In Search Of A Hero. Cheryl Wolverton

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СКАЧАТЬ evening, Rebekkah. Shall we?” He motioned toward the door.

      This was one thing she could do—court cases. Pulling her mind to that, she nodded. “I’m ready.”

      As she passed him, he murmured, “I’m sure you are.”

      Turning as they entered, she asked, “What do you mean by that?”

      Eyebrows inching up, he said, “You’re the type to do your homework.”

      Forcing herself to relax, she nodded.

      The maître d’ seated them, and the waitress took their orders. All was quiet before she spoke again.

      “I trust you’ve had a good week?”

      André smiled. “Never better. I really am beginning to enjoy my business in the inner city.”

      “Most people spend their life trying to escape there,” Rebekkah said coolly. “I find it hard to believe you’re enjoying work that pays next to nothing and small-time cases.”

      André tilted his head. “Is that how you see it, Rebekkah? That the little people aren’t worth the work? I’m surprised.”

      Rebekkah had the grace to blush. “I—” She cleared her throat and continued, “I apologize, André. We once again have gotten off on the wrong foot. Actually, I’ve seen few lawyers who like working in the inner city. Most prefer a challenge that a bigger company represents—as well as the job security. I simply meant it’s hard to believe after working with your father you’d find pleasure living from hand to mouth like that.”

      André continued to smile, his hands steepled in front of him as he studied her. “Do you peg all people like this before you get to know them or just me?”

      Realizing she had no control over this conversation and wasn’t going to gain control, she shook her head. “Again, I apologize.”

      André shook his head slightly. The candlelight brought out the golden tones in his hair and caused his eyes to twinkle with what looked like merriment. “Relax, Rebekkah. You came in here tonight prepared to do battle. I’m not sure why, but let’s call a truce while we’re together. Okay?”

      Rebekkah hesitated. “I suppose I’m worried you’re going to hurt your father again.”

      André’s smile became strained. “I promise you, Rebekkah, I have no intention of hurting my father. I simply want him to admit he was wrong in breaking up my engagement. But, since we have to work together, I suggest we avoid that subject as much as possible. After all, if I’d wanted to hurt my father, I could have found a much easier way than coming to him with what I’d learned.”

      Rebekkah sighed and admitted he was right. Waving a hand, she nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you, actually,” she confessed.

      “My father, I presume, has already flayed me alive?”

      Rebekkah shook her head. “Actually, no, André. He’s proud of what you’ve accomplished. But since we are avoiding that subject,” she said softly, “what I meant was in court. I’ve heard you’re competent and usually get what you set out to do.”

      André nodded. “I prefer civil cases, though I did assist my father in other areas as needed. I’ve backed off a lot of what I did when I first passed the bars.”

      “What you were doing when you were involved in the Kittering case?” Rebekkah asked.

      André nodded. “I used to be a trial lawyer,” he admitted.

      “I’ve researched the case and come up with a brief outline.”

      “It was a simple enough case,” André said, nodding his thanks as the waitress brought their tea and salads. He showed no discomfiture that she had researched a case he’d worked on or that she wanted to get right down to business. “A big company accused of not sticking to the EPA standards and poisoning the land around them. We proved the company was indeed within the bounds of the law.”

      “You proved that the poor people who had hired their lawyer didn’t get a very good lawyer,” Rebekkah countered. “Devil’s advocate here,” she added at his sudden scrutiny.

      “Ah…well, perhaps.” He played along.

      “Enough that it might actually help them win the case if it’s reopened in an appeal?”

      André frowned. “Kittering had allegedly caused problems in the Alaskan wilderness with the fishing and water. There was proof that the number of fish the area produced was down. But then, the population was up and many more tourists had visited the area in the previous two years. There were minute amounts of their chemicals in the water, but nothing near what the EPA insisted Kittering keep their levels below.”

      “But what about the wildlife?”

      Rebekkah said a quick prayer before picking up her fork and taking a bite of salad. André followed suit.

      He had elegant hands, not the hands of a worker, but long gentle hands, she noticed. She thought of this Sunday when he’d shown up at church, when his friends had handed him their baby for a moment and how careful he had been. André was different from others she had met. And she knew many other male lawyers. Most were concerned about their careers and climbing the corporate ladder. Many played fast and loose. Rebekkah had clawed her way up that ladder, reveling when Drydan had taken her into the firm, even though she suspected it was to fulfill a minority quota.

      She had a chance, at least.

      And she wasn’t going to blow it. Yet here sat André, a man raised in elegance, shrugging over his career, calm over the fact this case, if reopened, might damage his reputation and that of his family.

      How he could be so at ease, she had no idea.

      “If I remember correctly,” André finally said, “there was never any direct proof that the deaths of those animals could be attributed to the drinking of the water—which was what the original lawsuit was about—the water contamination that was causing illnesses to so many in the area.”

      “Yes, but what if they’ve found a connection?” she asked. “I’ve gone through all the information I could find on the case. Your client was adamant that they had no idea of the pending lawsuit, thus could not have covered it up.”

      “On the day the Langley representative testified, it clearly indicates he didn’t visit the site until after the lawsuit. And then he went up with the intention of finding out the truth,” André said.

      Rebekkah took another bite of her salad, frowning. “Is it possible someone forged the interoffice memo to make it look like the company was guilty when they weren’t?”

      André set his salad plate and fork aside. “I suppose so. We won’t know until we see it. However, if someone did do that, then they’d surely know it would easily be proven a fake.”

      When the waitress appeared with their seafood they both fell silent.

      Once she was gone, André continued. “I think it best we go on the assumption this is true and that someone is indeed going to visit the site СКАЧАТЬ