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463 pages, ebook
First published February 4, 2012
“Your honor, it sounds like Mr. Craybill here isn’t pleased with the appointment. And, frankly, your honor, I have no experience in elder law. That, coupled with the fact that my office is nearly four hours away in Pittsburgh, leads me to regretfully decline your kind offer.”
“It’s not an offer, Ms. McCandless. It’s an order. Old Jed here’ll come around. He might even say sorry for insulting you.” The judge stared at her over his half-moon glasses.
She caught herself before a sigh escaped. “Yes, your honor.”
The games Keystone was playing around the timing of the document production seemed senseless. And, thus far, her review of the e-mails hadn’t shed any light on the issue. She’d seen nothing but e-mails that set forth the mundane minutiae of a typical commercial landlord-tenant relationship: the activation procedure for VitaMight new hires’ access badges; the after-hours heating and cooling policy; a request from the landlord that no one park under a diseased oak tree so it could be removed from the lot; an invitation to a pizza lunch Keystone had sponsored for one of the candidates for county council; the e-mails scrolled across her screen in a seemingly endless parade of irrelevant information. Whatever was there, she wasn’t seeing it.
She finished her coffee and stood looking at the computer screen. Then, she put down the mug and powered off the screen. Noah used to say when you can’t see the forest for the trees, get out of the blasted forest.
We need someone who’s not going to be cowed. Someone who isn’t tied in to the local scene. The handful of attorneys who practice up here have dozens of cases on the judge’s docket. And, you may not know this, but Judge Paulson was being threatened. That’s not to say that the threats were coming from a local lawyer, but they did relate to his docket. The attorneys who practice here have their own agendas. You have no agenda.”
Everyone has an agenda, she thought. Hers was to grow her fledgling solo practice.