Gray Mountain: A Novel(53)

Samantha absorbed it all and managed to hide her shock. How, exactly, do you live in a car? She began taking notes without the slightest idea of what to do on the legal front.

Pamela pulled out paperwork from her fake designer bag and slid the pile across the table. Samantha scanned a court order while her new client explained she was down to her last two dollars, and she didn’t know whether to spend them on gas or food. She finally took a cookie and held it with shaking hands. Two things dawned on Samantha. The first was that she was the last line of defense for this little family. The second was that they were not leaving anytime soon. There was nowhere to go.

When Barb finally arrived, Samantha gave her $20 and asked her to hurry and buy as many sausage biscuits as possible. Barb said, “We keep a few bucks around the office.”

Samantha replied, “We’ll need it.”

Phoebe Fanning was still hiding from her husband in a motel, courtesy of the clinic, and Samantha was aware that Mattie kept a few bucks on reserve for emergencies like this. After Barb left, Samantha looked through a back window at the parking lot. Pamela’s car, even filled with gas and all other necessary fluids, looked as though it wouldn’t make it back to Hopper County. It was a small import with a million miles on it, and now it was being used as a home.

The cookies and saltines were gone when she returned to the conference room. She told Pamela she had sent out for some food, and this made her cry. The boy, Trevor, age seven, said, “Thank you, Miss Kofer.” The girl, Mandy, age eleven, asked, “Could I please use the bathroom?”

“Certainly,” Samantha said. She showed her the way down the hall and sat down at the table to take more notes. They started at the beginning and went slowly through the story. The credit card judgment was dated July 1999 and had a balance of $3,398, which included all manner of court costs, obscure fees, even some interest thrown in for good measure. Pamela explained that her ex-husband had been ordered to satisfy the judgment in their divorce decree, a copy of which was in the paperwork. Nine years had passed without a word, at least nothing she was aware of. She had moved several times and perhaps the mail had not kept up. Who knew? At any rate, the collection agency had found her and started all this trouble.

Samantha noted that Trevor, at seven, had been born after the divorce, but this was not worth mentioning. There were several court orders holding the ex-husband in contempt for failure to pay child support for Mandy. “Where is he?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Pamela said. “I haven’t heard from him in years.”

Barb returned with a sack of sausage biscuits and spread the feast on the table. She rubbed Trevor’s head and told Mandy how happy she was they had come to visit. All three Bookers offered polite thanks, then ate like refugees. Samantha closed the door and huddled with Barb in the reception area. “What’s the deal?” Barb asked, and Samantha gave her the basics.

Barb, who thought she’d seen it all, was puzzled, but never timid. “I’d start with the boss. Give him a load of hell, threaten to sue for triple damages, then go after the collection company.” The phone was ringing and she reached to answer it, leaving Samantha, the lawyer, alone in her confusion.

A load of hell? Triple damages? For what, exactly? And this advice was from a nonlawyer. Samantha thought about stalling until either Mattie or Annette returned, but she had been there for a week and orientation was over. She went to her office, closed the door, and nervously punched the number at the lamp factory. A Mr. Simmons was pleasantly surprised to learn that Pamela Booker had herself a lawyer. He said she was a good worker, he hated to lose her and all that, but damned those garnishment orders. It just made his bookkeeping a nightmare. He had already filled her spot, and he’d made sure the new employee had no legal problems.

Well, you might have some more legal problems, Samantha explained coolly. Bluffing, and not sure of the law, she explained that a company cannot fire an employee simply because his or her wages are being garnished. This irritated Mr. Simmons and he mumbled something about his lawyer. Great, Samantha said, give me her number and I’ll pursue the matter with her. Wasn’t a woman, he said, and the guy charged two hundred bucks an hour anyway. Give him some time to think about it. Samantha promised to call back that afternoon, and they eventually agreed that 3:00 p.m. would be convenient.

When she returned to the conference room, Barb had found a box of crayons and some coloring books and was busy organizing fun and games for Trevor and Mandy. Pamela was still holding half a sausage biscuit and staring at the floor, as if in a trance. When Annette finally arrived, Samantha met her in the hallway and, whispering, unloaded the details. Annette was still a bit aloof and bothered by something, but business was business. “The judgment expired years ago,” was her first reaction. “Check the law on this. I’ll bet the credit card company sold the judgment to the collection company for pennies on the dollar, and now it’s enforcing an outdated court order.”

“You’ve seen this before?”

“Something similar, a long time ago. Can’t remember the case name. Do the research, then contact the collection agency. These are generally some nasty characters and they don’t scare easily.”

“Can we sue them?”

“We can certainly threaten. They are not accustomed to people like this suddenly showing up with a lawyer. Call the boss and burn his ass too.”