He was not so confident, however, he’d be successful in shaking a huge settlement like that out of the carrier.
Usually, he could count on a carrier to pay a settlement to keep the whole thing out of the public’s eye. Attorneys could often make the case, right or wrong, that the cause of the accident had been the trucker’s fault because of lack of proper safety training by the trucking company. He’s seen huge settlements offered for just that reason.
The problem this time was authorities were already hinting the truck driver would be exonerated for the crash. Doubling the problem was the celebrity status of the trucker as a hero, and his universally favorable reputation among law enforcement. It would be impossible to find a witness against him.
The carrier would simply have no incentive to agree to a settlement – of any amount, much less for fifty million, which left Fishburn with only the alternative of filing a civil lawsuit.
Fishburn had considered letting this one go. Find another victim, and try again. The problem with that idea, and why he had immediately dismissed it, was because the deed was done. It had cost several lives, and Joe and the husband would expect to be paid. Fishburn knew Joe could get ugly about it. The husband could turn snitch and cause all kinds of trouble.
No, Fishburn decided, he’d have to file a civil lawsuit. But to win he’d need a ringer. Someone who could testify against the truck driver to tarnish his golden reputation. That’s the only way the attorney could see him getting enough of an edge to persuade a jury to call for the nuclear verdict Fishburn needed.
He had begun to germinate an idea along those lines when he had pulled up information from an Internet search about this truck driver, Hugh Mann. One newspaper article in particular had caught his attention. Apparently, a reporter at the Idaho Times newspaper was planning to ride with this trucker and do a series of feature articles about him.
Obviously, it could be some time before the trucker was back on the road again. He was probably getting his truck repaired. Probably in Phoenix. Probably at the Freightliner dealership on I-10 south of the 202. Fishburn was familiar with that facility. The folks at that dealership wouldn’t know it but in a way the attorney who had staged numerous fake-crash accidents against truckers in and around the Phoenix area was responsible for a lot of their repair business.
The attorney began thinking. What if he could get the reporter to hook up with the truck driver shortly after he leaves the repair facility? What if he could encourage the reporter to report back to him with damaging information that could be used against the trucker and his carrier in the lawsuit?
Fishburn thumbed his phone to scroll his list of contacts, and tapped one of the numbers to dial the person he was looking for.
“Frank, I’ve got a job for you. I need it done ASAP.” He listened to Frank’s end of the conversation.
“I know it’s late. You’ll have to do some research overnight. Then here’s what I want you to do first thing tomorrow morning.”
Fishburn spelled out his plan. Then hung up the phone.
Perfect. A brilliant fifty-million-dollar idea.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Hello. Charlie Shields here.”
Her desk phone had rung soon after Charlie had gotten to the newspaper office in the morning.
“Hello. My name is Frank Rico. I’m with Rico Investigations.”
“What can I do for you, Frank?”
An investigator calling her. Could be a story lead. She typed “Frank Rico Investigations” into her browser’s search bar. Top of the first search page was a link to a Phoenix-based private investigation firm.
Phoenix. Hmm. That’s where she knew Hugh was right now, and where he had gotten into the accident. Of course, her newspaper had published an article about it.
“I represent a client who has an interest in the ride-along you have planned with the truck driver, Hugh Mann.”
“What’s the name of your client?”
“You know I can’t tell you that. But nice try,”
“And I can’t tell you anything about any story I am working on. But nice try.” She was about to hang up.
“OK. Let’s cut the crap. I know you’ve been ordered to get a ride-along, but you’ve also hit a dead end with the trucker.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m an investigator. I find out things.”
“Well, maybe you can investigate and find out you can go fuck yourself.”
“My client is prepared to pay, shall we say, a significant stipend to the reporter who can snag a ride with this trucker.”
“My reporting is not for sale. And even if it was, you couldn’t afford me, and the trucker has made it very clear he is not going to have me on his truck. Period.”
“What if I told you my client can make it happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“Get you on the truck.”
“OK. I’m interested. Keep talking.”
Hugh awoke first again. This time he had full use of all his extremities, as Jenny had rolled away sometime during the night and was sleeping on her side touching, but not all draped over, Hugh.
He got out of bed as quietly as he could, and was first in the bathroom.
Coming out, he saw Jenny was awake, and sitting up in bed against the headboard looking through a “Things to do in Phoenix” brochure.
“Hey, Hugh?”
“Yes, dear.”
“It says here a stable is nearby with rental horses. That there are trails all over South Mountain. Would you be interested?”
“Absolutely. I think it would be great. Let’s have breakfast, and then check it out.”
They got dressed and went down to one of the other resort restaurants. The Grill, they had noticed, served full-course breakfasts.
“You forgot to tell me when
