't come in person, we will have to take his deposition. Under normal circumstances it could take several months to work through the process—”

“Months!” Rena blurted out.

“But this is an extraordinary proceeding. Realistically, it will take at least seven to ten days to schedule a hearing. The judge will set it based on his or her court calendar; however, it will be a quick ruling.”

“That's what I want. As quick as possible. A few thousand dollars in a checking account is not as important to me as Baxter. No matter what happens, I think we'll end up in a fight with my father-in-law.”

“Before you make up your mind, let me talk to Dr. Draughton. The strength of his opinion may help us decide.”

Rena spoke slowly. “Okay, if that's what you recommend. Call me back as soon as you talk to him.”

Alexia put the phone down on the scratched surface of the desk and stared at the wall for a few seconds. Her conversation with her new client made one thing crystal clear. Rena Richardson might have forgiven Baxter, but she didn't want him to live.

Ted Morgan was on a ladder at the highest corner of Marylou Hobart's rickety house. He hummed the opening measures of the
Sonata in B Minor
by Franz Liszt as he probed the soffit for rotten wood. The old woman was leaning on her cane near the bottom of the ladder and peering up at him through thick glasses. Mrs. Hobart was a nonpaying customer. She wasn't even a member of the Sandy Flats congregation. But the need for a carpenter, painter, and handyman is universal, and Ted occasionally performed volunteer work for people in the community. A church member mentioned Mrs. Hobart to Ted as a person who needed help, and since then Ted had made many trips to the elderly woman's home.

Mrs. Hobart lived in the same house where she had been born. She'd married and moved away to Alabama, but when her husband had died, she had returned to Santee and the place where her life had begun. The frame house had weathered two hurricanes, but the cumulative effects of the coastal weather had taken their toll. Ted was frustrated that every repair revealed two more problems, but his affection for Mrs. Hobart overcame any resentment. The old woman was so deaf that she could barely hear Ted hammering a nail in the next room, and their conversations were like separate speeches that would tangentially intersect.

When he asked her how old she was, Mrs. Hobart replied in a crackly voice, “1742 Franklin Road. Years ago it used to be 1246, but they built more houses and changed the numbers. Don't ask me how they figure it.”

“I'm forty-five!” Ted yelled.

Mrs. Hobart squinted at him. “I'd say that's about right. By the time my husband, Harry, was your age, he was bald as an egg. He only had a little fringe over his ears that was more trouble than it was worth. He should have changed his name. You have such nice, thick hair.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. I should thank you for all you're doing around this place. Did you know we didn't have running water in the house until Dwight Truman was president?”

“That's Harry Truman,” Ted shouted.

“Not my husband,” Mrs. Hobart replied in exasperation. “The president of this here country. Are you married? I don't see no wedding ring on your finger.”

“No, ma'am.”

“Why not? You have a fine head of hair and are handy around the house.”

“I'm divorced.”

“Delores? I don't know who you're talking about. I don't get out much no more. But I'd like to meet her. What does she like to eat?”

At that moment Alexia Lindale flashed across Ted's thoughts, and he asked himself the same question. He'd offered her steak without trying to find out what she liked to eat. Her food preferences were unknown territory.

“I don't know!”

“You're not skinny. You must be a good cook. Ask her over to your house and feed her yourself.” Mrs. Hobart wagged a wrinkled finger. “And she'll ask you back if 'n she has any manners at all.”

And so, in a roundabout way, Mrs. Hobart confirmed Ted's decision to act on his tentative interest in Alexia Lindale.

Alexia phoned Dr. Draughton's office. She'd researched brain injuries on the Internet and prepared a series of questions that would connect the practical effects of a severe head trauma to the legal guidelines for termination of life support. There was no answer on the physician's private number, so she waded through three levels of prerecorded voice prompts before reaching a live person who paged the doctor's nurse. The nurse came on the line, and after Alexia explained her mission, the nurse put her on hold while she talked to the doctor. Ten minutes later Alexia was still waiting. As time passed, Alexia discovered that someone had carved his or her initials on the lip of the desk in her office. She then completed a series of complicated doodles across the top of her legal pad.

Finally, the doctor picked up the phone. Within a few minutes, Alexia concluded that if the physician's demeanor on the witness stand was as effective as his telephone voice, he would make an excellent witness.

“What was your initial assessment of Baxter's condition?”

“It was obvious from external trauma that the patient had received a severe blow to the head. He had a stellate skull fracture with multiple linear fracture lines diverging from a central point of impact. By history, I knew that he had fallen from a cliff and struck his head on a large rock. This was consistent with the trauma observed by examination and plain x-ray films.”

“What effect did this blow have on his brain?”

“He had severe localized swelling in the area of the fracture, and a significant subdural hemorrhage that increased in size during the forty-eight hours after his injury. All of this is documented on successive MRI scans and the readings from an intracranial pressure monitor.”

“Do you have copies of the scans in your office?”

“Yes.”

Alexia made a note in the margin of her legal pad. “Could you make them available to a medical illustrator and then review the drawings prepared for accuracy?”