The Great Divide by T. Davis Bunn Page B

Logan did not need to think that one out. “I’d waive my fee.”
    This time the smile was grand enough to show pearly capped teeth. “While the sentiment is most appreciated, the act will not be necessary. Of that I can assure you.”

 

FOUR
     
    O N THURSDAY Marcus waited until Netty had left for lunch, then placed the call to Washington. When the tensely cultured voice came on the line, he said, “Ms. Stanstead, this is Marcus Glenwood. We spoke on Monday, I’m an attorney in—”
    “How did you get this number?”
    “Alma Hall gave it to me.”
    “You spoke with Alma?” The tension amped higher. “Are you taking the case?”
    “That’s why I’m calling, Ms. Stanstead. I’m trying to determine whether there is actually a case here at all.” He waited, and when another explosion did not erupt, Marcus continued. “You said you’d be willing to help me work through this.”
    “Yes. All right.” A breath pushed so hard Marcus could feel the unease in his own chest. “Tell me what you want.”
    “I have undertaken a preliminary search for court records nationwide.” Marcus drew the two sheaves of paper to his desk’s center. “New Horizons has facilities in sixteen states. If my information is correct, there are cases either pending or on appeal that name New Horizons as defendant at fourteen of these sites.”
    “I know that.”
    “You …” Marcus stared at the wall. Netty had asked Deacon Wilbur to paint her entire office a buttery cream. The color seemed to swim. “May I ask how?”
    “I told you.” Snappish. Wary. Coldly hostile. “New Horizons was the subject of Gloria’s thesis. I was helping her.”
    Marcus flicked the summary sheets to the page marked with a paperclip. “Apparently the closest case to us here was at their former facility—”
    “In Richmond. I know.”
    Marcus let the pages fall. “You know.”
    “They were sued five years ago for polluting the James River. The plaintiffs were a couple of local eco groups and the state water board. When New Horizons lost the case they launched an appeal and simultaneously shut the facility.” The words came faster now. Impatient. “It’s a standard New Horizons revenge tactic, whenever the local government comes out against them, no matter what the reason. You must know that.”
    “No.” He turned to where the wall was dappled with afternoon light. “No, I was not aware of anything of the sort.”
    “Their headquarters were moved to North Carolina after a similar incident up in Delaware. The suit was brought by the state’s employment board and a couple of unions. They were hit with about a dozen labor violations.” When the news was met by silence, she pushed on. “Gloria lived for her work, Mr. Glenwood. We were friends. I helped her where I could.”
    “How long did you live with Gloria?”
    “Almost four years.”
    “My information is derived from an Internet search engine and is sketchy at best.” Nervously Marcus ruffled through the printouts. “The appeals against the Richmond ruling were apparently lodged with the appellate court there in Washington. I was wondering if you would search out the relevant documents.”
    Kirsten Stanstead’s voice turned wary. “Are you accepting this case?”
    A long breath, then, “If there is a case at all, yes. But I need a lot more information than I have right now to make that decision.”
    “Then the answer is, I don’t need to do any searching. Gloria kept her case documentation very up-to-date.” The lofty impatience broke through once more. “I’ve been through all this with Mr. Grimes. Didn’t you discuss this with him?”
    Marcus grabbed the folder that had arrived with the morning’s mail. “You spoke with Larry Grimes?”
    “I told you I had the last time we talked, Mr. Glenwood. I do not like to repeat myself.”
    “No. Of course not.” The folder from Grimes contained nothingbut the initial agreement with Gloria’s parents, a page of patchy