Life Support (30 page)

“They gave me a summons to be in court for some type of hearing.”

“When is it?”

“I'm not sure. It's not clear on the ticket. I have to call the jail and find out.”

“Do you want to hire me for everything?”

“Yes. I talked to a few lawyers in Greenville, but none of them made me feel as comfortable as you.”

It was a familiar refrain Alexia had been hearing all day from her clients, and it set her at ease. She decided to take the first step with Rena.

“Okay, before we discuss the terms of my representation, I need to explain a few things to you,” Alexia said.

She outlined as simply as possible the conflict of interest situation.

“I don't care that your old firm represented my father-in-law,” Rena responded. “I trust you to look out for me, now.”

“I appreciate your confidence, but any contract will contain a waiver of any objection based on my employment with Leggitt & Freeman.”

“That's no problem. Fax it to me at the hotel.”

This was going faster than Alexia had anticipated. She broached the most important question—payment of attorney's fees.

“And I will also need a retainer fee to cover my initial time and expenses. How can you pay me if Ezra has taken all the money out of your checking account?”

“I have money he doesn't know about. How much do you need?”

Quoting an inadequate fee would be like jumping from the top of a tall building into three inches of water. Alexia was willing to help Rena but not at the risk of her own financial hardship. Pro bono work was not the way to begin a new law practice.

“Ten thousand as a retainer,” she answered. “I'll bill against that, and whenever it falls below two thousand, you will put in another five thousand.”

Rena answered immediately. “I can give you seven thousand immediately and the balance next week.”

Alexia would know quickly if Rena was going to make good on her promises. If she didn't send the money, Alexia could withdraw from the case before she was in so deep that a judge might force her to continue. She cleared her throat.

“And five thousand every time the balance goes below two thousand?” she asked.

“Yes. That shouldn't be a problem.”

Alexia had expected a few more questions, but Rena seemed content to trust her. A seven-thousand-dollar retainer would be a nice start to her first week as Alexia Lindale, Attorney at Law, and she could put language in the retainer agreement that protected her down the road.

Rena continued. “I want you to sue Ezra and make him give back my money. He's taken almost everything from my checking account, and I'm wondering what else he's done to Baxter's ownership in the family businesses.”

Alexia nodded. She'd suspected such a step by Ezra since the first meeting with the partners at Leggitt & Freeman.

“That is a distinct possibility. We can request a temporary restraining order that will stop him from shifting anything else out of Baxter's name and demand an accounting of what he's already transferred. It won't be very different from the work I do in divorce cases. Husbands often try to hide assets from their wives, and I have to find out where they're stashed.”

Alexia's mind began formulating theories of investigation and recovery. Most men didn't take the time to skillfully cover their financial tracks. She hoped Ezra felt secure cloaked in the legality afforded by the power of attorney and that he hadn't used any sophisticated tactics of concealment.

“You won't have to do much digging,” Rena said. “I have an inside source of information that will give you what you need.”

“Who is it?” Alexia asked.

“I can't tell.”

“It's not someone at Leggitt & Freeman, is it?”

Rena gave a short, harsh laugh. “No. Closer to the center of things than that.”

Alexia did a split-second analysis. To be close to the center, Rena's contact had to be one of Ezra's top businesspeople or a member of the family, possibly the older brother whose name Alexia couldn't remember.

“There may be a time when you have to tell me,” Alexia said. “And when that time comes, I need to know that you won't hold back.”

“What type of situation?”

“I don't want your contact to do anything illegal to obtain information for you.”

“Oh, nothing like that will happen. My source had legal access to everything anyway.”

Alexia made a note on her paper. It had to be Baxter's brother. He was one of the few people who would have come to Greenville, and the trip would have given him opportunity to talk to Rena. However, Alexia couldn't imagine why he would choose his sister-in-law over his father.

“In the meantime, stay away from Ezra,” Alexia said. “Avoid him if he comes to the ICU waiting area, and if he tries to talk to you, tell him your lawyer has instructed you not to have any contact with him.”

“That sounds good.”

“I'll fax you a contract in the morning,” Alexia said. “Mail it back to me with a check for the retainer at my home address. What's the fax number for the hotel?”

Rena told her the number. “I may bring the money to you myself. I want to come back to Santee for a few days. Baxter doesn't know I'm here, and I'm going crazy with nothing to do but go to the hospital and return to the hotel.”

“That's up to you. Just make sure the doctors know how to contact you.”

“They have my cell phone number. I'll let you know tomorrow if I'm coming home.”

After she hung up the phone, Alexia poured herself a glass of water. Rena needed a champion. She didn't deserve anything that had happened to her, and even if Alexia had to eventually withdraw from the case, she could start her in the right direction.

Alexia was up early in the morning. After fixing a cup of coffee, she prepared a short contract for Rena to sign. She faxed it to the hotel in Greenville and then took her coffee onto the screened porch. It was the coolest morning of the month and the mist clung closely to the warm surface of the water in the marsh. She heard her cell phone ring and walked back into the kitchen. It was Rachel Downey. The realtor's chipper voice jarred her ear.

“I hope I didn't call too early,” she said.

“No, I've been working.”

“I have good news. The owners of the house have made a great counteroffer. If you can add fifteen hundred to the purchase price and guarantee closing within thirty days, we have a deal. They're even willing to let you take possession and begin renovation before closing if you can pay five thousand dollars as earnest money.”

Alexia didn't jump with glee. “Five thousand is a lot for earnest money.”

“Yes, but gaining immediate access would give you a head start in fixing it up. You could probably close one day and move in the next.”

Having an office was important, but the negotiator in Alexia rose to the surface.

“We're close, but not there yet,” she said. “They must want to sell badly. What did their realtor tell you?”

“Nothing, but he called me back within an hour after I faxed over a copy of the proposed contract. It's obvious they want to turn it around quickly.”

“I want the contractor who is going to do the renovations to look at the house. There may be something we've missed, and I don't want a serious problem to come up later that costs a lot of money to repair.”

“How much time do you need? If the sellers are willing to cut their price so much, this house won't stay on the market very long. A speculator will snatch it up and sell it for a profit.”

“I'll call him this morning and check his schedule. Are you going to be around so he can get into the house?”

“Yes. I'll be here at the office. This is my paperwork day.”

“I'll call you back as soon as I have a time.”

After Alexia clicked off the phone, she looked up Ted Morgan's number in the phone book. His name wasn't listed, so she called the church. The answering machine gave her the number, and she dialed it. The minister answered in a voice that sounded sleepy.

“Ted, this is Alexia Lindale. I'm sorry if I woke you up.”

“That's okay. I was up late last night.”

“Do you want me to call later?” she asked.

“No. What do you need?”

“It's about the house I mentioned to you yesterday. Could you look at it later this morning?”

Alexia could hear Ted yawn. “Yeah. What time?”

“About eleven o'clock would be good. I'll call the realtor so she can meet us there.”

“Okay. Give me the street address.”

Alexia gave him the information.

Alexia spent the next two hours talking on the phone and typing correspondence. She even drafted a motion to file in Eleanor Vox's case. While she was printing out her pleadings, she heard a fax coming into the machine beside her desk. It was the contract she'd sent to Rena Richardson. As the paper slowly exited the machine, Alexia waited for the signature line to appear. Rena had signed the agreement and attached a short note.

I'm driving home today. Call me about a meeting. I have the ten thousand.

It was almost time to meet with Ted and Rachel Downey, so Alexia didn't immediately call Rena. She laid the contract on her computer table, took out an empty folder, and typed a label:
Richardson v. Richardson.
She put the contract in the file. It was official. The first new case of her life as a sole practitioner had begun.

Rachel Downey's sedan was in the driveway of the house. Behind it was an old-model white pickup truck with several pieces of scrap lumber in the back. Alexia parked along the curb. As she walked past Ted's truck, she looked in the front seat and saw a compact disk of a pianist performing Debussy.

Rachel and Ted were inside the house. Alexia opened the front door and heard their voices coming from the back of the house.

“Hello!” she called out.

Rachel stuck her head into the hallway. “We're in the kitchen.”

Alexia joined them. Ted was wearing painter's overalls. His hair was disheveled, and some sandy dirt stuck to his left cheek and across the front of his clothes.

“I've already been under the house,” he said. “There is evidence of old termite problems but no serious damage. You'll need to treat the house again as a preventative, but the foundation is solid. Inside it looks fine.

I'm about to check out the attic.”

There was a pull-down ladder in the main hallway. Ted grabbed the thin rope attached to the cover and lowered the ladder to the floor. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a flashlight and quickly climbed up into the darkened area above the ceiling. Rachel and Alexia could hear his footsteps overhead.

“How did you find him?” Rachel asked.

“At Sandy Flats Church.”

“Is he the custodian?”

Alexia thought about the music that Ted brought forth from the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah, but he's very talented.”

“That's a beautiful sanctuary. It's great for weddings. My niece was married there a few years ago.”

Ted reappeared at the top of the ladder and climbed down.

“You need to blow in some fresh insulation, and there have been visitors coming in through the eaves toward the back of the house.”

“What kind of visitors?” Alexia asked.

“Squirrels. They gnawed a hole through the wood. It's a mess, and unless you want to maintain a squirrel sanctuary, it will need to be fixed.”

“Will that be expensive?”

“No. It can be done in a day or two.”

They walked through the rest of the interior. Alexia and Rachel talked about the work to be done before it could be used as an office, and Ted took notes on a small pad he took from one of his front pockets. They ended up in the living room. Alexia turned to Ted.

“How much do you think it will cost to get it ready?”

“You want a bid?”

“No, an estimate.”

Ted wrinkled his brow. “Almost everything is cosmetic. Are you going to help with the painting?”

Alexia remembered Gwen's offer. “Maybe, but don't include that in your figure.”

“Okay. It can all be done for ten to twelve thousand dollars in labor and materials—give or take a thousand.”

Rachel's cell phone rang. She retrieved it from her purse and held a quick conversation.

“Someone else wants to look at the house in an hour,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

Alexia frowned. “I wanted to make a counteroffer, but I don't want to lose it.”

Rachel couldn't conceal her exasperation. “Alexia, the house is going to sell. If you want it, accept the offer and don't try to negotiate. It's a good deal.”

Alexia looked at Ted. “What do you think?”

“If you buy it, I'll make some money, so I think you should close the deal as soon as possible.”

Alexia smiled. “No need to cross-examine you about your bias.”

Rachel's phone rang again, and she pressed the talk button. “Yes, I'm showing the house right now. Take his number, and I'll get back to you in a few minutes.” She closed the cover on her phone. “That was my office about a speculator who wants to see the property. I'm not answering another call until you make up your mind.”

Alexia nodded. “Okay. I'll take it.”

“Good,” the realtor said with relief. “I have a blank contract in the car. Let's fill it out and sign it before you leave.”

Ted stepped toward the front door. “I'm going back to the church. I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay. We'll get together about the details. Thanks for coming by.”

Standing in front of the kitchen counter, Rachel completed the contract in less than five minutes, and Alexia signed it. As they were leaving, Alexia stopped in the small foyer and pointed to the wall facing the front door.

“Do you think it would be tacky to hang a nice photograph of myself near the entrance?”