Johnson, Johnson & Lambert

"Yes sir?" Ethel Youngblood's voice cut through.

"Get me Tracy or Stacy Vickers, please," Donald said.

A moment later, Ethel passed Tracy Vickers through. Trevor watched as Donald spoke into the telephone, typed on his computer, then hung up and printed out several pages.

"Okay, bring this to Ms. Hebert, oh, and I want a cell phone shot of the baby, huh?" Donald said and handed the sheaf of papers to Trevor.

"Twelve hundred..." Trevor asked.

"Until we go to trial," Donald said.

At her apartment, Clarisse was sympathetic as Stephanie angrily, tearfully relayed her termination to the neighbor.

"God is good, you don't worry, God has plan for you and Kristina," the woman said, nearly crushed Stephanie in a matronly hug, and left the apartment.

"Well young lady, we need to keep it down, huh?" Stephanie told the sleepy Kristina. "How about you use only one diaper a day, huh?"

She looked up when a knock sounded at her door. A peek through the peep hole showed Trevor standing out front of her apartment.

"Hey, I uh, I have some more papers for you to sign," Trevor said, holding up the pages.

She signed where he indicated, then looked up in surprise when she found out she'd be receiving a stipend of twelve hundred a month from Richards, Pellichet and Jones until the trial.

"Oh yeah, before I forget," Trevor said and took a quick photograph of the sleeping Kristina.

He smiled when Donald sent him a text.

"What?" Stephanie smiled.

"He said she's adorable," Trevor confirmed and snapped a photo of Stephanie, still in her Casa Ole uniform.

"And he says you're to blame," he said when a text from Donald popped up.

The next knock at Stephanie's door came the following morning. Stephanie opened the door to let a smiling, pregnant blonde woman in. Stephanie apologized that she was still in her nightgown, didn't even have coffee to offer. Tiffany just waved the apology away and sat at the small table, laying out papers.

"And here's your debit card; your account is with First Union," Tiffany Gernaud cheerfully said, placing the card on the table. "They have branches on Highway fifty two, there's also one on Johnson Lane, there's one on Chauncey Cross, and there's one in Super One Foods; you just need to activate the card, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Stephanie said, a little overwhelmed.

"The password is the last four of your social, but once you activate it, you can change it to whatever you want; can I use your bathroom?" Tiffany said, getting to her

Feet. "Ms. Dumas would kill me if she saw me use a client's bathroom, but I'm about to pop; tell her 'hold it' when she's eight and a half months pregnant huh?"

"Yeah, it's right..." Stephanie said as Tiffany scampered to the small bathroom.

"Thanks, I swear, I can't walk three feet without having to go," Tiffany smiled as she came out.

"Believe me, I know how it is," Stephanie said, pointing to Kristina. "Even thought about wearing a diaper when I was pregnant with her."

"Thanks; any questions?" Tiffany asked, already walking to the door.

"Um, why am I getting this?" Stephanie asked.

"Because Trevor Williams is your lawyer," Tiffany answered and left the apartment.

"Because Trevor Williams is my..." Stephanie mused aloud.

At the same time that Stephanie was changing Kristina's diaper, Greg St. Charles was telling his unhappy wife good-bye.

"Yeah, you better go to work," she yelled. "Three hundred dollars? Really, Greg? Three hundred dollars? On them skanky ass tramps?"

"It wasn't even two hundred dollars," Greg yelled back. And Dead End has..."

A knock sounded at the door and Greg looked to see a smiling man standing on their doorstep.

"God damn, just what we need," he muttered. "Another one of them Jehovah's Witnesses..."

"And I notice; whenever you spend money, you round it down," he yelled. "But whenever I spend any

Money? It gets rounded way the hell up."

"Women, huh?" Richard Boudreaux smiled when Greg yanked the door open. "Tried ringing the doorbell but I guess y'all didn't hear me."

"Yeah, it doesn't work," Greg admitted to the private investigator. "Help you?"

"Yeah, yeah, my wife Bernie? Spend a thousand bucks on a new mattress; old one's just fine but this one's like sleeping on a cloud, and get this," Richard laughed. "Tells me she saved us four hundred bucks because she didn't get the next model up."

"Women, huh?" Greg couldn't help but smile.

"Anyway, I'm Richard Boudreaux," Richard laughed, still thinking of his wife's antics. "You Greg St. Charles?"

"Yeah, you said you're..." Greg said.

"And you've been served," Richard said, handing Greg a manila envelope. "Have a great day; supposed to be a nice one, no rain."

Richard snapped a picture of Greg holding the envelope, face beginning to darken with anger.

"You son of a..." Greg snarled, flinging the envelope at Richard.

"Uh huh," Richard smiled, unperturbed. "Hi ma'am, we were just talking about you."

"Greg what's that?" Dianne shrilled, pointing to the envelope that sat in her flower bed in front of the

Door stoop.

Richard climbed into his Ford Taurus and drove away to his next stop.

"Dianne walked outside, uncaring that she was dressed in only short tee shirt and translucent thong panties.

She bent, nearly giving Old Man Weisberg, their next door neighbor a heart attack. She plucked the envelope up and marched inside, followed by Greg.

"Child..." Dianne screamed, sending their two cats scampering for the safety of the laundry room.

"That bitch," Greg growled. "That unbelievable little fucking bitch!"

"Oh?" Dianne snarled, fixing Greg with a steely glare. "Haven't even read it and you already know

Who..."

When Greg did show up for work at the St. Elizabeth's Public Utilities, nearly an hour late, he was sporting a nice sized fat lip.

Chapter 4

Casa Ole's insurance company did settle out of court with Robin and Claire Boudreaux. The owner of Casa Ole likewise settled on behalf of Billy Theriot, paying fifty thousand dollars to the husband and wife.

Their attorney, Parker Johnson, did look up sharply when he saw that the third defendant, Stephanie Angel Hebert, was being represented by Trevor Williams. The name meant nothing to him, until he saw that Trevor Williams was attached to Richards, Pellichet, and Jones law firm.

"Ms. Hebert has legal representation," he said to Robin Boudreaux, even though Claire was definitely the Alpha personality in the marriage.

"So?" Claire answered. "Fact that the other two have already paid goes in our favor, right?"

"Possibly," Parker agreed. "But they intend to take this to deposition, possibly even to court."

"We're only asking her for fifty thousand," Robin sneered. "Shit, just to fight it's going to cost her at least..."

"And she's filed a counter-suit, gross negligence," Parker interrupted Robin. "And Harrassment."

"Isn't that what we're suing for?" Robin asked.

While Robin and Claire were agreeing with Parker that they would not drop their lawsuit against Ms. Hebert, unless she would likewise drop her suit, Greg and Dianne St. Charles were in Brandon Johnson's office. Parker's younger brother looked at the attractive blonde, willing himself not to look down at her impressive chest as she wrote out a check to retain his services.

"Is there any possibility that you are the father of one, uh, Kristina Marie Hebert?" Brandon asked, flicking a quick look at Dianne's chest before looking at her husband.

Greg wished that Dianne had let him come alone; he had begged her to let him handle this. But she tersely reminded him of his many mistakes and short comings whenever she did allow him to handle anything and insisted that she be there.

"Okay, first off, let me get one thing straight, just for my own edification," Brandon asked. "Am I Greg's

Attorney, or am I Dianne's attorney?"

"Greg's," Dianne napped. "I'm not the one stupid enough..."

"Good, then, ma'am, if you don't mind..." Brandon stood to usher Dianne out of the office.

He did chance a look down at her breasts and nodded in approval. Her breasts were very nice, larger than a handful on a slim, cheerleader's body.

"But I'm the one paying," Dianne angrily retorted.

"Again, if I'm your attorney, then Mr. St. Charles will be asked to leave," Brandon said.

"Don't do anything stupid," Dianne warned her husband as she flounced out of the office.

"Now, again, Mr. St. Charles, is there any possibility that you are the father of Ms. Hebert's baby?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah, been fucking her for a couple of years now," Greg admitted.

"When was the first time you had relations with Ms. Hebert?" Brandon asked.

Without Dianne in the office, Greg was able to talk freely. He even showed Brandon a few of the

Photographs he'd saved on his cell phone. Brandon nodded in approval; Stephanie Hebert did a nasty girl. Not the kind of girl one married, though.

In the reception area, Cindy St. George seethed. She wanted a cigarette, but as long as the insufferable bitch Dianne St. Charles sat and angrily drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, Cindy couldn't leave the reception area.

"Cindy?" Brandon's voice popped in Cindy's ear.

"Yes sir?" Cindy said into the headpiece.

"Please send Mrs. St. Charles to my office," Brandon asked.

"Finally!" Cindy thought as she removed the headset. "Mrs. St. Charles? Mr. Johnson has asked that you return to his office?"

Dianne didn't thank the girl, just marched down the hallway. Cindy grabbed her purse and dashed out the side door.

"One of these days, I need to quit," Cindy thought and sighed gratefully as the smoke filled her lungs.

In Brandon's office, Dianne glared hatefully at her husband as Brandon lay out the plan of action.

"Of course, first, we do need to establish paternity," Brandon said.

"So you did fuck her?" Dianne growled at her husband.

"Yeah, I already told you I did; I mean, shit, I was all kind of fucked up, but..." Greg said, sticking to the lie he'd told her.

"And fucked her without a condom?" Dianne shrilled.

"Well, yeah, I mean, I was all kind of wasted; didn't think about..." Greg whined.

"So I could be running around with whatever that little whore's got?" Dianne screamed and gave Greg another fat lip.

As much as Brandon enjoyed seeing the pathetic Greg St. Charles getting his ass handed to him by his wife, he still had to stop the fracas.

Cindy St. George got a paper towel and an ice cube for Mr. St. Charles' lip. The man wrinkled his nose at the offensive smell of cigarettes, but mumbled his thanks.

"Thank you, Cindy," Brandon said.

Cindy did not answer; she wanted to tell Brandon that his office was much closer to the lunch room than her desk was. She wanted to tell him he was getting quite a paunch because he was too damned lazy to walk the few feet to get an ice cube. She wanted to tell him no one was fooled by his comb-over. She wanted to tell him she was grossly underpaid and certainly grossly underappreciated.

But because Cindy St. George had two prior arrests for possession of cocaine, she knew she was damned lucky to have this job and would be hard pressed to find another one that paid her seventeen dollars an hour.

So, instead, she let the door to his office close, then gave him the finger through the closed door before returning to her desk.

"I saw that," Frances DeSalvo tittered and Cindy flushed hotly, but smiled at the attorney.

While Frances was entering Parker's office; Parker had asked her to come sit in on his meeting with Robin and Claire Boudreaux, Donald Pellichet, Jay Richards, and Penny Jones were having their monthly informal board meeting.

"And that brings us to Mr. Williams," Donald said.

"A smart young man," Penny agreed.

"Yes he is; graduated third from the top in his class," Donald confirmed. "But that smart young man has dragged us, kicking and screaming, into a case that's probably going to tie us up for months."

"Kicking and..." Penny snorted, shaking her head.

"That the young girl with the baby?" Jay asked.

"Yeah; she's a cutie," Donald agreed.

"Okay, you're bringing this up for a reason," Jay said, regarding his old friend and business partner with his one good eye.

"I'm proposing we give Mr. Williams our backing, let him use our resources, but for the most part, we stay out of it and see how he does," Donald proposed.

"Any possibility they'll drop it?" Penny asked.

"There's every possibility; their attorney is Parker Johnson of Johnson, Johnson and Lambert," Donald said. "They'll drop it, but we won't and I've already told Trevor that."

"Settlement?" Jay asked.

"Anything less than two fifty, we proceed," Donald said. "But again, we give Trevor everything he asks for, but, and this is a big 'but.' We make him ask for it. He doesn't ask for it, he doesn't get it."

"And after...?" Penny pressed.

"Then he becomes a junior partner," Donald said, coolly regarding his partners.

"Agreed," Penny said.

"Seconded," Jay agreed.

Trevor Williams was waiting for Donald when Donald entered his office.

"Frances DeSalvo of Johnson, Johnson and Lambert just called; deposition starts next Thursday," he announced.

"Francis? Who's he?" Donald asked.

"She. She's with Johnson, Johnson and Lambert," Trevor responded.

"She's the primary on the Bou..." Donald asked.

"No, Parker Johnson is the primary," Trevor said.

"And of course, he's far too important to call us himself. But let me guess; they want the deposition to be held at their office," Donald guessed.

"Correct, and has already filed for a mediator," Trevor smiled.

"Remember, anything less than two hundred and fifty thousand? Tell them to have a nice day," Donald said.

By now, Stephanie recognized Trevor's phone number and smiled when she answered his call.

Trevor told her how they were proceeding with two of the three cases, then assured her that she could use the debit card to pay her rent and her utilities.

"And, yes, definitely groceries; that is money for you to live on until we go to trial," Trevor assured Stephanie.

While Stephanie was hurrying down the stairs of her apartment, Kristina in her car seat, Richard Boudreaux was standing in line at Casa Ole, his wife Bernadette standing next to him. Bernie's sister, Beatrice agreed to babysit; she adored her two nieces, Kimberly and Margaret, would refuse the ten dollars Bernie would insist she accept.

"Just ahead of them, Bobby and Valerie Elswell playfully bickered with each other, a typical brother and sister.

"Hi, welcome to Casa... oh, table for two?" the hostess sneered at the Elswell siblings.

"Wow, what a warm reception," Bobby smirked.

"Hi, two please?" Richard smiled when the hostess returned from seating Bobby and Valerie.

"Those two are so head over heels in love," Valerie noted as she watched Richard and Bernie talking with each other.

"Disgusting," Bobby teased. "Want me to make them move?"

Bernie and Richard shared each other's food, linked fingers, and just enjoyed being with each other for a brief few moments without a three year old and one year old demanding their attention.

"Well, as much fun as this is, I do have to work," Richard finally said as their waitress approached, check in hand.

"Hi, is Billy, the manager around?" Richard asked as the girl put their check on the table.

"Uh, is there a problem?" the girl asked, concerned.

"Huh? Oh, no, no, the service was excellent," Richard assured her.

He put a twenty and a ten on the check and told the girl to keep the change.

"Oh, thank you," the girl said, pleased with the seven dollar tip.

"Richard, money doesn't grow on trees," Bernie hissed when the girl scampered off to get Billy.

"And Richards, Pellichet and Jones paid for our lunch," Richard said, pocketing the receipt.

"Yes sir," Billy said, smiling uncertainly.

"Hi, you're Billy? Billy Theriot?" Richard asked. "The manager of this place?"

"Yes sir," Billy agreed.

"Hi, I'm Richard and this is my wife, Bernie; she really liked your shrimp Tostada; I thought it was okay, but my steak fajita was pretty good," Richard said.

"Oh, well uh, thank you," Billy said, nodding to Bernie.

"Denise was our server; she did her job very well," Bernie said, getting to her feet.

"And, you've been served; have a nice day, you ready Sweetheart?" Richard said, handing Billy a manila envelope and snapping the man's picture with his digital camera.

"Thanks again; the shrimp Tostada was real good," Bernie said as Billy stood, mouth open in surprise.

"Hi, I'm Valerie Elswell," Valerie said, following Richard and Bernie out in the parking lot. "I'm the Editor In Chief of Parasols magazine..."

"No, absolutely not," Richard said forcefully. "I don't care what it pays, you are not taking pictures of my wife."

Valerie looked at the ugly little woman, with her unkempt afro of carrot orange curls, bulb of a nose, and receding chin. She smiled widely, then turned back to Richard.

"No, no, as much as I'd love to have her pose for us, I just, well, I sat through my whole lunch and just watched you two. You're in love and it's so obvious," Valerie smiled. "I thought maybe I'd have you two come in, sit down and give me an interview?"

"Of course we're in love," Richard said proudly. "Look at her! Can you believe a woman like that would be seen with me?"

"Look at him," Bernie echoed. "My God! He's gorgeous, and he's a hero; he's a U.S. Marine and did a tour of duty in Iraq and..."

"And on top of that?" Richard said. "This gorgeous woman has given me not one, but two beautiful little red heads. I know, she doesn't look like it, but she is a mommy."

"Doesn't look like... Have you seen my butt? It's huge!" Bernie argued.

"Yes I have seen your butt, and as soon as we can get rid of Bea, I want to see it again," Richard replied.

"Here, here's my card," Valerie smiled as the husband and wife playfully bantered with each other. "I'd really love to talk with you two."

Billy was not aware of the tableau playing out in his parking lot; he was reading through the contents of the envelope.

"It's a 'Right to Work' state; you can't sue of for wrongful termination," he muttered to himself.

He did not remember writing out the note for Stephanie. He even thought briefly of withholding her last paycheck, out of spite.

Chapter 5

Parker Johnson glared with white hot rage as Stacy and Tracy Vickers of Vickers, Vickers & Dumas entered, followed by Rebecca Montoyez and then Ben Scholtz entered the conference room, pushing a dolly laden with audio-video equipment. Finally, Stephanie Hebert entered, followed by Trevor Williams.

"What is all of..." Parker demanded.

"Now, Mr. Johnson, I know this is not your first deposition," Trevor said. "We're here for the Deposition in the matter of..."

"I know why we're here," Parker yelled, his rage spilling over. "And what was the purpose of sending over eighty seven files at the last minute?"

"Last minute?" Trevor asked, taking a seat. "My courier assured me they were delivered on or before five p.m. yesterday. The deposition is scheduled for three p.m. today. Last minute?"

"Eighty seven..." Parker snarled, face glowing.

"Please tell me you did read them," Trevor asked, almost smiling at the enraged Parker Johnson. "They're all pertinent to questions we intend to ask during the deposition. Ben, are you ready over there?"

Ben did a final adjustment of the cameras' tripods and nodded in the affirmative.

"Let me just do a real quick white balance, Rebecca, you mind holding up this sheet of paper?" Ben said.

Robin and Claire looked at each other. Obviously, the lowly waitress had somehow found some big guns and intended to use them.

"You called for this, please proceed," Trevor said when Ben nodded.