The Jezebel Remedy (29 page)

“We do sue him,” Joe declared. “As soon as we hit Henry County.” He fixed her with a look. “Because somebody needs to put things right. This SOB is a crook who most likely killed Lettie. Or tried to. He shouldn't be allowed to just sail away in his fancy boat without even breaking a sweat.”

“Okay,” she said, smiled. “I'm with you.” She moved her knee so it touched his.

“But first, since we're going to wind up bankrupt and annihilated anyhow, courtesy of Seth the ‘Sprockets' prince, let's go waste some cash and wingding this town and limp home with zero sleep and a big fat hangover.”

“Do you need to call a shareholders' meeting, or can we just get started?”

“This is about as big as it gets,” Robert Williams declared after reading the Stones' draft of Joe's lawsuit against Benecorp, Neal VanSandt and Seth Garrison. Lisa had also outlined the facts before Williams studied the complaint, summarizing everything she and Joe had learned. “Jumbo.”

Williams was behind the desk in his office, rimless reading glasses balanced at the bottom of his nose. It was June solstice, the twenty-first, and he was wearing a stylish summer suit. He'd been raised in nearby Danville, done a stint as a Harvard professor, then returned to the area and opened a general practice with his brother. Behind him, alongside diplomas and framed awards, was a photograph showing him installed as the first black president of the local bar. “What do you think, Phil?”

“I think if we can prove it, it's heavy-duty,” Phil Anderson replied. A lawyer's lawyer and politely fierce in court, he'd driven from Roanoke for the meeting. He'd listened to Lisa as well—sat impassive and attentive—and then perused his own copy of the suit papers, taking longer than Williams to finish. “We'll all need agents and magazine-quality head shots if we win. But ultimately we're looking at an oath fest in front of a federal jury, and most people generally aren't sympathetic to lawyers trolling for money. Plus, we'll be a couple years before it's tried. The time and cost will be enormous, though I'm happy to do my part for free.”

“We'll carry as much of the load as we can,” Lisa assured him.

“Yeah, I'm certainly not expecting my friends and colleagues
to pay me,” Williams noted. “But travel and depositions and court reporters—it won't be cheap. Naturally, I don't need to tell you that.”

“Appreciate the offer,” Joe said, “but we intend to pay full freight.”

“I'm not concerned about fees,” Anderson insisted. “I'm not about to charge you. Let's not waste time arguing about it.”

“The other problem I see,” Williams said, “is that there's no hard evidence connecting Lettie's son to Seth Garrison. I'm sure Garrison won't admit the underlying deal, and I'm guessing the son won't, either. If it's fraud, we have the burden of proof at clear and convincing evidence. Never easy.”

“If it's mutual mistake of fact,” Anderson continued, “if we end up on that road and Garrison wasn't behind the curtain and there's no provable link on his part, we'll have to convince a jury that the two sophisticated lawyers who handled Miss VanSandt's affairs were equally as ignorant as her layperson son miles away.”

“From the little bit I know,” Williams added, “this Neal's on the simple side, and a jury's bound to feel sorry for him.”

“Toliver has found the call that went from Henry County to Garrison,” Joe said. “He told me day before yesterday. Unfortunately, the number Rousch—or whoever she is—used is a dead end. Still, the call from here puts Garrison and Benecorp in the loop, shows they were involved and had knowledge months ahead of my renouncing. We're supposed to believe that Neal just lucked into this? That Benecorp only spoke with him
after
he shows up in our office with his own damn waiver?”

“Strong inferences for our case,” Williams agreed. “But we still have a lot of proving to do.” He twisted in his chair, changed positions. The chair's swivel springs creaked, the sound worn and metallic. “I've seen worse odds, of course. One way or the other, we'll make it to a jury and have a shot. But to state the obvious, this will most likely be a life-changer for you and your law office. You're putting your reputation and credibility on the line in a fashion that will seem shady to the average person. Garrison will take your hide off in the press. He'll crucify you both.”

“We understand this'll be a firefight,” Lisa said. “That's why we asked the two best lawyers we know to help us. Truth be told, I'm more worried about Garrison's threat, his promise we're already sunk but just
don't realize it.” The air conditioner cut off, and the room became quieter, the floor registers finished until the temperature warmed a few degrees.

“Why, exactly, do you want to tackle this?” Anderson asked.

Lisa answered quickly. “With Joe, it's basically the justice involved. You both know how he is. He thinks Garrison should be punished, and he thinks Benecorp ripped him off and flimflammed him, and it's not in his nature to take a beating and do nothing. Honestly, if the VV 108 was worth a buck fifty, we'd still be right here with the complaint ready to file. That's just Joe.”

“For Lisa,” Joe said, “it's the money, plain and simple. She's betting that Lettie's alive and we'll be the forty percent owner of a miracle cure.”

They all laughed. “The money
and
doing my level best to help my husband, whom I love very much,” she said, her expression animated.

“You guys have any guesses what his dragon might be?” Joe asked. “How he plans to ‘annihilate' us?”

“Did you take it as a physical threat?” Anderson directed the question to Lisa.

She shook her head. “No, he's too smart for that, though there was a moment on his boat when I was worried he might hurt us. We've been through it a million times and we're still stumped.”

“Legally, holographic wills always cause complications,” Williams said. “But that can't be the issue if he really said he'd annihilate you—we've all lost cases and had our hats handed to us. There must be something supremely personal about it if I'm understanding the context of his threat. Any skeletons Phil and I need to know about? Any weak spots?”

“Just the usual stuff,” Joe answered. “We've run an honest practice, and beyond an occasional hangover and some high jinks in college, we're pretty ordinary. Unless horseback riding and hunting and showing up for work are crimes, I should be okay.”

“Yeah, nothing comes to mind,” Lisa said, though she was immediately scared a blush or splotch or blink might let on she wasn't being completely truthful. She held her complaint copy in front of her and bowed as if she were reviewing it. “Feel free to change or tweak whatever you want,” she told Williams, eager to leave the topic.

“And we have absolutely no idea what this wound medicine is supposed to do?” Anderson asked.

“Correct,” Joe said.

“No clue what it's worth?” Anderson asked.

“Correct,” Joe repeated.

“Our threshold witness is a fired Benecorp employee with a documented history of mental health failings?”

Joe slid forward in his chair. “Sad but true.”

“And
you
think it's possible Seth Garrison had a hand in Miss VanSandt's death?” Anderson was wearing a bow tie and a dark blue suit. He adjusted the bow tie, tugging on each side.

“Yep,” Joe said.

“But Lisa's reasonably certain that Miss VanSandt's not even dead?”

“You got it,” Joe answered.

“I saw her myself,” Lisa said. “All this lawing and litigating is really just a tactic, as far as I'm concerned. An opportunity to push and probe Benecorp. I agree with filing the complaint, but I'm betting this suit won't matter one whit in the end. If I'm wrong, well, our suit still puts us where we need to be—in court.”

“Hot damn,” Anderson said. “We're off to a great start. Won't be long—we're all going to look like geniuses or total dumb-asses pretty soon. I'm glad the kids are almost through with college. At least that's taken care of if we go down in flames.”

“Let's not forget”—Williams was smiling—“if Garrison did have Lettie murdered, he'll probably receive the key to the city and a reward for his public service. The day news of her death hit, Henry County sold out of fireworks and dancing shoes by closing time.”

Less than an hour after Lisa returned from the meeting with Robert Williams and Phil Anderson, Betty buzzed to tell her there was a Mr. Robert Culp on the phone, a very panicked man with no file or record at the law office. “He said Mr. Stone normally handles his case, but since Joe isn't here he asked to speak with you. He sounds like he's scared to death.”

“Oh, absolutely. Sure. Put him through.”

A moment later, Dr. Downs was on her line. “Culp here,” he said, sounding more stressed and harried than usual.

“Hi, Mr. Culp,” Lisa said. “Are you safe? Is everything okay?”

“I'm at the Methodist church in Harrisonburg. In the pastor's office. They don't lock it. My sister's a member. It seemed like a safe place to call, but I'm still not convinced. I'm using the church phone.”

“Listen—Joe and I really need you to hang in there. We've sued Benecorp. We've hired the best lawyers in the state to fight Garrison. We need you strong and focused. We need your help.”

“Oh shit. Shit, Mrs. Stone. No.”

“I know you aren't anxious to hear it, but it would make so much more sense if you'd let Joe and me bring you down here and put you in a safe place with our own security.”

“I'm decompensating. I know I'm mentally sick. It's no secret. No mystery to me. That's the term, Mrs. Stone,
decompensate
. Like
renounce
. Another term. Joe Stone renounced the will. I don't think I can make it. My sister is giving me meds, and I'm still a wreck. Ships wreck, cars wreck, people wreck.” He was anguished, sobbing and plaintive all through the skein of words.

“I can have Joe there in a few hours. Or I'll leave right now. He's in a deposition across the block. We can come and help you.”

“I can't escape Garrison. He's been here. In my head and in my room at Amy's house. I said, ‘Let me touch you and make sure you're real,' and he told me he wasn't real but I'd still be able to feel him.”

“Seth Garrison was there, Doctor? In Harrisonburg?”

“I don't know. I saw him, but I'm falling to pieces. Even with my medicine. It's worse, you see, when you
realize
your mind has turned traitor. When you're aware of it and can't put the brakes on. I've heard from Lettie too. But she's dead, so who the heck knows.” The crying wasn't as bad, the desperation in his voice wasn't as severe. “My mother, but that's not possible, either. I'm having to keep a log so I can follow myself. I have to write everything on paper so I can keep up with Downs. Ha! Writing all the time. No rest for the weary.”

“What's your sister's number? I need to call her. Her cell or work number?”

“It's written in my notes, but I'll have to find it. It's definitely a part of my written history. Why won't Mr. Stone speak with me?”

“Sweetie,” Lisa said sadly, sympathetically, “he's not here. He's not in the office. He wants to speak with you. He's worried about you. Remember how he's been checking on you? Calling your sister every few days? He's your partner.”

“He's spying on me too,” Downs wailed. “He wants my formulas. Formulae, actually. Is he in cahoots with Seth Garrison? But you already know that.”

“No, Doctor,” Lisa assured him, her tone as gentle and comforting as she could make it. “You asked Joe to help you and he did. We're your friends. Lettie assured you Joe was a good man, and he is. Joe and I absolutely believe that Benecorp is bad and that Seth Garrison is your enemy. We're here to protect you.”

“I've passed the safe minutes. It's been too long. They're locked on to me now. I can feel it. I'm logging this in the record. Writing it down. Remember, Mrs. Stone, there's no escaping Seth Garrison. You can touch him whether he's there or not. Goodbye.”

Lisa said “Doctor? Doctor Downs? Doctor?” but she'd heard a click and realized he was gone, that she was talking to an empty line.

She contacted Len Barrow's office and had his secretary pull Joe from a divorce deposition, emphasized to her it was an emergency. Joe gave her Downs's sister's cell information from his TracFone and promised her he'd be there as soon as he finished, probably in another thirty minutes. Lisa immediately called the sister, a James Madison University librarian named Amy Shepard, and found her at her job.