was coming because he'd
made this "I'll take care of myself promise a hundred times before, and it
was always just to shut her up.
"I'll tell you what. . . if I start to feel even slightly wrong
I'll get the continuance and I'll check back in here quick as a bunny."
"You mean, like you did this morning, when you had a pulse rate of
a hundred and eighty while you were trying to hold onto our three wussy clients
instead of getting your big, sexy ass over here?"
"Well, maybe this morning was bad judgment on my part. . . pretty
foolish, okay? I'm admitting that. I'll cop to it, but from now on I'm gonna be
a good patient, okay? Gonna win the Patient-of-the-Year Award."
"Okay." She squeezed his hand again and sighed. There was a
light knock on the door, and a surprisingly attractive forty-eight-year-old
woman with salt-and-pepper hair stuck her head in.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Doctor Deborah DeVere." Her
anxious eyes immediately taking in all of the bedside equipment beeping and flashing
like a NASA launch computer.
"Come in, Doctor. Pull up a chair. Can we get you a bypass, a heart
transplant, or a manicure?" Herman said, smiling at her. She smiled back
and Herman liked her on sight. Over the phone she had sounded knowledgeable and
angry at the government's callous disregard for the monarch. Now, looking at
her, he was sure she was his kind of witness: a doctor who worked hard to save
threatened life-forms, did cutting-edge research science, and had a pretty fine
ass on her to boot.
She strode into the room displaying runner's legs. Susan rose to shake
her hand. "I'm Susan Strockmire, Herman's daughter. We spoke."
"I assumed," she smiled. "Nice to meet you." Dr.
DeVere pulled up a chair and sat, but a frown crept across her handsome face,
spreading like a dark shadow. "Are you really okay? This looks
serious."
"I always do this before court," Herman grinned and put down
his legal pad. "You'd be surprised how a little electro-cardioversion and
an EKG can calm you before a trial."
"Seriously, Mr. Strockmire, are you okay to go into court?"
"I have my doctor's approval. Right, baby?" He looked over at
Susan, who smiled and nodded, then turned her gaze back to the window so she
wouldn't give away her true feelings.
They spent the next half hour prepping Dr. Deborah DeVere, although she
was already up to speed on the issues.
She was going
to be a dynamite witness. She even suggested some good secondary questions to
ask that would allow her to interject some overpowering scientific facts,
including how genetically engineered bio-foods that produce their own
pesticides not only affect the butterfly, but also damage the caterpillar
before its metamorphosis.
At 10:30 the nurses cleared the hospital room and Dr. DeVere, who had
become Dedee, got up to leave. She shook Herman's hand and smiled at him.
"See you in court, Dedee," Herman said. "I'll be the one
wearing the backless nightgown and the EKG clips."
"I can hardly wait for that one, Herm," she said with a wink,
then left.
There could definitely be something going on here, Herman thought
as he watched her go.
Susan gathered up her laptop and printer and started packing her stuff
away. "Dad, what are you going to do about getting another client?"
she asked. "You said, don't worry about it, but I can't help but worry.
Judge King is going to demand we represent someone. In order to get a jury
trial we had to add a suit for damages to the injunctive relief. We need a
plaintiff who's been damaged."
"We're in luck. We've just been hired by the Danaus Plexippus
Foundation," he said.
"And what on earth is the Danaus Plexippus Foundation?" She
was smiling at him now. That was just like him to have something up his sleeve.
"It happens to be Latin for
made this "I'll take care of myself promise a hundred times before, and it
was always just to shut her up.
"I'll tell you what. . . if I start to feel even slightly wrong
I'll get the continuance and I'll check back in here quick as a bunny."
"You mean, like you did this morning, when you had a pulse rate of
a hundred and eighty while you were trying to hold onto our three wussy clients
instead of getting your big, sexy ass over here?"
"Well, maybe this morning was bad judgment on my part. . . pretty
foolish, okay? I'm admitting that. I'll cop to it, but from now on I'm gonna be
a good patient, okay? Gonna win the Patient-of-the-Year Award."
"Okay." She squeezed his hand again and sighed. There was a
light knock on the door, and a surprisingly attractive forty-eight-year-old
woman with salt-and-pepper hair stuck her head in.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Doctor Deborah DeVere." Her
anxious eyes immediately taking in all of the bedside equipment beeping and flashing
like a NASA launch computer.
"Come in, Doctor. Pull up a chair. Can we get you a bypass, a heart
transplant, or a manicure?" Herman said, smiling at her. She smiled back
and Herman liked her on sight. Over the phone she had sounded knowledgeable and
angry at the government's callous disregard for the monarch. Now, looking at
her, he was sure she was his kind of witness: a doctor who worked hard to save
threatened life-forms, did cutting-edge research science, and had a pretty fine
ass on her to boot.
She strode into the room displaying runner's legs. Susan rose to shake
her hand. "I'm Susan Strockmire, Herman's daughter. We spoke."
"I assumed," she smiled. "Nice to meet you." Dr.
DeVere pulled up a chair and sat, but a frown crept across her handsome face,
spreading like a dark shadow. "Are you really okay? This looks
serious."
"I always do this before court," Herman grinned and put down
his legal pad. "You'd be surprised how a little electro-cardioversion and
an EKG can calm you before a trial."
"Seriously, Mr. Strockmire, are you okay to go into court?"
"I have my doctor's approval. Right, baby?" He looked over at
Susan, who smiled and nodded, then turned her gaze back to the window so she
wouldn't give away her true feelings.
They spent the next half hour prepping Dr. Deborah DeVere, although she
was already up to speed on the issues.
She was going
to be a dynamite witness. She even suggested some good secondary questions to
ask that would allow her to interject some overpowering scientific facts,
including how genetically engineered bio-foods that produce their own
pesticides not only affect the butterfly, but also damage the caterpillar
before its metamorphosis.
At 10:30 the nurses cleared the hospital room and Dr. DeVere, who had
become Dedee, got up to leave. She shook Herman's hand and smiled at him.
"See you in court, Dedee," Herman said. "I'll be the one
wearing the backless nightgown and the EKG clips."
"I can hardly wait for that one, Herm," she said with a wink,
then left.
There could definitely be something going on here, Herman thought
as he watched her go.
Susan gathered up her laptop and printer and started packing her stuff
away. "Dad, what are you going to do about getting another client?"
she asked. "You said, don't worry about it, but I can't help but worry.
Judge King is going to demand we represent someone. In order to get a jury
trial we had to add a suit for damages to the injunctive relief. We need a
plaintiff who's been damaged."
"We're in luck. We've just been hired by the Danaus Plexippus
Foundation," he said.
"And what on earth is the Danaus Plexippus Foundation?" She
was smiling at him now. That was just like him to have something up his sleeve.
"It happens to be Latin for
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