“Thank you,” Charlene said, feeling set up.
“I remember when I was about your age,” Winsor said. “And had my first big trial. A terrible accident involving a power saw. Man got his hand sawed off clean. Young man, too. Had his whole life ahead of him.”
That was curious. “You were a plaintiff’s lawyer?”
Winsor smiled, showing his perfect teeth. “No, I represented the insurance company. The injured man claimed the saw was defective in design. Had a pretty good lawyer, too. But when it was all over, the jury came back unanimously against him.” He leaned forward. “See, not every injury gets compensation. The jury found that the man was responsible to read the directions and use the saw the right way. He didn’t.”
Charlene looked at him. “Are you suggesting, Mr. Winsor, that my client is in the same position? That she is somehow responsible for what happened to her?”
“Just an illustration, that’s all. But today’s juries do believe people have to be responsible for their actions. There’s a real distrust of plaintiff actions like this one. And my intuition is this jury of ours has that feeling. Don’t you feel it too?”
In truth, she did. She felt the jury, especially after seeing Winsor at work, slipping slowly away.
“But I’m not one to harp on the negative,” Winsor said. “I’m gonna offer you eight hundred thousand dollars to settle this thing right here and now. Eight hundred thousand, Miss Moore. Now that’s not bad for a case that might be worth zero after the verdict. Ah, here’s the coffee.”
Charlene hardly noticed the waiter placing the steaming cup in front of her.
“Let me grease the tracks a little for you,” Winsor said. “I know how much you have put into this case. I know what it costs to conduct discovery, to put you and your client up in a hotel, to take time away from other cases you could be handling. I know what that’s like.”
She wondered if he did, really. Had he ever been on the side of the little guy? Or had his entire career been funded by checks signed by insurance companies?
“So settlement would not only clear up those expenses,” Winsor continued, “but also let you go home with a nice chunk of change. Now how about it?”
Something in the way he said “chunk of change” set her off. She could hear part of her mind telling her not to say anything. But another part, a deeper part, could not turn back.
“May I ask you a personal question, Mr. Winsor?”
“Feel free,” he said.
“How can you defend what these clinics are doing? How can you, as a Christian, defend a system that encourages the taking of human life?”
The words came out in a rush, and Charlene saw an immediate reaction in Winsor. For a long, uncomfortable moment he just stared into Charlene’s eyes. Finally he said, “Are you questioning my faith?”
With her heart flitting like a bird in a cage, Charlene said, “I am asking you, a lawyer, to defend a position that goes against God’s will.”
Winsor sipped his coffee, thinking. “Do you presume to know God’s will?”
“I think in the case of abortion it’s pretty clear.”
“It must be nice to see the world in black and white,” Beau Winsor said. “Those of us who live in the gray areas actually envy you sometimes.”
She saw in his eyes then a quick flash of vulnerability. It was brief, passing, but real. She had never seen anything at all like it in him before. And, she was sure, he would not allow her to see it again.
Winsor took a leather wallet from his suit coat, removed a crisp ten-dollar bill, and placed it on the table. Then he stood up.
“My offer is good until four o’clock this afternoon,” he said. “I advise you to take it. If you don’t, I will hold nothing back. I will see to it that you never see a dime. You know where to reach me.”
He turned and walked away.
3
“Won’t you sit down?” Jack Holden asked.
“No, thank you,” Millie replied. “I will not be long.” They were in his office less than an hour after the service had ended. Millie had walked around town, sore in more ways than one, waiting for the congregation to disperse.
“That’s too bad,” Holden said. He seemed oblivious to her feelings. “I was hoping to have a chance to talk with you a bit. How about something to drink? Coffee? Dr. Pepper? I have a fine Dr. Pepper, 2002. A very good year.”
Millie chafed at the attempted humor. “This is not a social visit.”
Jack Holden’s face stayed friendly, but concerned. “I’m starting to get that feeling.”
“I’ll just ask you straight, then. What did you mean by your sermon?”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“I did not. And I did not appreciate being put on the spot like that in front of my mother.” A thought struck her. “Did she put you up to it?”
“Justice Hollander, would you mind telling me what you found objectionable?”
“You can’t guess?”
“Was it scripturally unsound?”
“It had nothing to do with Scripture.”
“Then it would be unsound!”
“I don’t find that funny. You stood in the pulpit and directed a sermon at me. You took advantage of my situation, my accident, and delivered what was tantamount to a lecture for one. Well, I found it highly offensive and unethical.”
The pastor swallowed. He looked like he’d been hit with a hockey stick. Good. He needed to be.
“You took something highly private,” Millie continued, “and made a whole sermon about it. You even mentioned a book I was reading. If you wanted to shine a spotlight on me in front of this whole town you did a pretty good job of it. Is that your idea of Christianity? To embarrass people, stick needles in them?”
“This was not – ”
“That is all I have to say. I will assure you, for the sake of my mother, that I won’t talk about what I’ve said here with anyone. I will show you a courtesy you did not show me.”
She turned toward the door.
“Justice Hollander.”
“There is nothing more to discuss.” She put her hand on the doorknob.
“Sixth Amendment,” Holden said.
Millie whirled around. “Excuse me?”
“Does not the accused have the right to a trial?”
“I am not amused.” Though she was surprised that he would be quoting the Constitution at her.
Holden stood and walked to the front of his desk. “I am not trying to be amusing, Justice Hollander. I would only like the chance to say something in my own defense.”
“I am really not interested in discussing this further.”
“You at least owe me that.”
