Sunset Beach(27)

Wendy let out a long, martyred sigh. “Ms. Howington, we’ve been over this before. Brice and I and everybody here at the firm are deeply sorry for your loss. Truly, we are. And as Brice told you himself, he did everything he could to hold the hotel responsible for what happened to Jazmin. He had hoped to be able to prove wrongful death, which would have resulted in a much larger settlement from the hotel’s insurer. But the fact is, because the incident happened while she was on duty, it became a worker’s compensation claim. And worker’s comp claims in Florida are, by law, capped at a hundred and fifty thousand, which was the amount of your settlement, before legal fees.”

Yvonne Howington struggled to her feet. “No, ma’am,” she said, her voice hoarse with anger. “Like I told you and anybody who would listen, Jazmin got off work at eleven o’clock that night. She didn’t never work later than that, because I had to get to work, myself, in the morning.”

“That’s not what her supervisor said,” Wendy replied. “He said she got to work almost one hour late that day, and then begged him to give her an extra shift to make up the time. Our investigator saw her time card, which verifies that account. And we looked at the security videos, which showed Jazmin, in her housekeeping uniform, after her shift should have ended at eleven, entering a room on the first floor with her passkey, then leaving the room around one-thirty.”

“Those hotel people lie like rugs,” Yvonne said. “All of ’em ain’t nothing but a pack of liars. And criminals.” She started to say something further, then stopped.

“Aliyah, there’s a water fountain out there in the hallway. Why don’t you go get a drink, and then go in the bathroom. Can you do that by yourself?”

She leaned down and her voice softened. “Make sure you wash your hands after, and don’t you talk to nobody. You just go in that bathroom and do your business and come right back here.”

Wendy hesitated, then took a plastic card from the lanyard she wore around her neck. “Here. This is the key to our private bathroom. You hold that up to the round pad on the door, and the light will flash green, and it’ll unlock and let you in. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Aliyah said.

“You mean ‘yes, ma’am,’” Yvonne put in.

Yvonne walked to the door, held it open and watched as the girl scampered out to the hallway.

Then she turned to Wendy and Drue. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Aliyah, but there was bad stuff going on at that hotel. One of the bosses, he was always coming around, Jazmin said, grabbing at her and touching her. She never said his name, just that he was a married white man, and he was old enough to be her daddy!”

“You told us that before, but the investigator couldn’t find anybody who could corroborate that,” Wendy said. “So it was her word against hotel management.”

Yvonne’s dark eyes flashed angrily. “And everybody knows a white man’s word is always worth more than what some trashy little colored girl says, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Wendy said. “I don’t think that way. Neither does Brice.”

The office door opened and Brice Campbell strode inside, his briefcase tucked under one arm. His face was sunburned, and he was dressed in jeans and an untucked dress shirt.

“What’s going on?” He looked from Wendy to Drue, and started to say something else, but stopped when he caught sight of Yvonne Howington. He wrinkled his brow, clearly trying to place the face.

“Oh hi … uh, Ms.…”

“Yvonne Howington,” the client said, looking him up and down. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“I know your face,” he said, untroubled by her glare. “Wrongful death suit. Your daughter, isn’t that right? One of the beach hotels?”

Yvonne Howington’s clenched fists rested on her hips. “Her name was Jazmin. Jazmin Mayes. It shoulda been a wrongful death suit. Would have been, but nobody cares about another dead black girl.”

Brice looked stricken. “The Gulf Vista. Of course.” He glanced at Wendy. “You explained to Ms. Howington about the worker’s comp statutory limits?”

“I tried,” Wendy said.

Brice touched Yvonne’s elbow. “I’m sorry. The matter is out of my hands. The hotel can prove that your daughter was on the clock when she was killed. The law says—”

She shook him off. “Don’t you tell me what the law says,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I know what’s going on here. You took some kind of payoff from the insurance company, didn’t you? What’d they pay you?”

Wendy bristled. “Now just a minute. You can’t come in here and accuse my husband of unethical behavior.”

“Oh, he’s your husband? That explains a whole lot,” Yvonne shot back. “All of y’all are just a bunch of thieves. But let me tell you, you haven’t heard the last from me. I’mma get me another lawyer.”

“You do that,” Wendy said.

Drue saw the door open a crack. Aliyah pressed her face to the opening, her dark eyes wide at the grown-up argument winding down inside. She opened the door and crept silently back into the office, picking up a marker and returning to her art project.

Brice waved a hand. “All right, let’s all just cool down now. Ms. Howington, I’m sorry you think you weren’t properly represented. You’re of course free to retain any attorney you like. And as you know, our fee structure was explained to you from the outset. You signed a document to that effect.”