Tabby and Vicky, the receptionists, were tipsy after two glasses. Even Olivia, the ancient bookkeeper, kicked up her heels and was soon laughing at everything.
The money was spent, re-spent, overspent, until everyone was rich.
When the champagne was gone, the office closed and everyone left. The Paytons, their cheeks warm from the bubbly, went to their apartment, changed into casual clothes, then drove to the school to fetch Mack and Liza. They had earned a night of fun, though the children were too young to understand the settlement. It would never be mentioned.
Mack and Liza were expecting Ramona, and when they saw both parents in the school pickup line, a long day instantly became brighter. Wes explained that they simply got tired of working and decided to play. The first stop was Baskin-Robbins for ice cream. Next, they went to a shopping mall, where a shoe store attracted their attention.
Each Payton picked out a pair, at 50 percent off, with Mack being the boldest with a pair of Marine combat boots. In the center of the mall was a four-screen cinema.
They caught the 6:00 p.m. showing of the latest Harry Potter.
Dinner was at a family pizzeria with an indoor playground and a rowdy atmosphere.
They finally made it home around ten, where Ramona was watching television and enjoying the quiet. The kids handed her leftover pizza, and both talked at once about the movie. They promised to finish their homework in the morning. Mary Grace relented, and the entire family settled onto the sofa and watched a reality rescue show. Bedtime was pushed back to eleven.
When the apartment was quiet and the kids tucked in, Wes and Mary Grace lay on the sofa, heads on opposite ends, legs tangled together, minds drifting far away. For the past four years, as their finances had spiraled downward, with one loss after another, one humiliation following the last, fear had become a daily companion. Fear of losing the home, then the office, then the autos. Fear of not being able to provide for their children. Fear of a serious medical emergency that exceeded their insurance.
Fear of losing the Baker trial. Fear of bankruptcy if the bank pushed too hard.
Since the verdict, the fear had become more of a nuisance than a constant threat.
It was always there, but they had slowly gained control of it. For six straight months now, they had paid the bank $2,000 a month, hard-earned moneys that were left over after all other bills and expenses. It barely covered the interest, and it reminded them of how insurmountable their debt was. But it was symbolic. They were digging out from the rubble and could see the light.
Now, for the first time in years, there was a cushion, a safety net, something to catch them if they fell even deeper. They would take their share of today's settlement and hide it, and when they were afraid again, they would be comforted by their buried treasure.
At ten the following morning, Wes dropped by the bank and found Huffy at his desk.
He swore him to silence, then whispered the good news. Huffy almost hugged him. Mr.
Prickhead was on his back from nine to five, demanding action.
"The money should be here in a couple of weeks," Wes said proudly. "I'll call as soon as it lands.?
"Fifty grand, Wes?" Huffy repeated, as if his job had just been saved.
"You got it.?
From there Wes drove to his office. Tabby handed him a phone message from Alan York.
Just routine stuff, probably some details to nail down.
But York's voice lacked its usual warmth. "Wes, there's a new wrinkle," he said slowly, as if searching for words.
"What's the matter?" Wes asked. A knot was already forming in his stomach.
"I don't know, Wes, I'm really frustrated, and confused. This has never happened to me, but, well, anyway, Littun Casualty has nipped on the settlement. It's off the table, all of it. They're yanking it. Some tough A-holes. I've been yelling at them all morning. They yell back. This firm has represented the company for eighteen years, never had a problem like this. But, as of one hour ago, they are looking for another firm. I've fired the client. I gave you my word, and now my client has hung me out to dry. I'm sorry, Wes. Don't know what else to say.?
Wes pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to groan. After a false start, he said, "Well, Alan, this is a shock.?
"Damned right it is, but in all fairness it does no harm to the lawsuit. I'm just glad this didn't happen the day before the trial or something crazy like that. Some real bad boys up there.?
"They won't be so tough at trial.?
"Damned right, Wes. I hope you nail these guys for another huge verdict.?
"We will.?
"I'm sorry, Wes.?
"It's not your fault, Alan. We'll survive and push for a trial.?
"You do that.?
"We'll talk later.?
"Sure. Say, Wes, is your cell phone nearby
"It's right here.?
"Here's my cell number. Hang up and call me back.?
When both men were off" the landlines, York said, "You didn't hear this from me, okay
"Okay.?
"The chief in-house lawyer for Littun Casualty is a guy named Ed Larrimore. For twenty years he was a partner in a New York law firm called Bradley & Backstrom. His brother is also a partner at that firm. Bradley & Backstrom does the blue-chip thing, and one of its clients is KDN, the oil exploration firm whose biggest shareholder is Carl Trudeau. That's the connection. I have never talked to Ed Larrimore, there's no reason to. But the supervising attorney I deal with whispered to me that a decision was made at the very top to stiff this settlement.?
"A little retribution, huh
"Smells like it. It's nothing illegal or unethical. The insurance company decides not to settle and goes to trial. Happens every day. There's nothing you can do about it, except burn them at trial. Littun Casualty has assets of twenty billion, so they aren't worried about a jury in Pike County, Mississippi. My guess is they'll drag it out until you get to trial, then try to settle.?
"I'm not sure what to say, Alan.?
"I'm sorry this happened, Wes. I'm out of the picture now, and you didn't get this from me.?
"Sure.?
Wes stared at the wall for a long time, then mustered the energy to stand, walk, leave his office, and go look for his wife.
Chapter 25
Like clockwork, Ron Fisk kissed Doreen goodbye at the front door at six o'clock on a Wednesday morning, then handed his overnight bag and briefcase to Monte. Guy was waiting in the SUV Both assistants waved to Doreen, then they sped away. It was the last Wednesday in September, week twenty-one of his campaign, and the twenty-first consecutive Wednesday that he had kissed his wife goodbye at 6:00 a.m. Tony Zachary could not have found a more disciplined candidate.
In the rear seat, Monte handed Ron his daily briefing. One of Tony's deputies in Jackson prepared it during the night and e-mailed it to Monte at exactly five each morning. Page 1 was the schedule. Page 2 was a summary of the three groups he would address that day, along with the names of the important people who would attend.
Page 3 had updates from his opponents' campaigns. It was all mainly gossip but still his favorite part of the briefing. Clete Coley was last seen addressing a small group of sheriffs' deputies in Hancock County, then retiring to the blackjack tables at Pirate's Cove. Today, McCarthy is expected to be at work and has no campaign events.
Page 4 was the financial summary. Contributions so far totaled $1.7 million, with 75 percent coming from within the state. Expenditures of $1.8 million. The deficit was of no concern. Tony Zachary knew the heavy money would arrive in October. McCarthy had received $1.4 million, virtually all from trial lawyers. She had spent half of it. The prevailing thought in the Fisk camp was that the trial lawyers were tapped out. They were at the airport. The King Air lifted off at 6:30, and at that moment Fisk was on the phone to Tony in Jackson. It was their first chat of the day. Everything was running smoothly. Fisk had already reached the point of believing that all campaigns were so effortless. He was always prompt, fresh, prepared, rested, well financed, and ready to move on to the next event. He had little contact with the two dozen people under Tony's thumb who sweated the details.
Justice McCarthy's version of the daily briefing was a glass of fruit juice with Nat Lester at her Jackson headquarters. She aimed for 8:30 each morning, and was fairly prompt. By then, Nat had put in two hours and was yelling at people.
They had no interest in the whereabouts of her two opponents. They spent little time with poll numbers. Their data showed her running even with Fisk, and that was troubling enough. They quickly reviewed the latest fund-raising schemes and talked about potential donors.
"I may have a new problem," she said that morning.
"Only one
"Do you remember the Frankie Hightower case
"Not at this moment, no.?
"State trooper was gunned down in Grenada County five years ago. He stopped a car for speeding. Inside the car were three black men and a black teenager, Frankie Hightower.
Someone opened fire with an assault weapon, and the trooper got hit eight times.
Left him in the middle of Highway 51.?
"Let me guess. The court has reached a decision.?
"The court is getting close. Six of my colleagues are ready to affirm the conviction.?
"Let me guess. You would like to dissent.?
"I'm going to dissent. The kid had inadequate counsel. His defense lawyer was some jackass with no experience and apparently very little intelligence. The trial was a joke. The other three thugs pled for life and pointed the finger at Hightower, who was sixteen years old and sitting in the backseat, without a gun. Yes, I'm going to dissent.?
Nat's sandals hit the floor and he began to pace. Arguing the merits of the case was a waste of time. Arguing the politics of it would take some skill. "Coley will go ballistic.?
"I don't care about Coley. He's a clown.?
"Clowns get votes.?
"He's not a factor.?
"Fisk will receive it as a wonderful gift from God. More proof that his campaign is divinely inspired. Manna from heaven. I can see the ads now.?
"I'm dissenting, Nat. It's that simple.?
"It's never that simple. Some of the voters might understand what you're doing and admire your courage. Perhaps three or four of them. The rest will see the Fisk ad with the smiling face of that handsome young state trooper next to the mug shot of Frankie whatever his name is.?
"Hightower.?
"Thank you. The ad will refer to liberal judges at least ten times, and it will probably show your face. Powerful stuff. You might as well quit now.?
His words trailed off but were bitter nonetheless. For a long time they said nothing.
Sheila broke the silence by saying, "That's not a bad idea. Quitting. I've caught myself reading the briefs and asking, 揥hat will the voters think if I rule this way or that I'm not a judge anymore, Nat, I'm a politician.?
"You're a great judge, Sheila. One of the three we have left.?
"It's all about politics now.?
"You're not quitting. Have you written your dissent
"I'm working on it.?
"Look, Sheila, the election is five weeks away. How slow can you write? Hell, the court is famous for taking its sweet time. Surely to God you can sit on this thing until after the election. What's five weeks? It's nothing. The murder was five years ago." He was stomping around, arms flailing.
"We do have a schedule.?
"Bullshit. You can manipulate it.?
"For politics.?
"Damned right, Sheila. Give me a break here. We're busting our asses for you and you act like you're too good for the dirty work. This is a filthy business, okay
"Lower your voice.?
He lowered it several octaves but kept pacing. Three steps to one wall, then three steps to the other. "Your dissent is not going to change a damned thing. The court will run over you again 6 to 3, maybe even 7 to 2, perhaps even 8 to 1. The numbers don't really matter. The conviction is affirmed, and Frankie Whoever will stay exactly where he is right now and where he'll be ten years from now. Don't be stupid, Sheila.?
She finished her fruit juice and did not respond.
"I don't like that smirk," Nat said. He pointed a long bony finger at her. "Listen to me. If you file a dissent before the election, I'm walking out the door.?
"Don't threaten me.?
"I'm not threatening. I'm promising. You know ten different ways to sit on that case for another five weeks. Hell, you could bury it for six months.?
She stood and said, "I'm going to work.?
"I'm not kidding!" he yelled. "I'll quit!?
She yanked open the door and said, "Go find us some money.?
Three days later, the skillfully coordinated avalanche began. Only a handful of people knew what was coming.
Ron Fisk himself did not comprehend the scope of his own saturation. He had performed for the cameras, changed into various outfits, worked his way through the scripts, dragged in his family and some friends, and he was aware of the budget and the media buys and the market shares of the various television stations in south Mississippi. And, in a normal campaign, he would have worried about financing such expensive marketing.
But the machine that bore his name had many parts he knew nothing about.
The first ads were the soft ones-warm little vignettes to open the doors and let this fine young man into the homes. Ron as a Boy Scout, with the richly accented old voice of an actor playing the role of his scoutmaster in the background. "One of the finest Boy Scouts we ever had. He made it to Eagle in less than three years.?
Ron in a robe at high school graduation, a star student. Ron with Doreen and the kids and his own voice saying, "Families are our greatest asset." After thirty seconds, the ad signed off with the slogan, in a deep, heavenly voice, "Ron Fisk, a judge with our values.?
A second ad, a series of black-and-white still photos, began with Ron on the steps of his church, in a fine dark suit, chatting with his pastor, who narrated, "Ron Fisk was ordained as a deacon in this church twelve years ago." Ron with his jacket off, teaching Sunday school. Ron holding his Bible as he makes a point to a group of teenagers under a shade tree. "Thank God for men like Ron Fisk." Ron and Doreen greeting people at the church's door. And the same farewell: "Ron Fisk, a judge with our values.?
