a helpful middleaged woman date-stamped the response to the motion. But when I tried to pick up both copies, she held on to one of them
'One of these needs to go in the file. You can serve the other,' she said.
'No, I need to take it to Judge Cannon's office. There's a hearing tomorrow afternoon.'
The clerk pointed to a copy machine. 'Then make another copy.'
I panicked. 'I didn't bring my purse and don't have any money.'
An image of myself hot and sweaty, running back to the office, flashed through my mind.
'Which law firm do you work for?' the woman asked.
'Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter.'
'Use their copy code.'
'I'm a summer clerk. It's my first day, and I don't have it with me.'
The woman made a face that showed me I'd reached the end of her patience.
'Call and get it,' she said.
'I don't have a cell phone.'
The woman rubbed her hand across her forehead and through her hair. Without saying anything else, she reached under the counter and retrieved a black notebook. She flipped open the book and turned it so I could see the firm name with a number beside it.
'Thank you,' I replied gratefully.
I made two copies in case I hit another unforeseen roadblock. I left the clerk's office and found Judge Cannon's chambers on the directory beside the elevator. It must have been a day for criminal court, because several of the people who joined me on the elevator looked like criminals. No one spoke, but two of the men stole sideways glances at me. I quickly stepped out when the door opened.
The judge's office had an anteroom where an older woman sat behind a scarred wooden desk. Public administration of justice didn't pay as well as the private practice of law. I identified myself and handed the envelope to the woman.
'The judge has something for you to deliver to Mr. Carpenter,' the woman said in a raspy voice. 'I was going to mail it, but you can deliver it in person.'
'Yes ma'am. I'll be glad to.'
She gave me a sealed envelope. Holding it tightly in my hand along with the service copies of the response to the motion, I retraced my steps to the law firm. It was hot, and I was doubly glad I'd not had to make an extra trip. By the time I reached the foyer of the law office, the cool air felt good on my hot face. I climbed the stairs to Myra's office. Her door was closed. I knocked.
'Come in,' she said.
'Here it is,' I announced. I laid the stamped copies on her desk. I held up the other envelope. 'The judge's secretary gave me this to deliver to Mr. Carpenter.'
'Take it downstairs to his office,' she said without thanking me and resumed her work.
I didn't know where to go so I wandered the hallway looking for clues. I opened one door. An older man with a bald head and wearing glasses glanced up in obvious irritation.
'Sorry,' I mumbled and quickly closed the door.
At that moment, Julie Feldman entered the hall.
'Where's Mr. Carpenter's office?' I asked in relief. 'I have something to give him from a judge.'
'He's on a conference call with a client, but his secretary is in there,' she replied, pointing to a door next to the one I'd opened.
'What does he look like?' I asked in an anxious voice.
'Uh, he's tall with gray hair and a goatee. He reminds me of an actor whose name I can't remember. Some guy who used to be in old movies.'
'Good,' I said with relief. 'What are you doing for him?'
Julie held up a thick file in her hand. 'He gave me a research project, something about competing security interests in forklifts and other equipment at a big factory that's about to go into bankruptcy. There are claims by two banks and three companies that sold the equipment. I'm supposed to read all the documents and prepare a chart telling him which companies are secured as to each piece of property and for how much.'
'That sounds interesting,' I replied.
Julie gave me a strange look. 'Are you kidding?' she asked.
'No.'
Julie shook her head. 'I'll see you at lunch. Until then, I'll have my head stuck in article nine of the uniform commercial code.'
I entered the office, which was as fancy as the office at the courthouse had been plain. I introduced myself to a woman in her thirties and gave her the envelope from Judge Cannon.
'Have a seat,' she said, motioning to one of two chairs in front of her desk. 'Mr. Carpenter will want to meet you as soon as he finishes his conference call.'
I sat down and waited. Fifteen minutes passed. The secretary ignored me. Both Julie and Vince Colbert were already busy on projects. I knew it was only the first day, but I already felt behind. Another fifteen minutes passed. In between phone calls, which she seemed to be able to handle without consulting Mr. Carpenter, the secretary's fingers flew across the keyboard. I wanted to be productive. But there was nothing to do except become intimately familiar with every detail of the room. More time passed. Finally, the secretary seemed to notice my existence again. She picked up the phone and told Mr. Carpenter that I was waiting to see him. The office door behind her opened, and a man matching Julie's description entered the room.
Mr. Carpenter had a slender build and extended his hand in a way that struck me as slightly effeminate. However, when I shook his hand, the grip was firm.
'Ms. Saylor,' he said in a smooth voice.
'It's Taylor,' I corrected, perhaps too abruptly.
'Sorry,' he said. 'Tami, right?'
'Yes sir.'
We entered his office. It was about the same size as Mr. Callahan's office. Apparently, Mr. Carpenter liked boats, because the walls were covered with pictures of yachts.
'I've been on the phone with so many people this morning the names are running together.'
He sat behind a large desk with a leather inlaid top and stared at me for several seconds without speaking. I shifted in my seat.
'You have a lovely office,' I said.
His phone buzzed and he picked it up. 'Put him through,' he said after listening for a moment.
I started to get up, but he motioned for me to remain. The call involved a domestic relations case. Mr. Carpenter represented the husband who had filed for the divorce. I picked up that the man on the other end of the line was the lawyer for the wife. The main issue had to do with division of property.
'Our answers to your discovery set valuation of the marital estate at twenty-two million and change,' Mr. Carpenter said. 'I think we should be able to arrive at an amicable resolution. My letter of the fifteenth is a starting point, but there is room for discussion on several items.'
Mr. Carpenter listened for a long time. I watched his jaw tighten and his lips turn downward.
'Bob, I don't think you want to go there,' he said. 'We can divide the pie, but if you try to throw it in my face, this will get messy.'
It seemed like a silly comment, but the way Mr. Carpenter said it sounded ominous. He listened again, then spoke in a steely voice.
'If that's the way you want it, we'll litigate into the next decade. Have your paralegal call Myra Dean to set up the depositions.' He paused. 'And tell Mrs. Folsom my previous proposal is off the table. Our next offer will be less-a lot less.'
He hung up the phone and looked at me.
'Welcome to Savannah,' he said cheerily.
I gave him a startled look at his easy transition from threatening to friendly. 'Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity.'
'Gerry tells me you're living with Margaret Fairmont. She's a gracious lady. Her husband was a great friend of
