The Sacrifice (45 page)

The following morning, Scott was sitting at his desk thinking about how to reach out to Frank Jesup. Swiveling in his chair, he faced his computer and typed the password for the legal research database used by the firm. The query screen popped up, and he entered the key words he wanted to research. After forty-five minutes of browsing, he'd printed fifty pages of single-spaced information from four separate articles. He stacked the sheets neatly on his desk. They should be sufficient for at least one good workout. Coach Lockhart would be proud. He called and left a message on Kay's voice mail at the school.

“I have an idea about Frank Jesup. Ask him to come thirty minutes early to the meeting tomorrow night.”

When Scott arrived, Frank was waiting. The student was coolly congenial. Kay made an excuse to leave the trailer.

“I located some articles from legal journals about serving as lead counsel in complex litigation,” Scott said. “When there is more than one lawyer in a case, it takes coordination to take advantage of the differences in skills and aptitudes of the people involved. Our case isn't particularly complex, but I'd like you to look them over and give me your ideas about implementing some of the suggestions for the lawyers on the team.”

“Are they going to read the articles, too?” Frank asked.

“No,” Scott said simply.

He didn't want to flatter Frank, just inform him.

“Write down your thoughts, so you and I can discuss it.”

Frank didn't protest. “Okay.”

Scott had thought Frank would put up more of a fight. He was suddenly at a loss for words and looked questioningly at the young man. In the constant activity of the mock trial practices, Scott had never really thought of Frank except as an intelligent student with a sarcastic mouth. He now saw him as a seventeen-year-old boy whose parents were splitting up. For all Scott knew, Frank blamed himself for his family's problems.

“How are you doing?” he asked more softly.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, in school?”

“I make straight As.”

“That's good. If you do well in college, you could go to law school.”

The patronizing look returned to Frank's face. “Should that be my goal in life? To be a lawyer?”

Scott bristled. “I'm just letting you know you can be anything you want in life.”

“I doubt you'd understand what I think about life. I've taken the next step beyond Darwin. It's not survival of the fittest, but choosing when and how you want to die. That's the next step in human evolution.”

Frank was right. Scott didn't understand. He voiced his immediate reaction.

“That's morbid.”

“No, it's mortal,” Frank replied. “If you're honest about it, life is a game. My goal is to set my own rules and end it on terms of my own choosing.”

“The world out there will make that hard to do. Society sets the rules.”

Frank smiled, but it wasn't a happy look.

“I accept the challenge, and we'll see who wins.”

Scott stood up. “Why don't you look over the articles until the others get here?”

“Okay.”

While Frank read, Scott walked outside to get a breath of fresh air. Someone with more skills than he needed to help Frank Jesup.

When the other students arrived, they did a simulated trial of the whole case. Scott hadn't worked with the witnesses in several sessions, and he was pleased with their progress. There was a good smattering of humor, and it had the flavor of make-believe that the judges would enjoy without turning a mock trial into a mockery.

Scott looked at the clock on the back wall. The session had zipped by.

“Okay,” he said. “That's it.”

When the room was clear, Kay turned to Scott.

“How was your time with Frank?” she asked.

Scott shook his head. “He's going to read the information I gave him, but our conversation didn't go anywhere. I don't know what's wrong with him.”

“I'm sure he's upset about his parents breaking up.”

“I guess, but he also has a fixation about controlling his own death.”

“His death! Do you think he's suicidal?”

Scott mentally replayed what he could remember of their conversation.

“Possibly. If he were my kid, I'd have him in counseling or on medication.”

Kay looked troubled. “It's always hard to decide what to do when a student is depressed. You don't want to be an alarmist, and you don't want to miss a warning that might help avoid a more serious problem.”

“I don't know about Frank,” Scott replied. “Would it do any good to contact one of his parents?”

“Only if they see a problem, too. If they don't believe there is a problem, they resent the suggestion. A lot of parents know their child needs help, but it takes a confirmation from someone like a teacher to get the ball rolling.”

“I'd say Frank is already a loose cannon,” Scott said.

“I'll think about it.”

They walked outside together. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Scott said, “Before you leave, I have something for you to read.”

“Do I need my red pen?” Kay asked.

“No.”

Scott returned from his vehicle with a sheet of paper.

“How does this sound? ‘I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.'”

“That's taken.”

Scott handed her the paper. “Okay, then something more practical. It's a list of stuff you might want to bring on the camping trip.”

She read it over and said, “It's fine as far as it goes.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are other things I need to take.”

“Remember we're carrying everything on our backs,” Scott warned. “It's only one night, and we don't want to take unnecessary stuff.”

“I know.” She patted his arm. “But you're strong.”

36

When you come to a fork in the road, take it.

Y
OGI
B
ERRA

S
cott went downstairs to Mr. Humphrey's office. “It's Friday, and I haven't heard from Lester or Harold Garrison,” he said. “What do you think I should do about cousin Kendall?”

Mr. Humphrey leaned back in his chair.

“Let's talk about your options.”

Scott held up one finger. “I could do nothing and try the case on the theory that the wrong person is on trial.”

“Were you happy with that approach before you found out about Kendall?”

“Mostly. It fits with the testimony from the other witnesses and keeps Lester from committing perjury.” He held up a second finger. “Two, I can try to locate Kendall without the help of my client and find out what I can from him or about him. If he is willing to confess to the crime, Lester is off the hook.”

“How would you convince him to do that?”

Scott held up his fist. “Would this work?”

“Let's eliminate coercion as a method of investigation.”

Scott continued, “I could uncover something about Kendall that would convince Lester to tell the truth about his cousin's involvement. If this information is corroborated, it might even convince the D.A. to drop the case without going to trial.”

“Would you be happy with that result?”

Scott wanted to try the case, but he knew a voluntary dismissal was the best immediate solution for Lester.

“Yes. Lester goes free, and I can come back to the office to work on commercial leases for Mr. Jackson. Everybody is happy except Kendall and me.”

“Any other options?”

Scott thought a moment. “I contact Kendall. He calls the Garrisons. They get mad at me for violating their instructions to leave him out of the case.”

“Do you have to limit your investigation if that's what your client wants?”

“Yes. My job is to zealously represent my client, but that can be modified if he doesn't want the help. People on death row drop their appeals all the time.”

Mr. Humphrey raised his left eyebrow. “Have you considered any other reasons why the Garrisons do not want you to contact Kendall?”

Suddenly, it hit Scott. “They're afraid of him.”

Mr. Humphrey nodded. “Harold is an overweight truckdriver, and Lester is a skinny teenager. All we know about Kendall is that he has dark hair. He could be a very dangerous individual.”

Scott nodded. “So, I stay with option one.”

Mr. Humphrey shook his head. “No, you try to find out everything you can about Kendall without revealing the reason for your interest. Then we'll decide what to do next.”

Early Saturday morning, Scott laid two backpacks and small piles of other camping paraphernalia on the floor of the living room. A curious Nicky walked around sniffing everything. Scott's hands had touched everything, but there were other scents of unknown origin that the little dog couldn't identify—wild smells more earthy than the occasional whiff of rabbit or squirrel he'd get in the backyard. “We're going camping,” Scott said. “With Kay. Do you remember her?” Nicky's tail curled in a natural question mark as he wagged it.

“I'll probably do some fishing, too.”

Scott went outside and returned in a few moments with a slender fiberglass rod. He set it down on the floor for Nicky's inspection. The little dog started at the bottom and followed his nose up to the tip of the rod. The smells at the end of the stick were very strong. Nicky barked.

“That's right. Trout. If I could train you to smell rainbow trout in the water and tell me where to fish, we'd become famous. Scott Ellis and his fish-finding dog, Nicky.”

It was a foggy morning. Scott loaded everything in the back of his SUV, then phoned Kay to make sure she was awake.

“For minutes and minutes,” she answered with a yawn.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, my steamer trunk is packed.”

“Okay, we're leaving now.”

Scott opened the door and looked down at Nicky. “Let's go for a ride.”

Ride
was a word Nicky understood, and he shot out of the house and jumped in the front seat of the vehicle. Panting with excitement, the little dog pressed his wet nose against the glass of the passenger window.

It was a cool morning, and Scott was wearing a lightweight jacket over a T-shirt decorated with a picture of a man fishing in a stream and the words
A Perfect Day
. Anticipating an increase in temperature once they started hiking, he had put on khaki shorts with multiple pockets for odds and ends. He mentally went down his list of items for the trip during the short drive to Kay's apartment. He didn't let Nicky get out at the apartment complex, and the little dog barked at Scott's back as his master walked up the steps to Kay's apartment.

Kay opened the door. She was wearing shorts the same color as Scott's and had slipped on a warm jacket against the chill of the morning. In her right hand she held a yellow pillowcase stuffed with unknown items having odd shapes and corners.

“What's in there?” Scott asked.

“The things I need that weren't on your list. I thought I could empty it at the campsite and stuff it with clothes for a pillow.”

“Good idea,” Scott said. “How heavy is it?”

She passed it to him, and he weighed it in his hand.

“Not too bad. Do you want me to carry it in my backpack?”

Kay shook her head. “No, I'll carry my fair share.”

“Okay, we'll distribute everything once we reach the beginning of the trail.”

Nicky's whole body shook with excitement when Scott returned. Kay sat down in the passenger seat, and the dog quickly licked her chin before Scott ordered him to the backseat. Nicky stayed put until they turned onto the main highway, then slowly worked his way into Kay's lap. Scott saw him out of the corner of his eye.

“If he bothers you, let me know.”

Kay gently stroked the fur behind Nicky's neck.

“He's fine.”

They picked up speed and left the Catawba city limits heading west. The fog wrapped around the trees alongside the road like a white skirt.