Chapter 20
Sasha hung up as Connelly’s voicemail greeting began. It was bad enough she felt compelled to report to Connelly that she had to go out to court; she damn well wasn’t going to leave him a message. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
She turned her attention to the file and her fresh coffee. The Hemisphere Air team meeting had been brief—mainly a chance to make sure everyone had heard about Noah and to stress that they were to forge ahead with their assignments in his absence. Grief counseling lawyer-style.
Now she had less than an hour before she was due in court on the class certification argument.
She flipped the pleadings binder open to the complaint. It was a putative federal class action on behalf of customers who had purchased Slim Down, a diet supplement sold by VitaMight.
VitaMight was one of Noah’s newer clients and was headquartered in suburban Philadelphia. Sasha guessed that was why Noah had used Ben Carson—an associate who worked out of the firm’s small Philadelphia office—on the case.
The putative class representative, one Warren Jefferson, alleged that, not only had he not lost the promised weight while taking Slim Down, he had gained forty pounds. The complaint alleged common law fraud, breach of contract, and violations of Pennsylvania’s Unfair Trade Practices/Consumer Protection Act. There was no way the complaint would withstand a certification challenge.
She paged back to the briefing papers. Noah, or more likely, Ben, had written a strong opposition to certification. The plaintiff’s response was not compelling.
Why would Noah agree to settle what looked like an easy defense win? She checked the signature block for plaintiff’s counsel. Eric Donaldson. She didn’t recognize the name, which meant he wasn’t a power hitter.
She dialed the interoffice number for the Philadelphia office and was connected to Carlson.
“Ben Carlson.”
She’d met the junior attorney a few times but had never worked with him. “Ben, this is Sasha McCandless in the Pittsburgh office.”
“Uh, hi, Sasha. What can I do for you?”
She heard his desk chair roll across the floor. He was probably reaching for a pen, so she gave him a minute.
“Well, first, in case you haven’t heard, Noah Peterson was in a fatal car accident last night.” She had no idea how Cinco and his band of managers was planning to spread the news to the satellite offices.
“Noah’s ... dead?”
“I’m afraid so.”
They sat in mutual silence for a moment.
Ben spoke first. “I’m so ... sorry.”
“Me, too. Listen, I have to be in court at 9:30 on your VitaMight case. Just to let the court know about Noah. I have the file and I understand you guys were working out the details of a settlement with plaintiff’s counsel.”
“Right.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he repeated.
“Yeah. I read the briefing. You slammed him. There’s no way class cert would get granted. Do you know why Noah was settling the case?”
Ben forced out a little laugh. “The judge.”
She flipped to the civil cover sheet. The case was assigned to the Honorable Cliff Cook.
“I’ll confess I don’t know much about Judge Cook.” He was an Obama appointee and Sasha hadn’t had any cases before him.
“I only attended one status conference,” Ben said. “But it was clear that the judge hated Noah— really hated him. I asked Noah about it at lunch. He said Cook had a bias against all big firms, but especially ours. I don’t know, though, it sure seemed like personal animosity to me. Anyway, Noah advised the client that, given the hostile judge, the safe business decision was a cheap, early settlement. And they agreed. I think Donaldson is going to take somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty grand to go away, so Noah was probably right.”
She could hear in his voice that he had wanted to fight this one out. It was a hard lesson for young Prescott & Talbott lawyers. They weren’t trial attorneys, they were litigators—working hard to litigate the case away before it got to trial.
“Ok, well, thanks for the background. I’ll be in touch after the hearing. I assume you’re working on a settlement agreement?”
“Yep. I’ll forward you a draft. And, Sasha, will you let me know about the ... uh, arrangements for Noah? I learned a lot from him. I’d like to pay my respects.”
“Will do.”
She put the receiver back on the base and looked out the window. Why would Judge Cook hate Noah?
She smelled cinnamon. She turned to see Naya in the doorway to her office, balancing a slice of coffee cake on a small porcelain plate.
“You look like shit, sister,” she said pulling the door closed behind her. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Sasha couldn’t remember. It was probably when she had the sushi. She took the outstretched plate from Naya and put it on the desk in front of her. She started to pick at it with her fingers. It was still warm.
“Where’d this come from?”
“The Westinghouse conference room. Noah’s clients have started sending over food and flowers. It’s like a corporate wake or something.”
The coffee cake was good. Moist and fresh. Plus, she was starving. Sasha nodded, her mouth full. Swallowed and washed it down with some coffee.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. You looked a little faint at the meeting.”
That was not good. She couldn’t afford to appear weak; not now. “Eh, I was probably still recovering from my meeting with Cinco.”
Naya’s left eyebrow shot up. “You met with him?”
“Yeah. They’re gonna let me run the crash team.”
Naya’s right eyebrow joined its mate high on her forehead.
“I know, right? Get this, Viv insisted.”
Naya looked as baffled as Sasha felt. Sasha scooped the last of the cake into her mouth, then went on, “I don’t know. Anyway, I have to go into court on another one of Noah’s cases this morning. I just got off the phone with the associate in Philly and he said the judge has some kind of personal animosity for Noah.”
Naya interrupted her, “Cook. Gotta be.”
“It is. Do you know the story?”
Naya pulled the guest chair over and had a seat. “How much time you got?”
Sasha checked her computer display. “A few minutes.”
“The short version is, back when he was a partner at Bristow & Baines, Judge Cook was the first African-American invited to join Noah’s country club, North Heights or whatever it is. It was pretty much a done deal. The guy who sponsored him had lined up all the votes in advance. Then, on the day of the actual vote, Noah backed out. He had agreed to support Judge Cook, but he voted against him. A few other old white dudes joined him, but it didn’t matter. The vote had to be unanimous, so Cook has had a hard on for Noah ever since.”
Sasha stared at her. “Are you saying Noah was a racist?”
“Hell, no, Noah was a capitalist. He didn’t care about black or white, just green. What’s his face, the CFO of Steel Bank, told Noah he’d throw him his business if he voted against Cook.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Noah told me. We were having drinks one night after a jury trial and Judge Cook walked into the bar. He saw Noah and the temperature dropped about twenty degrees.”
“Great.”
Naya pushed her chair back, “Knock ‘em dead, counselor.”
“Thanks. Hey, can you have someone pull old deal files on Hemisphere Air? Have them go back ten years. I want copies of all the due diligence memos.”
“I’ll do it myself. Everyone around here is either crying or running around urgently for no real reason. What are you looking for, Mac?”
“I’m not sure. Anything that seems off.”
Naya nodded and left. Sasha slid the file into her trial bag and shed her sweater to shrug into the spare suit jacket that hung on the back of her office door.
S
he stopped at Lettie’s work station on her way out. Flora hurriedly hit the X to close out her internet browser, but not before Sasha saw that she was searching for images of a mermaid.
Realizing she was caught, Flora laughed to cover her guilt. “I’m getting a new tattoo this weekend,” she explained. “A mermaid on the small of my back.”
Sasha closed her eyes briefly. Wrestled control of her temper.
“Great. Listen, Flora, I have to go to court. I should be back in an hour, probably less. I’m expecting a very important package. As soon as it arrives, please bring it in and put it on my desk.”
“Got it!” Flora answered a little too brightly for Sasha’s comfort.
“Okay, thanks.” She checked her watch. She didn’t have time to stop up and see Lettie, ask her to make sure Flora understood. It wasn’t rocket science. She’d have to trust the fill-in secretary.
As Sasha hurried through the building lobby, she noticed two large men in wrinkled suits talking to Ron, the creepy security guard. She did not notice the silver Camry with Maryland plates parked across the street.