Miz Sara Faces a Tough Opponent

He sat up and tried to pull himself together. "But I didn't mean to burden you with my problems, Miz Sara. I really do love working with you and Cindy."

"David," I said, "I hate it that your marriage is going through such a rough patch. If there's anything I can do, or if you just want to talk about what's going on at any time, I promise you it's no burden."

He thanked me and slowly headed out the door to his car.

I was genuinely distressed about David's situation, but there was nothing I could do but offer him friendship and understanding.

I didn't have time to think any further about David just then because the next day was my appointment with Rosa Brindisi to discuss the Mallinsons' case. I needed to review their latest proposal and decide on my strategy.

At the appointed time the next day, I got in my car and drove up to Buckhead, where Rosa had her law office. Many years ago, Buckhead was a beautiful suburb of Atlanta. While there are still gracious homes and tree-filled yards in the northern sections, Buckhead's core has become a major business district filled with shopping malls and shiny glass-covered office towers. Rosa's office was in one of those high-rises. At least it had inside parking so my car wouldn't get too hot while I went to my appointment.

When I got to her floor, I was quickly ushered into Rosa's office. She was talking on the phone when I entered; she muffled the handset, and said, "This will just take a minute," and went back to her conversation. While she talked, I took the opportunity to look her over. She had her long black hair up in a bun, and was wearing one of her signature red dresses. Today's model looked to be the color of marinara sauce.

I was amused to watch her talking. She used her hands so much to carry on her conversation it's a wonder she didn't drop the phone.

When she finally finished her call, she hung up and said, "Sorry, dear, that took longer than I expected. I hope you don't mind meeting here; I thought it would be easier for us."

I figured Rosa wanted the meeting to be held in her office so she could have the advantage of talking from behind her imposing wooden desk. Rosa is a large woman, but rather short. I could see that both her chair and desk were elevated to enable her to look down on her guests. It didn't bother me.

She quickly shifted into negotiating mode, pulling out a fresh copy of the most recent proposal she and Herman had made to Betty. "My client feels that since Mrs. Mallinson will be able to continue to enjoy the benefits of living in their home while my client will not, it is only fair that she pay my client a reasonable monthly rent until such time as the house can be sold and the proceeds divided," Rosa essayed.

"I would only note," I replied mildly, "that Mr. Mallinson is not enjoying the benefits of living in their home because he was the one who made the decision to depart and take up residence elsewhere."

I could see Rosa had anticipated that objection and had her rebuttal prepared, so I quickly continued, "Nevertheless, Mrs. Mallinson is perfectly willing to accept your client's proposal."

My unexpected acquiescence so surprised Rosa that the air whooshed from her lungs like a bellows. Clearly, she had not expected such a response and she wasn't prepared for a change in direction. As she struggled to regroup, I pressed my advantage.

"However," I said, "if my client is to become a tenant in her own home, we think it is only fair that her new landlord should pay for the expense of maintaining the property. We would point out that having Mrs. Mallinson on site to monitor and ensure the proper operation of the heating, cooling and water heating systems is very much to Mr. Mallinson's advantage. The failure of even one of these systems would surely hurt any chance of ever being able to sell the property. She certainly deserves compensation for providing such services."

"Moreover," I continued, again preempting Rosa, "having Mrs. Mallinson in the house to maintain it and keep it tidy and ready for showing to prospective buyers is a valuable service. Were Mr. Mallinson to have to contract for such services on the open market, I am sure he would find them costly indeed."

Rosa began to sputter, but before she could respond I had one more point to add. "Finally, we note with dismay that there have been several break-ins in the Mallinsons' neighborhood. Having someone in the house providing ongoing security monitoring is another valuable service that Mrs. Mallinson is willing to provide for appropriate remuneration."

I then handed Rosa a sheet of figures. "As you can see, there are quite a number of items associated with the proper maintenance of the property, and we have assessed the fair market value of providing such services. In fact, Mrs. Mallinson is already providing many of these services in conjunction with her presence at the said property, and is perfectly willing to continue to do so -- assuming she receives adequate compensation. Accordingly, we will expect Mr. Mallinson to offset the rent he is proposing to charge by the total value of these services."

Rosa looked at the sheet and began to fume. "Now wait a minute, Miz Sara, this is outrageous. The cost of all these services comes to more than the rent my client is proposing on the house!"

"Indeed they do," I replied, "but my client is a generous woman. She is perfectly willing to forego these charges if your client will drop his demand for rent. Of course, if he is unwilling to do so, we can place both proposals before the court and allow the judge to decide what is fair."

Rosa gazed at me with a calculating look for a minute, and then relaxed. "Very shrewd of you, Miz Sarah, I hadn't expected that. Very well, given all these considerations, I think my client will be willing to forego charging rent to Mrs. Mallinson and call it even."

I reached over to shake her hand, and said sincerely, "I'm so glad to hear it, Rosa. Divorce is always a painful process. If you and I can help the two of them get through it without additional strife, I think it's so much better for everyone."

She shook her head and smiled in amusement at my words. I know she thought I was naïve.

"On a different topic," she said, watching me closely, "am I correct that David Chesterfield is currently working for you?"

Suddenly I was back on my guard. "Now how did she know that?" I wondered.

"As a matter of fact he is, Miz Rosa. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's no matter," she said breezily. "Ciao, Signora Cannon."

I fretted about that the whole way back to Virginia Highland.

When I got back to my office, the day was almost over. As I walked in the foyer, I could see David putting papers away in his desk drawers and shutting down his computer, preparing to leave. Cindy, however, seemed to be fidgeting at her desk and, when David finally left, she came to my office door.

"Come in, honey. What is it? Is something bothering you?" I asked.

"Miz Sara, I did something today on the spur of the moment, and now it's bothering me. I hope I haven't done something wrong."

"Oh, dear," I thought, "What has she been up to?" If you knew Cindy, you'd know she has an impulsive streak in her. "You can tell me about it," I encouraged.

"Miz Sara, I really like David. He seems like such a nice guy and he's easy to talk to," Cindy began, "and it's clear that he's so unhappy."

"Now, Cindy," I said sternly, "you haven't taken a shine to him, have you? He's a married man, honey!"

"No, no, Miz Sara," she protested hastily. "I mean I really do like him, but we're just friends."

I would have felt more reassured if she had looked me in the eye as she said that. But I kept my fears to myself and encouraged her to go on with her story. "So what was it you did, honey?"

"Well, Miz Sarah, it just seemed so strange to me that his wife wants him out of the house every day. I know he told you about the lingerie sales, but that just didn't make any sense to me. I mean, Mrs. Chesterfield couldn't have customers over there every day, could she?"

"I have to agree," I said, "it sounded odd to me too," I said.

"Exactly," Cindy nodded. "So I got curious and -- well -- rather than going to lunch today, I drove out to their house."

I was astonished. "Cindy, I don't think that was a good idea. You really have no right to spy on Mrs. Chesterfield. If David were to find out, I expect he'd be quite upset."

"I know, Miz Sara, I know. I kept telling myself that all the way out to their house. In fact, I was just about to turn around and head back here when the strangest thing happened," Cindy said. "Just as I pulled onto their street, I saw a car pull up to the curb in front of their house and two men got out. They went up to the door and knocked. Some guy inside opened the door and spoke to them; then he let them into the house. I thought Mrs. Chesterfield was selling lingerie to ladies!" she protested.

I thought that seemed strange as well, but I didn't want to encourage Cindy's overactive imagination. "Perhaps the men were just there to pick up some things their wives had ordered," I offered.

"Maybe," she said doubtfully, "but that's not the end of it, Miz Sara. When I saw that happen, I knew I had to take a look for myself."

"You didn't, Cindy," I gasped.

"Oh yes I did," she replied with a grin. "I marched right up to the door and knocked. When it opened, the same man was standing there. He was big, as big as a nightclub bouncer, and his head was shaved. To be honest, I was a little bit frightened and I just stood there. Anyway, he asked me what I wanted and I told him I was there for the lingerie party."

"Miz Sara, he looked me up and down like a dog looks at a steak, and then he asked 'Are you one of the girls?' I didn't know what he meant, so I just told him no, I had heard about all the pretty things Mrs. Chesterfield had to sell and wanted to come to the party to see them. He got real sniffy with me and said, 'This party is by invitation only,' and he told me I had to leave."

Cindy was clearly indignant at the reception she had received.

"I tried to persuade him to let me in, but he just closed the door in my face. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I came on back to work," she concluded. "Miz Sara, I hope I didn't cause a problem for David. But I think something funny is going on over there, and I don't want him to get in trouble."

I also was having bad feelings about what Cindy had seen, and I agreed with her concern for David. A lot of things just didn't seem to square with what all of us had been told was happening. But I didn't want my assistant running off trying to play detective again, so I told her, "I don't rightly know what to make of it, Cindy, but I don't think we should do anything just yet. I'd like to think everything over for a day or two before I jump to any conclusions."

"But I do know one thing for sure: you absolutely cannot say a word to David. Having you gallivanting out to his house and making wild accusations about the goings on there would upset him no end." I tried to be as firm as I could to make Cindy understand.

She seemed subdued. "Yessum," she promised.

The next morning, I met with Betty Mallinson to let her know that Herman was dropping his demand that she pay him rent to live in her own house. She was grateful to have one problem solved, but she was still bitter about the prospective divorce.

"I'm sorry," I told her, "there's nothing anyone can do to prevent it if Herman wants to end your marriage. All I can do is protect you as best I can legally.

"I know, Miz Sara, and I appreciate all you've done for me already. I just feel like a fool -- you know, the woman left behind."

"Betty," I told her, "I'm going to make a prediction to you: somewhere down the road you're going to get the last laugh. When an older man runs off with a younger woman, in the majority of cases it doesn't last. He can't keep up with her and she gets tired of him. If that happens in Herman's case, you may well get an opportunity to decide whether you want to take him back or let him go."

Betty clearly could see the irony of the situation if my prediction came true. I think it made her feel a little better to think about the shoe being on the other foot some day. It was scant consolation, but sometimes that's all you get.

It was a few days later that Cindy, David and I were all in the office when the doorbell rang. Cindy went to get it, so I paid it no nevermind, but she came into my office a few minutes later with tears running down her face.

"What is it, child?" I asked in alarm. "What's happened?"

"Oh, Miz Sara, it's David. He's so upset: his wife is suing him for divorce!" With that, she handed me the packet the process server had just given to our friend and colleague.

I looked the paperwork over quickly. For the most part it was a standard petition for divorce using irreconcilable differences as the grounds for the action. But I also saw two things that were definitely out of the ordinary. First, attached to the envelope was a note to David from Jeanine telling him not to come home. "Our marriage is over," she had written, "I don't want to see you again."

"That was harsh," I thought.

The second surprise was even bigger: a note to me! Written in a florid scrawl, the note said "We meet again, Signora Cannon," and it was signed, of course, by Rosa Brindisi. It seems that she was representing Jeanine Chesterfield.

I must confess I let my emotions get the better of me for a minute. On the one hand, I was deeply saddened for David. I'd come to like him a great deal in the weeks he'd been working for me, and I hated to see his marriage come to such a bitter end. At the same time, I was deeply offended that Rosa Brindisi had seen fit to have David served in my own office. No doubt she was miffed at the way I'd been able to ward off her little ploys in the Mallinsons' case, and she'd chosen this means to show me up.

All along I had scrupulously avoided inserting myself into David's affairs. But it now appeared that I was going to be thrust into the middle of things whether or not I wanted to be. Very well then, as great Caesar said, "The die is cast."

The first thing I did was to go into my office and call a friend to see if he could give me any time. When he agreed, I went back out to find Cindy and David.

"David," I said, "assuming you want me, I'll be glad to handle your case for you."

He was quick to agree.

"Cindy," I went on, "I have to go do a little investigating on my own this afternoon. I'd like you and David to take care of things here in the office while I'm out. And David, you'll need to find a place to stay tonight. Tomorrow, we'll have a little council of war first thing in the morning. But until then, I want you to promise me you won't try to make any contact with Jeanine. Don't call her, and for heaven's sake don't go out to your home. Cindy, that goes for you too."

"Yessum," they both replied with solemn looks.

The next morning, I asked the two of them to come into my office. When David and Cindy were seated on the settee, I took the rocking chair and began to speak. "I am not a happy woman. I am unhappy that Jeanine has been treating David so unkindly, and I do not appreciate her using me as a means to keep David out of their house. I do not appreciate the fact that Jeanine used the opportunity created by my offer of employment to David to plan her divorce. Finally, I am not happy that Rosa Brindisi has used this unfortunate situation as an opportunity to try to embarrass me in my own office."

I took a deep breath. "I don't believe in meddling in other people's affairs. While I have been distressed that David was suffering, I felt that his relationship with his wife was a personal matter and none of our business. But after everything that's happened, I think Jeanine and Miz Rosa have made it our business, and it's time we started to get some answers."

"The very first time I met Jeanine, she was complaining about wanting to get David out of the house during the day. David, you've told us that she's been trying to keep you away for at least the last year. When she filed for divorce, she went out of her way to tell you to stay away from home."

"And that's not all." I turned to David. "Last week, David, our Cindy got so curious that she got the notion to play detective. (David looked at Cindy quizzically and she blushed.) She made a little trip out to your house. Cindy, would you please tell David what you observed?"

Cindy quickly recounted the details of her little scouting expedition, and David's face darkened as he listened. When she had finished, he turned to me. "Miz Sara, I don't know what it all means, but I don't like the sound of that at all. If you'd told me about this a month ago, I would have been sure there was a good reason for all these goings on. But after all that's happened, I can't help but think that whatever is taking place at my house, there's a bad reason behind it."

"I agree," I told him. "It seems as though all the mysterious activity going on centers around your house. I think it's time we paid Jeanine Chesterfield a visit to see for ourselves what's going on out there."

I thought for a minute, and then asked, "David, am I correct that you're listed as co-owner on the deed to your house?"

"Yes, Miz Sara," he confirmed, "Jeanine and I are both listed on the deed."

"Very well, then, I think it's time the homeowner made an inspection of his property," I told him.

"But what about her note telling me not to come home again?" he asked.

"I understand that those are her wishes," I said firmly, "but you have every bit as much right to be in that home as she does. You don't have to have an invitation; in fact, it's probably better that she's not expecting you."

"Now, it seems to me that noon time is when things seem to be going on over there, so let's get an early lunch and then we'll go for a drive."

There are a number of restaurants around the intersection of Virginia and Highland, so I asked Cindy to run out and get us some sandwiches. It didn't take long because we were early, so she came back in no time with lunch for the three of us. The sandwiches were good, but none of us finished our food -- I think we were all too nervous.

By the time we were done, it was a little after noon, and the three of us piled into my car, since it was the largest. I drive an old Buick LeSabre, and even though they don't make them any more, that's not a good reason to give up a car that still runs pretty good. Besides, I'm comfortable driving it.

We headed out to David and Jeanine's neighborhood. They lived in an area that had been in decline for a number of years but was now making a bit of a comeback. Many of the homes had a lot of character but were somewhat rundown. David and Jeanine had bought a big old two-story home that they'd planned to refurbish.

It was a hot summer day and there was little activity on the suburban streets. As we approached David's house, we decided to drive around the block first to try to get an idea of what might be going on. We saw several cars parked on the street in front of the house, but we didn't see anyone entering or leaving.

There was an alley running behind all the homes on his street, and David suggested we drive back there. When we drove through the alley, we still couldn't see anything going on, so we parked behind David's house. After a brief discussion, we all climbed out of the car and made our way toward the back of the house. The back yard was filled with old trees and bushes, so we could approach the house without having to worry about being spotted. It made me think of playing cowboys and Indians as a child so many years ago.

The back of the house featured a large screened-in porch. We could see there was no one back there, nor was there anyone in the kitchen which opened onto the porch. My heart was pounding and I thought, "I'm too old for these kinds of games." Nevertheless, we climbed the three wooden steps up to the porch and cautiously opened the door. Everyone flinched when the hinges on the screen door squeaked, but we needn't have worried. From the porch we could now hear music playing loud enough inside to drown out any noise we might make.