Shirley Jump – Maverick Vs. Maverick (страница 2)

Marty shrugged. “I guess so. Pretty girl.”

“Good looks doesn’t make her a good lawyer,” Walker said. She might be a bit distracting, but that didn’t mean his lawyer couldn’t argue against her and get this case thrown out.

She walked to the front of the courtroom, not sparing a glance at either Walker or Marty, then took her seat on the plaintiff’s side, with her clients on her right. An older woman, probably a grandma, sat in the gallery with the couple’s baby on her lap. Lindsay turned and gave the baby a big grin. The child cooed. Lindsay covered her eyes for a second, opened her hands like a book, and whispered “peekaboo.” The baby giggled and Lindsay repeated the action twice more, before turning back to the front of the courtroom.

It was a sweet, tender moment, but Walker knew full well that Lindsay Dalton had arranged to have the baby here, not for silly games, but to garner some sympathy points.

The door behind the judge’s bench opened and Judge Andrews stepped out. Short, bespectacled and a little on the pudgy side, Judge Andrews resembled a heavy Bob Newhart. The bailiff called, “All rise,” and everyone stood while Andrews gave the courtroom a nod, then took his place on the bench.

“You may be seated,” he said. Then the bailiff called the court to order, and they got under way.

This was the part Walker liked the best, whether it was in courtroom or in the boardroom. That eager anticipation in his gut just before everything started. Like two armies squaring off across the battlefield, with the tension so high it charged the air.

“We’re here on your motion for a summary judgment regarding the lawsuit brought by the plaintiffs, represented by Ms. Dalton, correct?” Judge Andrews asked Walker’s attorney.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge waved at the podium. “Then, Mr. Peyton, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Marty got to his feet and laid his notes before him on the table. “This lawsuit, brought against Mr. Jones’s day care center, is a waste of everyone’s time. There is simply no legal or factual basis for the suit. Ms. Dalton is trying to prove that her client’s child caught a cold at the center, but there is no evidence whatsoever to support that claim. Germs are a fact of life, Your Honor. They’re on any surface we touch, and no one can prove that the Marshalls’ child contracted a common cold because of her time in day care. Why, for all we know, one of the Marshalls could have brought the germs into their own house. All it takes is one sneeze from a stranger or contact with a germ-infested surface in a public place. Surely Ms. Dalton can’t blame Mr. Jones’s day care center for the world’s inability to reach for a Kleenex at the right time.”

That was a line Walker had given Marty in their meeting last week. It seemed to amuse the judge. A smile ghosted on his face then disappeared.

“Your Honor,” Marty continued, “there are no cases holding that a day care center is legally responsible when a child who spends part of her day there comes down with a cold. Frankly, it’s a frivolous claim, and we’re asking that the court enter summary judgment in the defendant’s favor, dismissing this case.”

Judge Andrews nodded at Marty, then turned to Lindsay Dalton. “Ms. Dalton?”

Lindsay got to her feet and smoothed a hand down the front of her jacket. She took a moment to draw in a breath, as if centering herself.

She was nervous. Good, Walker thought. He had this thing won already.

“Your Honor, Mr. Peyton is greatly minimizing the situation at hand. This was not a common cold, not by any means. We intend to prove that Mr. Jones’s day care center, Just Us Kids, has been grossly negligent in cleanliness, resulting in a severe respiratory syncytial virus infection for Georgina Marshall, the then three-month-old child of Peter and Heather Marshall. The Marshalls entrusted Mr. Jones’s day care center with the care of their precious child, only to end up sitting by her hospital bed, praying for her to overcome the bronchitis that developed as a result of her exposure to RSV.”

Walker fought the urge to roll his eyes. Precious child? Praying?

“Your Honor, RSV is a respiratory infection,” Marty said, standing up again. “It’s marked by a cough and runny nose. Just like the common cold.”

“Georgina stopped eating,” Lindsay countered. “She lost two pounds, which for a baby of her size is a dramatic weight loss. The hospital she was in didn’t see this as a common cold. They saw it as a life-threatening illness. A life-threatening illness caused by Mr. Jones’s negligence.” With those words she turned and glared directly at Walker.

As if he was the one neglecting to mop the floors and wipe down the toys every night. Walker had barely stepped inside the day care center in Rust Creek Falls. He’d left his brother Hudson to oversee the business and hired a highly experienced and competent manager to help run the place. He had no doubt that Just Us Kids was running as smoothly as a Swiss watch.

He was busy enough maintaining the corporate interests. He had oil wells in Texas and overseas, the financial division expanding in the northeast, and then these day care centers, all started in small towns because his research had shown they were the most in need of child care resources.

Ms. Dalton rushed on. “Your Honor, I invite you to read the medical charts, which we filed with the court in opposition to the defendant’s motion for summary judgment. Those alone will prove how close the Marshalls came to losing their only child.”

Marty got to his feet. “Your Honor, does the Marshalls’ counsel really need to use words like ‘precious’? All children are precious, and no disrespect to the Marshalls, but their child is no more precious than anyone else’s. Can we stick to facts, without the flowery language?”

“The facts are clear, Your Honor,” Lindsay said. “The Marshalls’ baby contracted RSV as a direct result of staying in Mr. Jones’s day care. As did many other children—”

“This case is only about the Marshalls,” Walker interjected. “It’s one family, not a class action.”

She wheeled on him and shot him a glare. “They merely want justice for the pain and suffering their daughter endured.”

Code for give us a big settlement so we never have to work again. Walker bit back a sigh. He was tired of people who used the justice system to make a quick buck.

“The child is healthy now,” Walker said to the judge, despite Marty waving a hand to silence him. “This was a short-lived illness, and again, not traceable to any one contaminant. To blame my day care center is casting a pretty specific net in a very large river.”

The judge gave him a stern look. “Mr. Walker, I’ll thank you to leave the argument to your lawyer. You’re not here testifying today.”

“I apologize for my client’s outburst, Your Honor,” Marty said smoothly. “It’s just that this is so clearly a frivolous claim. Which is why we are moving to have this case dismissed before it wastes any more of the court’s time.”

Judge Andrews nodded again, and both lawyers sat to wait for him to announce his ruling. He flipped through the papers before him, taking a few minutes to scan the documents.

Walker sat at his table, maintaining a calm demeanor, as if this whole thing was a walk in the park. In all honesty, though, if he lost this case, it could severely impact his whole company and the future of the entire Just Us Kids Day Care chain. He refused to let some small-town lawyer derail his future expansion plans. Jones Holdings, Inc. was solid enough to withstand this tiny dent, but he wasn’t so sure the day care centers could rise above the ensuing bad publicity if the case wasn’t dismissed. Walker was in this business to make a profit, not to see it wiped away by some overeager small-town lawyer.

Lindsay Dalton had her legs crossed, right over left, and her right foot swung back and forth in a tight, nervous arc under the table. She whispered something to Heather Marshall, who nodded then covered Lindsay’s hand with her own and gave it a squeeze. Heather Marshall’s eyes watered—whether for real or for effect, Walker couldn’t tell. He’d seen enough people fake emotions in business that a few tears no longer swayed him.

Judge Andrews cleared his throat and looked up from his paperwork. “It’s the opinion of this court that there is sufficient evidence to proceed to trial on this case.” He put up a hand to ward off Marty’s objections, then lowered his glasses and looked at Walker’s attorney. “Mr. Peyton, you and your client may think this suit is frivolous, but the evidence Ms. Dalton has offered demonstrates that there are genuine issues of material fact. Now, let’s talk about a date for the trial. I realize we had set a date for four weeks from today, but that date will no longer work for me. As part of the joys of getting old, I have to have a knee replaced, and am not sure how long I will be out.”

Great. That would just make this thing drag on longer and longer. Walker didn’t need the prolonged negative publicity.

“But thanks to a big case settling just this morning, my schedule for next week has an unexpected hole in it and I can hear your arguments on Tuesday morning, after the Columbus Day holiday.”