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.”
Lindsay Dalton shot to her feet. “Objection, Your Honor. I need more time to adequately prepare—”
“From what I have seen, you are prepared, Ms. Dalton. Tuesday is the date, unless you and your clients want to prolong this case indefinitely.” The Marshalls shook their head, and Lindsay nodded acceptance. “Good. I will see you all back here Tuesday at 9:00 a.m. Court dismissed.” He banged the gavel, then got to his feet.
Everyone rose and waited until the judge had exited the courtroom, before the lawyers turned to gather their papers. Walker leaned toward Marty. “Temporary setback.”
Marty gave him a dubious look. “I told you, she may be new, but we have our work cut out for us.”
“Piece of cake,” Walker said. “Don’t worry.”
The Marshalls walked by him, holding hands and giving Lindsay wavering smiles. The Marshalls didn’t look like frivolous lawsuit people, and Lindsay Dalton didn’t look like a crappy small-town lawyer hired by her daddy. She looked like one of those ridiculously nice, highly principled people who only wanted to do the right thing to brighten their corner of the world. But Walker knew better. She wasn’t here to play nice and he wasn’t about to let her win, even if this schedule change threw a giant monkey wrench into his plans.
One that meant there was a very, very strong possibility that Walker Jones was going to be in Rust Creek Falls a lot longer than he had thought.
* * *
The mirrored wall behind the bar at Ace in the Hole was good for reflecting a lot more than the alcohol bottles lined up on the shelf, Lindsay Dalton realized. It also showed her own frustrated features. Even now, hours after she’d left the courtroom and her first battle against Walker Jones, Lindsay was
