Page 92 of Passionate Defense

“He’s already made a deal with the DA’s office. Five years, eligible for parole in half, restitution to the tune of three million, which includes penalties. He’ll lose his law license and the State Bar will have no choice except to move for disbarment.”

“Two and a half years?” Lanie wrinkled her nose as she scanned the article. “I was hoping for more.”

“This is a victory. The civil trial starts Thursday and you’ll soon be able to put all of this behind you.”

She nodded as she folded the paper and set it aside. “It’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

They ate in companionable silence, both enjoying the buttery, syrupy goodness of the far-from-healthy breakfast. Lanie, in a good mood now that she’d brushed off the cobwebs of sleep, with a contented stomach full of her favorite breakfast food, and news that signaled the beginning of the end for Walt Simons, suddenly recalled some not-so-good news.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Me, too. I’ll try to be back in time for your opening on Thursday. I’ve got a panel discussion at nine and my flight is at eleven thirty. Barring delays, I should make it.”

She really wanted him there, but he was the keynote speaker at the criminal law seminar put on by the National Association every year. He’d committed to it months ago, and it was too late to back out now.

“Court convenes at one o’clock. Flight time from Baltimore is at least an hour. After juggling your luggage, parking, and the four-mile drive from Logan International at that time of day...” She shook her head. “I don’t want you killing yourself to get there. I’ll have Beth with me.”

“You need more suits at the table to counterbalance WW&S. Several of my students, some older and lawyerly looking, need more observation time. I’ll have them spit polished and turned out in force, just in case.”

“Thanks.” There was only one suit she cared about.

“It’s going to be okay, Lanie.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Your case is strong. You’ve got this.”

She hadn’t felt this nervous since her first trial appearance almost five years ago. But this was WW&S, not only was it important, but it was personal. Beth was in her corner, but with virtually no trial experience. For the first time in a major case, Lanie was going it alone, and it was rather nerve-racking. Self-doubt wasn’t like the Ice Queen, but she worried she’d aimed too high this time.

“Do you think I made a mistake going after all of them together?”

“When more and more women kept coming to you, what choice did you have? Trying them separately would have taken years.”

“Maybe I should have just stuck with Simons.”

There were eight women in all. Each one had been coerced by Walt Simons for sex either to keep from getting fired or in exchange for promises of promotion, pay raises, and other perks that had never come to pass. Most, like Lanie, had refused and been punished with unfair treatment and subjected to ongoing sexual harassment with crude jokes, a swat on the ass now and then, or threatened with termination. Some had given in, feeling they had no choice in order to keep their job. When two of the women claimed that Williams and Wolfe knew about it and did nothing to stop it, Lanie had expanded the lawsuit and named the firm and all the partners in the suit.

“What is the cardinal rule in civil cases regarding damages?” Sounding like the law professor that he was, she readily accepted Ethan’s guidance, even in lecture mode. There was a reason he was asked to speak on the national stage; he was damn good.

“Go after the deepest pockets.”

“Correct. The firm is worth tens of millions. Simons alone only a fraction of that. They are equally responsible for allowing his activities to go unchecked for as long as they did. As such, Williams and Wolfe should share equally in any and all civil penalties.”

She knew this. Had told herself over and over that this was the right course of action. But at the eleventh hour, she always felt little niggles of worry. Pretrial nerves, she supposed, like opening-night jitters or cold feet before the wedding.

It was important to her clients, who often had everything to lose, for her to present a strong, meticulous, impenetrable defense. She would have eventually talked herself out of her nerves, at least before court convened, but Ethan had a way of getting her there faster.

Certainly, he’d reiterate the points of law and the precedence she had painstakingly researched and studied. He’d point out other avenues of defense that she’d often already considered and discarded. As Ethan often reminded her, she was more than competent and had proved her skill repeatedly, but she looked forward to their discussions. He bolstered her confidence and his calm, reassuring manner put her at ease, which was often the only thing she really needed.

“I’m still amazed they let this go to trial.”

Ethan nodded in agreement then swallowed the last of his toast. “Simon’s unremitting arrogance is the reason, I’m sure.”

“From the discovery, they’re planning to trash every one of my clients. It’s a joke. They are good honest women.”

“You’ve prepared them?”

“Thoroughly, and I’ve covered all my bases. I’m certain.”

“Then you’re ready.”

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