No Defense (40 page)

“Don’t want to leave anything out.” He
studied the outline. “So, first, we want to review the case law on
custody, and then we want to summarize the history of the
case.”

“Based on what?” Marilee asked.

“All the court filings from his divorce and
the custody battle. A lot happened before he retained us.”

“Mr. Hallowell brought the court documents
in when we first met him,” Paula said, holding one hand up as far
as it could reach and the other at her lap, signifying a pile of
papers a few feet deep.

“Did he have a lawyer then?” Marilee
asked.

The students shook their heads. “He
represented himself.”

“Not a good idea,” Paula said.

“After reviewing the history of the case and
the law, we’re going to recommend he sees a psychiatrist to try to
get his behavior a little more normalized so he’ll have a chance
with custody,” Paula explained, her hands flying as she talked. “It
shouldn’t be too difficult to discuss with him, hopefully, because
he’s well aware of his mental health issues. We found him someone
at the hospital who will treat him
pro bono
.”

“That’s great,” Marilee said. “One thing.
Did you – ?” Before she could ask them if they’d gone to court to
take a look at Mr. Hallowell’s court files, her phone rang. The
caller ID showed the number for Ellie’s preschool. Her heart
flip-flopped and she raised a finger and picked up.

“Everything’s fine, Marilee,” Jo Ellen, the
preschool receptionist began, “but I just wondered if you’re gonna
have time to bring over the healthy snacks. You signed up for today
at back to school night. Remember?”

Damn
. That morning she’d been so
focused on her hair and clothes and the excitement of getting the
Chair that she’d forgotten all about the snacks. “Right, right. I
just need to finish a few quick things and I’ll be right over.”
After she stopped by the Piggly Wiggly and bought the snacks, that
is, something she should have done yesterday.

Lance and Paula looked at her, wondering,
she was sure, whether some client crisis required her to leave the
law school in the middle of the day. Or perhaps a news producer was
asking her to appear on a nightly news show, as she did from time
to time, to decipher some obscure legal issue.

But she didn’t dare tell them who had
actually called or why. She knew from her own and other women’s
experiences that sharing personal details about children caused
students and colleagues to view you as less than a full-fledged
professional and more as a mom. For that reason, she didn’t have
pictures of Ellie in her office. Some of the male professors’
office walls and shelves were covered with photos of their children
and wives, and no one doubted their professionalism because
everyone assumed someone else (guess who?) took care of the kids
while the male professor devoted every waking minute to the
attainment of intellectual nirvana at the law school.

She hung up and looked at the students.
“Sorry about the interruption. Anything else we need to
discuss?”

Lance shook his head, though he grimaced as
well. “We’re prepared; I’m just nervous!” He looked at Marilee
anxiously, his mouth partly open, as though he might change his
tune, but he didn’t.

“Great. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll talk with
you after your counseling session.”

They packed up their stuff and left,
chattering about the case, excited at the prospect of counseling
their client. Like the majority of the students, they treasured
Clinic work. They were delighted to get out of the classroom, where
they focused on hundred-year-old cases that often had no relevance
to the type of law they intended to practice, and actually
represent clients, which was the reason they had gone to law school
in the first place. After a few weeks of Clinic, they often viewed
their substantive classes as irrelevant drivel. Real clients! Real
cases! Real lawyers at last!

Marilee loved working with the students
during their transition from student to lawyer and helping them
along the sometimes difficult but always exciting way. Their
enthusiasm was catching and contrasted dramatically with the
attitude of the associates in the law firm where she’d worked in
Atlanta, Wooten and Payne. There, the associates billed and billed,
their only goal more billable hours than the other associates vying
for partnership. Many had gone to law school to help others, some
to save the world, but some had exorbitant educational debts, while
others just became addicted to the finer things of life, whether it
was a BMW, a club membership, or a steady supply of designer shoes.
The dream of becoming an attorney whose job was to help clients
with difficult problems was often lost in the race for
partnership.

Chair or no Chair, Marilee loved teaching
Clinic and she would be damned if she’d let Sue Scanlon run her out
of there.

Rangeley
Wallace
 moved from the South
toWashington, D.C. where she is an author and a lawyer. She is the
author of 
No
Defense
 and
Things are going to Slide
(Bev
Editions).

P
raise for
 
No Defense
:

“
Wallace
 
avoids any Grisham-come-lately
clichés in this interesting novel of southern justice... This
page-turner of a novel is refreshing in it’s uncommon perspective,
as opposed to the usual legal novel that focuses on
lawyers.” 
 
Booklist

“A riveting courtroom
drama…Another fine story in the Southern literary
tradition”
Library Journal

“
Rangeley Wallace
 has written
a  taut, compelling Southern drama that is cut from the same
cloth as 
Harper
Lee
 and the
early 
William
Faulkner
.” 
Winston
Groom
,
author
of 
Forrest Gump

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book (and I) have benefited from the
editorial input and support of a long list of folks, including, in
no particular order, Martine Bellen, Alex Logan, Lois Gilbert, and
Herta Feely. I am grateful to my agent, Beverley Slopen, who has
worked tirelessly to find this book a home and finally made it
happen. Without my friends and colleagues in the Clinic at the
Washington College of Law, American University, especially
Professor Elliot Milstein (AKA the oldest living clinician) who
first taught me when I was a Clinic student many, many years ago,
then welcomed me to the Clinic faculty at WCL, I could not have
written this book. He, together with Professors David Chavkin and
Robert Dinerstein, has given me much-needed guidance, for which I
am especially thankful. If I have distorted or exaggerated any
Clinic theories or practices, know it was in the name of the story.
Special thanks also to Professor Debra Tuerkheimer at DePaul
University College of Law and Toni Blake, Esq. who graciously
shared their time and knowledge about Shaken Baby Syndrome and
wrongful convictions, an issue aptly referred to by Professor
Tuerkheimer as the “next Innocence Project.” Finally, for their
boundless love and endless support, my thanks to my husband, Jim,
and our children, Daniel, Jamie, Emma and Jack.