Robert Whitlow - Deeper Water

I looked at Vince.

"Go ahead," he said.

I faced Zach. "First, I need to ask you a question. Is your primary loyalty to Moses Jones as a client or to this law firm?"

"Is there a conflict between them?"

"Yes. And if I don't tell you the details, then you won't have to make a choice."

I saw Zach hesitate. I knew he liked his job working for Mr. Appleby. I turned to Vince.

"And everyone knows you're a lock as the next associate of the firm. You warned me the other day, but have you thought about the negative impact this could have on your future? Are you helping me because God has called you or because it gives us a chance to be together?"

The slightly embarrassed look on Vince's face told me what I needed to know.

"I'm trying not to be cruel to either one of you or anybody else," I continued in a calmer tone of voice. "I came to the conclusion this afternoon that what happens to me doesn't matter as much as taking care of my client." I stood up. "From now on, I'm not going to discuss this with either one of you. I'm exhausted and ready to go home."

I left Zach and Vince together in the library. I didn't know where Julie might be, but I wasn't going to stick around. I found her coming out of Ned's office.

"Are you ready to leave for the day?" I asked.

She looked at her watch. "Yeah, it's later than I thought. I have a few things to grab from the library."

"I'll wait for you at the car."

"It's blazing hot outside."

"Then you'll hurry, okay?"

Julie glanced questioningly over her shoulder. I hoped the thought of me roasting in the late-afternoon heat would keep her from having a long conversation with Zach and Vince. I walked slowly along the sidewalk in the shade cast by the building. I reached the car and watched the front door. In less than a minute Julie joined me.

"Was anyone in the library?" I asked.

"No, why?"

"Just curious. I'd finished a meeting with Zach and Vince, and they stayed after I left."

"About the Jones case?"

I knew I had to answer, and partial information was much more likely to satisfy Julie's curiosity so we could change subjects.

"Yeah, I met with him this afternoon at the jail," I said casually. "One of the things we discussed was trial strategy. I think my chances of getting a not-guilty verdict are greater than you might think, but Zach and Vince are unconvinced."

"Your client admits the crime. I can't imagine a credible defense."

I stretched out my explanation until Julie stopped in front of Mrs. Fairmont's house.

"You're dreaming," Julie said. "The best you could hope for would be a hung jury if you convince a couple of people to feel sorry for him."

"And a hung jury might be as good as an acquittal. How many times do you think the district attorney's office wants to take up the court's time trying a misdemeanor trespassing case?"

"You have a point," Julie admitted with a nod of her head. "Once again, I underestimated you. I didn't think you had the guts to force a trial."

As Julie drove away, I wasn't sure I had more guts than an eightpound chicken.

INSIDE THE HOUSE, I greeted Flip, whose excitement at my arrival seemed to increase each afternoon. Mrs. Fairmont was asleep in her chair with the television blaring. I gently touched her on the shoulder. She didn't respond. I shook her harder. To my relief she stirred and opened her eyes.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Who are you?" she asked as she glanced up at me with bleary eyes.

"Tami Taylor. I'm staying at your house this summer while I work for Samuel Braddock's law firm."

"Samuel Braddock?"

"Yes ma'am."

It was the first time Mrs. Fairmont's memory for people she'd known for years was fuzzy.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "I'd be happy to fix your supper."

Mrs. Fairmont closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them. "Yes, that would be nice."

Gracie hadn't come that day, but there were leftovers in the refrigerator. I quickly prepared two plates of food and began warming one up in the microwave. After the stress that threatened to crush me at the office, the normalcy of fixing supper was therapeutic.

I returned to the den and found Mrs. Fairmont sitting in the chair with her eyes closed. It was a sad sight that made me ache over the ravages of aging. I heated up the other plate of food and placed them on the dining room table. Flip, smelling the meal, took up his position beside Mrs. Fairmont's chair. I returned to the den and roused her again. At first I thought I might have to assist her to the table, but once on her feet, she walked without any problems to the dining room.

Mrs. Fairmont seemed to enjoy her supper but didn't respond to my attempts at conversation beyond a single word or two. I was just getting to know her and didn't want to see her slip away permanently into a pit of mental confusion.

"Lord, please don't let this be the time," I prayed softly.

Mrs. Fairmont glanced over and gave me a sweet smile. "You're a nice young woman," she said. "Would you like to stay for a cup of after-dinner coffee?"

"Yes ma'am. I'll fix it for you."

I brought coffee to the table along with a cup of tea for myself. We drank in silence. Mrs. Fairmont touched a napkin to her lips.

"I should invite Samuel and Eloise Braddock over for dinner," she said. "They are such a gracious couple, and we have many good memories together."

"It would be best if I'm not here that evening," I said.

"Why?"

"So you can discuss good memories."

I LAY AWAKE THAT NIGHT. Most of the challenges I'd faced in my life seemed theoretical compared to the sober reality facing Moses Jones. My responsibility to the old man rested on my chest like a great weight and reduced me to one of the simplest prayers.

"Help me," I prayed over and over and over.

I finally drifted off to sleep with the words lingering on my lips.

I AWOKE IN THE MORNING and enjoyed a five-second stretch before reality returned. I sighed and reluctantly resumed my burden. During my morning run, I took a new route away from the historic district into the modern part of the city. I needed new scenery.

Mrs. Fairmont wasn't downstairs when I returned, but she responded when I pressed the Call button on the intercom.

"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked.

"Fine. I'm going to call Christine and tell her to take me to lunch. Have a nice day."

I walked as resolutely as I could to the office and went directly to the library. Julie hadn't arrived, and there weren't any notes from Zach or Vince. One of my main goals for the day was to avoid contact with either one of them. I checked my law firm e-mail account. I'd received another project from Bob Kettleson. I grimaced. One consequence of my leaving the firm would be increased work for the senior associate. Julie burst through the door.

"Wow, what a night," she said. "I met the most awesome guy. He lives on my street, and we met while he was walking his dog, a cute little thing with pointy white ears. Joel graduated a few years ago from the design school here and opened his own studio. He's a photographer, and some of his shots were the most amazing things I've ever seen. He asked me out to dinner on the spot and took me to the neatest French restaurant in a house on West Oglethorpe Street."

"I know the place," I said.

"He lived in Paris for a year after graduation. And get this, he's Jewish without being over the top about it. Just like me. We had so much fun. I haven't laughed so hard in months. His work is so good that I've got to get my father to buy a few prints for my mother. He invited me to synagogue Friday night, then to the beach on Saturday. My mother will flip when she finds out. Maybe we can do something clean and wholesome one evening with you and either Vinny or Zach."