Southern Justice, Part 38
I’m Fixin’ To present part 38 of Southern Justice:
When B. Wendell Hormel told Patty about the security guards reporting a prowler in the back of their building and asked her if she had noticed anything unusual lately, the unlocked window and the missing hand written list of Rick Haselton’s assets immediately came to mind, but for reasons she couldn’t explain to herself, she decided not to mention either of them.
“Uh, no, nothing I can bring to mind,” she lied.
“Oh, well,” B. Wendell speculated, It’s probably nothing. By the way, you look outstanding! What brought on this miraculous change in your appearance?”
Patty sat in thought a couple of moments before she answered. “It was an accumulation of things. One of them is what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to let you know that I graduated from law school recently and—”
“That’s great news!” B. Wendell interrupted. “We’ll have to talk about getting you a raise in salary!”
Patty continued, “But that’s not all–I also passed the bar exam, was sworn in as an attorney in Dekalb County Superior Court, and I am now licensed to practice law in the state of Georgia.”
The look on B. Wendell’s face slowly transferred from pleasant to a serious one of distrust before he asked, “Why haven’t you kept me up to date, Patty?”
“I just wanted to get it all behind me before I said anything. What I want to do is open my own law practice, and since I’ve been here six years, I wondered if you would help me get a head start with these three files?”
She placed the three case files on his desk and continued, “There’s a backlog of cases, and these three would not only get my practice going, but would also expedite results for the clients.”
B. Wendell rubbed the stubble of growth on his chin as he sat in thought. Finally he said, “I’ll tell you what Patty, I want to make you a counter offer—stay here with me in your present capacity and I’ll double your salary.”
“That would be about fifty dollars an hour” Patty informed him. “I believe I can do quite better than that as a practicing attorney.”
Things were progressing exactly as she had expected. B. Wendell hated competition, and she could tell he was becoming frustrated as he picked up the three folders and drew them across the desk directly in front of himself before he said, “You know what, Patty, it’s a tough world out there. I started out on my own without any help and I did all right. If you’re determined to leave, then you’ll have to do the same. These files will remain in-house.”
“In that case I won’t be able to work out a notice,” Patty informed him.
B. Wendell stood up, angry and flustered. “Just follow me,” he instructed her.
Patty followed him to the door of Ray’s small office, where in a voice loud enough for everyone in the firm to hear said, “Ray, Miss Osborn is no longer employed here. Would you escort her out of the building after she has collected any personal belongings? Afterward, I want you back in my office.”
Without another word, B. Wendell turned his back on them both and walked away.
You could have heard a paperclip hit the carpeted floor it was so quiet in the office as Patty packed up her few things from her desk while Ray looked over her shoulder. There wasn’t much. It all fit into a small box, but the important things were already in the trunk of her car.
There were no good-byes. Everyone just stood and stared as she walked out the front door with Ray right behind her.
Outside in the parking lot, when she opened her car door Ray said, “Uh, listen doll, since we no longer work together, do you think—-”
“In your dreams, jerk!” Patty said as she slammed the car door in his face.
Traffic was light. The lunch crowd wasn’t out yet as Patty entered the ramp onto the interstate, deep in thought.
Getting fired didn’t bother her, but some other things did. The unlocked window in the law library, the missing list from the Haselton Senior’s file, the information about a prowler flying over the hedgerow, and the scratches on Chris’ face and neck– those things bothered her.
(tmdunagan@aol.com)