Miz Sarah Enlists a New Assistant

"You leave that to us," I told her. I turned to my wide-eyed assistant. "Marcy, I'm going to have to leave shortly to go to my appointment with General Marshall's attorney. I need you to stay with Marilyn and handle these calls for her."

"But what do I say, Miz Sarah?" Marcy asked uneasily.

"You can confirm that Mrs. Marshall has received a copy of the divorce petition that her husband filed, since that is public knowledge. You can also tell them that she has asked me to serve as counsel to her in this matter and that I've advised her to have no comment because we prefer to handle this through the legal system. If someone identifies themself as a friend or relative, just take their name and number and let them know Marilyn will try to get back to them later."

"But what if they won't accept that?" Marcy asked anxiously. "What if they won't take no for an answer?"

She was understandably nervous; I knew this was something she had never done before. I pressed her hand in mine and said in a low voice, "You've been under fire in Afghanistan, Marcy. If you could face that, I know you can do this."

With that she straightened her shoulders and got a determined look on her face. I knew then that she'd be alright.

I turned to Marilyn, who had stopped her weeping to listen to the two of us. "Marilyn, I want you to relax and put your mind at ease. I have complete confidence in Marcy; she'll take care of all those nosy people till we can find out more about what's really going on."

"Thank you, Miz Sarah," Marilyn replied. Then she turned to Marcy. "And thank you, Miz Marcy. I feel so much better knowing you'll be here with me."

I could tell that Marcy was still nervous about her new assignment, but I also saw that she was touched by Marilyn's obvious sincerity. "Don't worry about a thing," she said bravely. "I'll hold down the fort until Miz Sarah returns."

I like to see a young woman with some spunk.

It was time for me to leave for my appointment at Mason, Towson and Donovan. Their offices were in midtown Atlanta, so I reluctantly drove across to busy I-75 and headed south. Fortunately, traffic was a bit lighter than usual, so I was able to pull into the parking garage and make my way to the elevator a few minutes before my scheduled appointment. I hate to be late.

When I got to their floor, a pretty young woman met me in the lobby and escorted me back to Forrest Howell's office. He arose from his desk when I entered and cordially shook my hand. When we were both seated, he said, "Well, Mrs. Cannon, it's so nice to meet you at last; I've heard so much about you. Now, remind me please, which firm are you with?"

I smiled. "No firm, Mr. Howell, it's just me."

I could tell he was embarrassed, but he did his best to recover. "Of course, of course, I'd forgotten."

I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "He's decided this is going to be an easy one," I thought.

Before we got started, I thought I'd engage him in a little polite conversation to see if I could get his measure a little better. It's always good to know with whom you're dealing. "So tell me Mr. Howell, why has a prominent New York law firm like Mason, Towson and Donovan decided to open an office in Atlanta?"

"Oh, we've had our eye on your fair city for quite some time now," he replied, "but we decided to let some of our competitors test out the waters before making our move. Now we think the city is ready and the time is right," he said rather grandly.

"That sounds like just the kind of thing a public relations firm would write," I thought. Of course I knew what it really meant: MT&D had missed the boat and were now scrambling to catch up.

"And now that you're here, how do you find Atlanta, Mr. Howell," I asked.

"It's lovely, of course, Mrs. Cannon," he replied magnanimously. "The weather is great, especially compared to winters in New York, housing prices are so much more reasonable, and the people are warm and friendly. I just love listening to that slow Southern drawl."

I smiled and nodded. It's been my experience that people from outside the South associate slower speech with slower wits. I'd used that mistake to my advantage before.

"Well, we're delighted to have such a distinguished law office in our midst," I assured him. "I am, however, a bit surprised that your firm would be active in the practice of family law. I would have thought you would focus on the corporate arena instead."

"You're right, of course, Mrs. Cannon; corporate law is our specialty. However, when a person as prominent as General Marshall seeks our assistance, we felt obligated to respond," he explained.

It didn't take an interpreter for me to understand what he was saying. MT&D was hoping that a high society divorce case would help raise their profile and bring in new clients from among the movers and shakers in the city. And to make sure those movers and shakers heard about the case, I figured it was very likely that MT&D had been the ones who'd leaked the news to the local gossip mongers, though I knew they would never admit to such a thing. "Not a very ethical way to act," I thought, "but this wouldn't be the first time a law firm seeking publicity had stooped to using a publicist."

"And," I reminded myself, "I'll bet they're expecting to charge some big legal fees, especially since I'm sure they expect it will be Marilyn who will be forced to pay their bill."

"Well, Mr. Howell, as pleasant as this all is, I suppose we should get down to the case in hand. I must admit that I was surprised to see the divorce petition contained an allegation of infidelity," I said.

"Oh, it's not an allegation, Mrs. Cannon," Howell replied smoothly. "We have an eyewitness to Mrs. Marshall's indiscretion!"

"An eyewitness!" I exclaimed in surprise. "I can hardly believe that!"

"I'm afraid it's so," Howell said, rubbing his hands together in enjoyment. "We have a sworn affidavit to that effect. Would you like to have a copy?"

"I certainly would," I snapped.

He had obviously been expecting this request because he reached into the top drawer of his desk and produced a copy, which he handed to me.

I quickly scanned the document. The gist of the claim was that Marilyn had slipped away during a party being held in Macon. When the affiant had gone to check on Marilyn, she discovered her in flagrante delicto in a bedroom at the far end of the house.

All of that was shocking enough. But what really stunned me was the signature at the end of the affidavit: Emma Wolfolk, Marilyn Hart's best friend!

Howell obviously felt he held the advantage so he pressed on. "Given the evidence, Mrs. Cannon, we believe that it would be in your client's best interests not to have this matter go to trial. The prenuptial agreement, which I believe you yourself drew up, provides an unambiguous formula for the division of assets in case of just such an eventuality as this. If your client will agree to abide by that agreement, I believe we can settle this whole unpleasantness quickly and without any further gossip such as was making the rounds this morning."

I slumped in my chair. While I certainly didn't appreciate the implied threat in his last statement, I had no ready comeback in the face of this shocking development. After reflecting for a moment, I sat up straight and prepared to leave. "Thank you, Mr. Howell. You've given me a great deal to think about. I will, of course, have to take this information back to Mrs. Marshall and discuss how she wishes to proceed. I expect you'll be hearing from me shortly."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cannon," he said unctuously, no doubt sensing victory within his grasp. "It's been a real pleasure to meet you."

"I'll bet it has," I thought to myself.

As I pulled into the service entrance at the back of Marilyn Hart's home, I wasn't looking forward to the confrontation that was coming. Marcy let me in, and started to ask how the meeting had gone. I put her questions aside for the moment and asked her how things had been since I'd been gone.

"It's a good thing I was here, Miz Sarah," Marcy exclaimed. "The phone rang almost non-stop." She held up several sheets of paper, and I was interested to see that every call was annotated as to time, duration, caller, subject matter and callback number. "Well, well, I see the army hasn't worn off of you quite yet," I teased her.

Just then, Marilyn came into the room. "Don't you give Marcy a hard time, Miz Sarah," she said vigorously. "She was wonderful. She handled all those callers like a pro, and I could tell that some of them were pretty obnoxious. Someone even came to the door pretending to be a delivery man. Marcy wouldn't take any nonsense off of him, and shooed him away."

As Marcy looked down modestly, I was impressed by Marilyn's praise. My ex-army assistant appeared to have made a positive impression.

But then I remembered what I had to do next, and my mood darkened. I encouraged them to be seated. This was going to be hard, and there was no virtue in putting it off any longer.

"Marilyn, my meeting with Forrest Howell did not go well. Their office has some pretty convincing proof that you did indeed violate your wedding vows when you were in Macon."

Marcy gasped, and Marilyn began to protest. "That's not true; I did no such thing. How can there be any proof when I didn't do anything?"

"Marilyn," I said sternly, "did you go to a party at your sister's house while you were in Macon?"

"Of course," she replied, "I already told you that."

"And during the course of the party," I continued, "did you go upstairs to one of the bedrooms?"

She thought about it for a moment and then responded, "Yes, I remember now, I was feeling a little tired and I slipped off to lie down for a few minutes."

"And while you were in that bedroom, did you have any form of romantic or sexual contact with a man?"

"Absolutely not!" Marilyn protested vigorously. "I catnapped for a little while. Then, when I woke up, I went in the restroom, freshened my face, and then went back downstairs to rejoin the party. There was no one with me the whole time I was up there, and certainly not another man!"

"I'm afraid that's not what this sworn affidavit says. According to this, you had intercourse with a man while you were in that bedroom."

"What man?" she shrieked. "There was no man there, there was no one at all. Who does it say I was with?"

"The eyewitness was unable to identify the man in the darkened room," I said, "but you were identified by your clothes and the rings on your hand."

Marilyn was almost beside herself. "That's impossible. There was no one else there; I didn't do any such thing. Who is telling these lies about me?"

"The affidavit was dictated by and sworn to as the truth by Emma Wolfolk," I told her sadly.

Marilyn looked as though someone had slapped her across the face. Her eyes darted about in confusion and her lips moved but failed to form words. Finally, she collapsed on the sofa in a fresh gale of tears. "Why would she do that? Why would Emma lie about me? Why, why?"

Both Marcy and I were concerned for her; she seemed in such a state. We helped her back to her bedroom and, after persuading her to lie down, we pulled a comforter over her. With the day she'd had, I knew that she was both physically and emotionally exhausted.

"Try to get some rest, Marilyn," I said. "Marcy and I will check on you tomorrow. And we'll get to work to figure out how best to handle all this."

As we left her darkened room, she was already falling asleep.

I told Marcy, "I don't think it's a good idea for Marilyn to be alone right now. I'd like you to stay with her for the next few days until all the foofaraw dies down.

Driving back to Virginia Highland, where my office is located, I was curious to hear what Marcy thought about our client now. "The other day," I started, "you seemed to think it likely that Marilyn had cheated. Do you still feel that way now?"

"No I don't, Miz Sarah," she replied so vehemently that I was startled.

"Whatever made you change your mind?" I asked.

"Being in the Army taught me that you can learn a lot about people when you see them under stress," she said. "Today was a very stressful day for Marilyn, yet she was always gracious and polite to me. She fixed me some lunch and brought it to me when I was tied up on the phones, and she took the time to ask me about myself and my background when the phone wasn't ringing.

"I guess what I'm saying is that despite being upset and harassed, she treated me like a person, not an employee. It's hard for me to believe that someone who is that nice to a virtual stranger under difficult circumstances could also be selfish and disrespectful to her husband," she finished.

I was pleased by what Marcy had said because I thought her response was insightful. "For what it's worth," I told her, "I agree with you. But what matters is what the court determines, and right now the weight of evidence lies against Marilyn Hart. So you and I are going to have to start digging and see if we can't unearth anything that will help her case."

"Where do we start, Miz Sarah?"

"I'd say the obvious place would be with the three principals in our little drama: the General, Marilyn, and Emma Wolfolk. Why don't you see what you can find out about each of them?"

"I'll take my laptop with me and work on it at Marilyn's house when I'm not handling callers," she promised.

The next week was a busy one for us. The good news was that after a day or two the spotlight shifted away from Marilyn and her alleged affair. The crowd outside Marilyn's home disappeared and there were no more juicy tidbits from the gossip mongers. Marcy was encouraged by this development, but I warned her that it meant only that the General's law firm had called off the dogs temporarily, hoping for a quick settlement with us. "It could start again at any time if they think we're stalling," I cautioned her.

The other good news was that Marilyn's sister made arrangements to come up from Macon to stay with her. Marilyn was still in seclusion, and I felt that having family with her would help keep her spirits up.

The bad news was that we weren't making any headway in our efforts to undo Emma Wolfolk's damaging testimony. With Marilyn's sister's help, we contacted many of the guests who had attended the fateful party in Macon, but none of them could shed any further light on the events of the evening. Most of the people we spoke to had not even been aware that Marilyn had disappeared for a while. None of them knew of any old boyfriend with whom she might have had contact.

We also developed a list of potential character witnesses, but despite their eagerness to attest to Marilyn's good reputation, I held little hope for such efforts. Her behavior in the past would be unlikely to sway the court in the face of eyewitness testimony to the contrary.

Marcy was deep into some online research one day, and I had just hung up the phone when Lucius Rayford unexpectedly arrived at our office. He was not in the habit of visiting unannounced, so even though I was busy, I thought it best to take a few minutes to speak with him. I invited Marcy to join us, but she begged off, saying she was right in the middle of something important and didn't want to lose her train of thought.

Lucius didn't stay long, but his visit left me with plenty to think about. In fact, I was still seated in my side chair when Marcy came bounding into my office.

"Miz Sarah, I think you'd better come see this," she said urgently, tugging on my arm. I followed her into her office, and she had me take her seat in front of the computer screen. I looked at the information displayed there, but couldn't see the significance.

"What am I supposed to be looking for, dear?" I asked her.

"It's not so much what you see as what you don't see," she replied rather cryptically.

Marcy began pointing at the columns of information and explaining what they represented. Then she pulled up several other windows with additional data.

"Do you see what I mean, Miz Sarah?" she said.

"Indeed I do, Marcy, indeed I do."

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"First, I need to make a couple of phone calls. And you need to call Marilyn and find out when it would be convenient for her to meet with her husband."

Marcy just smiled.

The next day I called Forrest Howell at Mason, Towson and Donovan. "We're ready to meet with you to discuss a settlement," I told him.

"Excellent," he replied almost gleefully. "Why don't we meet here again? I expect our offices are more capacious than yours."

I was unperturbed by his little shot. I figured that my agreeing would make Howell more amenable to what I had to say next. "That will be fine, Mr. Howell, as long as all the principals are present. Mrs. Marshall, of course, will come with us, and you should have both General Marshall and Emma Wolfolk in attendance."

"Emma Wolfolk? She's not a party to the settlement. Why does she have to be there?" he sputtered.

"We've seen nothing but Ms. Wolfolk's affidavit. My client feels she has a right to confront her accuser in person."

"Just a minute," Howell shot back, "this is supposed to be a meeting about a settlement, not a confrontation."

"Oh, don't worry," I told him, "I can assure you that my client will hold her peace. But I can also assure you that there will be no meeting and no settlement if my client is denied the right to see her accusers. She is adamant. We can do that now and get all this over with, or we can wait until the hearing date, whenever that may be."

Howell saw his opportunity for a quick resolution slipping away, and he scrambled to redeem the situation. "Now, now, I didn't say they wouldn't be there, just that this is highly irregular. However, if your client is in fact ready to resolve this matter, we'll be sure to have all the parties present."

"I assure you," I said thinly, "we'll have a resolution before the meeting is over."

It was a week before we were able to arrange a suitable time to meet, and Marcy and I had not shared our strategy with Marilyn. "There are too many opportunities for something to go wrong, Marcy," I told her. "Let's keep our cards close to the vest."

As a result, Marilyn was quite apprehensive as we drove to the MT&D offices. She'd arranged for a car so none of us would have to drive, and as we sat together in the passenger compartment, she fidgeted nervously. Despite what I had said to Forest Howell, Marilyn clearly was not looking forward to facing her husband and former friend.

To my surprise, Marcy reached over and took her hand. "Don't you worry, Marilyn. Miz Sarah has everything under control. Everything's going to be OK."

Marilyn smiled weakly and sat back in her seat, but she kept hold of Marcy's hand.

"Those two have become pretty close since all this started," I noted approvingly.

When the elevator deposited us at the MT&D offices, we were led into a large area decorated more like a living room than the conference room of a law office. No sooner were we seated than Forest Howell joined us.

"I hope this is acceptable, Mrs. Cannon. I thought an area like this would be less confrontational," he said with a smile.

I merely nodded. I could tell that he was feeling very confident; that suited me just fine.

In another minute, the door opened again and in walked General Marshall and Emma Wolfolk. The General was wearing his uniform and all his medals. I guess he wanted to impress us.

This was the first time I had met Ms. Wolfolk. She was slim and attractive, apparently a few years younger than Marilyn Hart. As she entered, she studiously avoided Marilyn's eyes. I could understand that.

"Well," Howell began, "as you can see, we're all here as agreed, so I think we should begin to discuss the terms of the settlement."