Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer (9 page)

Chapter 12

T
he most popular girl in the eighth grade was a curly- haired brunette named Hallie. She was very cute and outgoing and loved to flirt. She was the captain of the cheerleaders, but she could also play. None of the boys would challenge her in tennis and she had once beaten Brian in both the 100-meter freestyle and 50-meter breaststroke. Since her interests centered around athletics, Theo was on her B list. Maybe even C.

But because her dog had a temper, Theo was about to move up.

The dog was a schnauzer that frequently became irritated when left alone at home throughout the day. Somehow the dog escaped through a pet door, dug under a fence around the backyard, and was picked up by Animal Control half a mile from home. Theo heard this story as he was finishing lunch. Hallie and two of her friends rushed to the table where Theo was eating, and the story spilled forth. Hallie was distraught, in tears, and Theo couldn’t help but notice how cute she was even when she was crying. It was a big moment for Theo.

“Has this happened before?” he asked.

She wiped her cheeks and said, “Yes. Rocky was picked up a few months ago.”

“Will they gas him?” Edward asked. Edward was part of the group that had gathered around Theo and Hallie and her friends. Hallie usually attracted a crowd of boys. The thought of her dog getting gassed made her cry even more.

“Shut up,” Theo snapped at Edward, who was a klutz anyway. “No, they won’t gas him.”

Hallie said, “My dad is out of town and my mother is seeing patients until late this afternoon. I don’t know what to do.”

Theo was shoving his lunch aside and opening his laptop. “Take it easy, Hallie. I’ve done this before.” He punched a few keys while the group inched closer together. “I assume the dog is licensed,” Theo said.

Strattenburg had an ordinance that required every dog to be licensed and accounted for. Strays were picked up and kept at the Pound for thirty days. If no one adopted a stray after thirty days, then the poor dog was put to sleep. Or “gassed,” as Edward so crudely put it. But they didn’t really use gas.

Hallie’s family was more affluent than most. Her father ran a company and her mother was a busy doctor. Of course their dog would be properly licensed. “Yes,” she said. “In my dad’s name.”

“And that is?” Theo asked, tapping keys.

“Walter Kershaw.”

Theo typed. Everyone waited. The crying had stopped.

“Okay,” Theo said as he pecked away and studied the screen. “I’m just checking the Animal Control Intake Log.” More pecking. “And here it is. Rocky was taken into the Pound at nine thirty this morning. He’s charged with violating the leash law, his second offense this year. The fine will be twenty bucks, plus eight more for boarding. A third offense will get him ten days in the slammer and a fine of a hundred bucks.”

“When can I get him?” Hallie asked.

“Animal Court is held from four until six each afternoon, four days a week, closed on Monday. Can you be in court this afternoon?”

“I guess, but don’t I need my parents?”

“Nope. I’ll be there. I’ve done it before.”

“Doesn’t she need a real lawyer?” Edward asked.

“No, not in Animal Court. Even a moron like you could get through it.”

“What about the money?” Hallie asked.

“I can’t charge. I don’t have my license yet.”

“Not you, Theo. The money for the fine?”

“Oh, that. Here’s the plan. I’ll file a Notice of Retrieval, online. This means that Rocky is basically pleading guilty to a leash law violation, which is just a minor offense, and that you, as one of the owners, will pay a fine and retrieve him from the Pound. After school, you run by the hospital, see your mother, get the money, and I’ll meet you at the courthouse at four o’clock.”

“Thanks, Theo. Will Rocky be there?”

“No. Rocky stays at the Pound. You and your mother can pick him up later.”

“Why can’t I get him in court?” she asked.

Theo was often amazed at the ridiculous questions his friends asked. Animal Court was the lowest of all courts. Its nickname was Kitty Court, and it was treated like an unwanted stepchild by the judicial system. The judge was a lawyer who’d been kicked out of every firm in town. He wore blue jeans and combat boots and was humiliated to have such a low position. The rules allowed any person with an animal in trouble to appear without a lawyer and handle their own case. Most lawyers avoided Kitty Court because it was so far beneath their dignity. Its hearing room was in the basement of the courthouse, far away from the big leagues.

Did Hallie really believe that the officers hauled over a bunch of dogs and cats, chained and muzzled, every afternoon to get processed and returned to their owners? Criminal defendants were brought from jail and kept in the holding pen where they waited for their turn in front of a judge. But not dogs and cats.

A sarcastic reply almost escaped Theo’s lips, but instead he smiled at Hallie, even cuter now, and said, “Sorry, Hallie, but it doesn’t work that way. You’ll have Rocky at home tonight, safe and sound.”

“Thanks, Theo. You’re the best.”

On a normal day, those words would have rattled around Theo’s ears for hours, but this was not a normal day. He was too preoccupied with the trial of Pete Duffy. Ike was in the courtroom, and Theo texted him throughout the afternoon.

Theo wrote: > U there? Update plse.

Ike responded: >> Yep balcony. Big crowd. State rested 2 pm. Nice job raising doubt w divorce talk and old golfin buddies.

> Enough proof?

>> No way. This guys walkin. Unless . . .

> U got a plan?

>> Still workin on it. U comin to court?

> Maybe. Whats hapnin?

>> First witness for defense. Biz partner of Duffy. Boring.

> Gotta run. Chemistry. Later.

>> I want an A in Chemistry. OK?

> No problem.

Though Animal Court got little respect among the lawyers of Strattenburg, it was seldom dull. The case involved a boa constrictor named Herman, and evidently Herman had a knack for escaping. His adventures would not have been a problem if his owner lived out in the country, in a more rural setting. However, the owner, a punkish-looking thirty-year-old with tattoos crawling up his neck, lived in a crowded apartment building in a lesser part of town. A neighbor had been horrified to find Herman stretched across his kitchen floor early one morning as he was about to fix a bowl of oatmeal.

The neighbor was furious. Herman’s owner was indignant. Things were tense. Theo and Hallie sat in folding chairs, the only spectators in the tiny courtroom. The library at Boone & Boone was bigger and far nicer.

Herman was on display. He was in a large wire cage, perched on a corner of the bench, not far from Judge Yeck, who eyed him carefully. The only other official in court was an elderly clerk who’d been there for years and was known to be the grouchiest old bag in the entire building. She wanted no part of Herman. She had retreated to a far corner and still looked frightened.

“How would you like it, Judge?” the neighbor said. “Living in the same building with that creature, never knowing if it might come slithering across your bed while you’re asleep.”

“He’s harmless,” the owner said. “He doesn’t bite.”

“Harmless? What about a heart attack? It’s not right, Judge. You gotta protect us.”

“He doesn’t look harmless,” Judge Yeck said, and everyone looked at Herman, who was tangled around a fake tree limb, inside the cage, motionless, apparently asleep, unimpressed by the gravity of the proceedings.

“Isn’t he rather large for a red-tailed boa?” Judge Yeck asked, as if he’d seen his share of boa constrictors.

“Eighty-six inches, as best I can tell,” the owner said proudly. “A little on the long side.”

“You have other snakes in your apartment?” the judge asked.

“Several.”

“How many?”

“Four.”

“Oh my God,” the neighbor said. He looked faint.

“All boas?” the judge asked.

“Three boas and a king snake.”

“May I ask why?”

The owner shifted his weight, shrugged, said, “Some people like parrots, others like gerbils. Dogs, cats, horses, goats. Me, I like snakes. They’re nice pets.”

“Nice pets,” the neighbor hissed.

“Is this the first time one has escaped?” Judge Yeck asked.

“Yes,” said the owner.

“No,” said the neighbor.

“Well, that clears things up.”

As fascinating as it was, Theo was having trouble focusing on Herman and his problems. Two things diverted his attention. The most obvious was the fact that Hallie was sitting very close, and this made the moment one of Theo’s finest. But even this was overshadowed by the more serious issue of what to do about Julio’s cousin.

The murder trial was zipping right along. The lawyers and witnesses would soon be finished. Judge Gantry would soon give the case to the jury. The clock was ticking.

“You gotta protect us, Judge,” the neighbor said again.

“What do you want me to do?” Judge Yeck shot back. His patience was running out.

“Can’t you order it destroyed?”

“You want the death penalty for Herman?”

“Why not? There are children in our building.”

“Seems kind of harsh,” Judge Yeck said. It was obvious he was not going to order the death of Herman.

“Come on,” the owner said in disgust. “He’s never harmed anyone.”

“Can you make sure the snakes stay in your apartment?” the judge asked.

“Yes. You have my word.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Judge Yeck said. “Take Herman home. I never want to see him again. We don’t have a place to keep him at the Pound. We don’t want him at the Pound. No one at the Pound likes Herman. Do you understand this?”

“I guess,” the owner said.

“If Herman escapes again, or if your snakes are caught outside of your apartment, then I have no choice but to order them destroyed. All of them. Clear enough?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I promise.”

“I bought an ax,” the neighbor said hotly. “A long-handle ax. Cost me twelve bucks at Home Depot.” He pointed angrily at Herman. “I see that snake, or any snake, in my apartment, or anywhere else, you won’t have to get involved, Your Honor, sir.”

“Settle down.”

“I swear I’ll kill him. Should’ve killed him this time, but I wasn’t thinking. And, I didn’t have an ax.”

“That’s enough,” Judge Yeck said. “Case dismissed.”

The owner rushed forward, grabbed the heavy cage, and gently lifted it off the bench. Herman wasn’t fazed. He showed little interest in the debate over his death. The neighbor stomped out of the courtroom. The owner and Herman loitered about, then left, too.

After the doors were slammed, the clerk eased back to her seat near the bench. The judge looked at some paperwork, then glanced up at Theo and Hallie. There was no one else in the courtroom.

“Well, hello, Mr. Boone,” he said.

“Good afternoon, Judge,” Theo said.

“You have business before the court?”

“Yes, sir. I need to retrieve a dog.”

The judge picked up a sheet of paper, his docket. “Rocky?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. You may come forward.”

Theo and Hallie walked through the small swinging gate to the only table. Theo showed her where to sit. He remained standing, just like a real lawyer.

“Proceed,” Judge Yeck said, obviously enjoying the moment and realizing that young Theo Boone was working hard to impress his very cute client. The judge smiled as he remembered Theo’s first appearance in his courtroom. He had been one frightened boy as he frantically worked to rescue a runaway mutt, one that he took home and named Judge.

“Well, Your Honor,” Theo began properly. “Rocky is a miniature schnauzer registered to Mr. Walter Kershaw, who is out of town on business. His wife, Dr. Phyllis Kershaw, is a pediatrician and could not be here. My client is their daughter, Hallie, who is in the eighth grade with me at the middle school.” Theo sort of waved at Hallie, who was terrified but also confident that Theo knew what he was doing.

Judge Yeck smiled down at Hallie. Then he said, “I see this is the second offense.”

“Yes, sir,” Theo said. “The first offense was four months ago and Mr. Kershaw handled matters at the Pound.”

“And Rocky is in custody?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can’t deny the fact that he was loose, can you?”

“No, sir, but I ask the court to waive both the fine and the boarding fee.”

“On what grounds?”

“Sir, the owners took all reasonable steps to prevent their dog from getting out. As always, Rocky was left in a secure place. The house was locked. The alarm was on. The gates to the backyard fencing were closed. They did everything possible to prevent this. Rocky has quite a temper and often becomes irritated when he’s left alone. He likes to run away when he gets out. The owners know this. They were not being careless.”

The judge removed his reading glasses and chewed on a stem as he pondered this. “Is this true, Hallie?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, sir. We’re very concerned about Rocky getting out.”

“This is a very clever dog, Your Honor,” Theo said. “He somehow broke through a pet door in the laundry and escaped to the backyard, where he dug a hole under the fence.”

“Suppose he does it again.”

“The owners intend to beef up security, sir.”

“Very well. I’ll waive the fine and fee. But if Rocky gets caught again, I’ll double all fines and fees. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Case dismissed.”

As they were walking down the hallway on the first floor, headed for the main entrance, Hallie slid her hand around Theo’s left elbow. Arm in arm. He instinctively slowed down a little. What a moment. “You’re a great lawyer, Theo,” she said.

“Not really. Not yet.”

“Why don’t you call me sometime?” she asked.

Why? Now that was a good question. Probably because he assumed she was too busy talking to all the other boys. She changed boyfriends every other month. He’d never even thought of calling her.

“I’ll do that,” he said. But he knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t exactly looking for a girlfriend, and besides, April would be devastated if he began chasing a flirt like Hallie.