family should know. Something their lawyer needs to know.”
“I’m not their lawyer yet. I’m considering it.”
“After you hear what I have to say, you’ll want to be their lawyer.”
“If you put it that way, I’m all ears.”
“Just, please don’t ever attribute this to me.”
“Understood.”
She shifted in her seat, as if building up her nerve. Then she let it fly: “Celeste Laramore should not be in a coma.”
Jack allowed her words to hang for a moment, the impact growing. “Exactly what are you trying to tell me?”
“Let me put a finer point on it,” she said. “If it weren’t for BNN, she wouldn’t be in a coma.”
Jack measured his response, trying to be polite. “Rene, I appreciate your concern for the family. But I have no intention of filing yet another frivolous lawsuit against a media giant whose television program allegedly provoked some loser to commit a violent act. Those claims just don’t cut it.”
“I hear you,” she said. “And clearly, Faith Corso was talking about a claim along those lines when she broke the news that the Laramore family was considering a lawsuit against BNN.”
“I’m aware of that report,” he said, stating the obvious. “But I can’t talk to you about what the family is considering.”
“I understand. I didn’t come here to find out what’s under consideration. I’m here to tell you what you should consider.”
“Fair enough.”
“I don’t think it was a coincidence that BNN was the first to report that the Laramore family is planning to sue them. They know what they did wrong. Faith Corso just got out in front of the story, trying to obscure the fact that the cause and effect is much tighter than anyone would ever suspect. Much clearer than BNN would like anyone to believe.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
Rene leaned closer, folding her hands atop the table, locking eyes with Jack. “Meaning that in both a medical and legal sense, BNN is directly responsible for what happened to Celeste Laramore.”
“That’s easy to say. But proving in a courtroom that BNN was the legal cause of Celeste’s coma is the Achilles heel in the case.”
“I didn’t say it would be a breeze. But I can help you prove it.”
“How?”
Her eyes narrowed, her stare tightening. “Do you think a television network could have a problem if its news-gathering tactics interfere with a hospital’s ability to treat an injured patient?”
“Possibly,” said Jack. “It might depend on what those tactics are.”
“Fair point,” she said. “But listen to what I’m saying, Jack. Because this time, BNN went way too far.”
Chapter Fifteen
J ack reached Cy’s Place in time to catch the 7:10 P.M. start of the Marlins’ game on TV. Theo wanted to hear all about his meeting with Rene. Jack gave him next to nothing, sharing instead nearly everything else he’d done since. An hour wasted at the courthouse on a calendar call. Another hour driving Abuela to a friend’s house for the night so she wouldn’t be alone. A useless follow-up with Detective Rivera, who was still without leads on Jack’s attacker. A phone call to Andie.
“Andie who?” said Theo.
“Very funny,” said Jack.
The conversation seemed to stick on Andie, mostly Jack’s doing, which prompted Theo to render more pithy advice on “temporary” versus “permanent”—pop psychology on the order of Charlie Brown, Lucy, and “ THE DOCTOR IS IN .” A lonely customer a couple of stools away overheard and joined in.
“I know the feeling,” he said as he loosened his tie. He had out-of-towner written all over him, a businessman who had wandered over from one of the Grove hotels. “Just got divorced myself.”
Jack nodded but said nothing, wanting no part of that conversation. Theo overrode him.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” said Theo. “What’s your story, pal?”
He leaned closer, resting one elbow on the bar, as if he were about to divulge the secret formula for
“I’m not their lawyer yet. I’m considering it.”
“After you hear what I have to say, you’ll want to be their lawyer.”
“If you put it that way, I’m all ears.”
“Just, please don’t ever attribute this to me.”
“Understood.”
She shifted in her seat, as if building up her nerve. Then she let it fly: “Celeste Laramore should not be in a coma.”
Jack allowed her words to hang for a moment, the impact growing. “Exactly what are you trying to tell me?”
“Let me put a finer point on it,” she said. “If it weren’t for BNN, she wouldn’t be in a coma.”
Jack measured his response, trying to be polite. “Rene, I appreciate your concern for the family. But I have no intention of filing yet another frivolous lawsuit against a media giant whose television program allegedly provoked some loser to commit a violent act. Those claims just don’t cut it.”
“I hear you,” she said. “And clearly, Faith Corso was talking about a claim along those lines when she broke the news that the Laramore family was considering a lawsuit against BNN.”
“I’m aware of that report,” he said, stating the obvious. “But I can’t talk to you about what the family is considering.”
“I understand. I didn’t come here to find out what’s under consideration. I’m here to tell you what you should consider.”
“Fair enough.”
“I don’t think it was a coincidence that BNN was the first to report that the Laramore family is planning to sue them. They know what they did wrong. Faith Corso just got out in front of the story, trying to obscure the fact that the cause and effect is much tighter than anyone would ever suspect. Much clearer than BNN would like anyone to believe.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
Rene leaned closer, folding her hands atop the table, locking eyes with Jack. “Meaning that in both a medical and legal sense, BNN is directly responsible for what happened to Celeste Laramore.”
“That’s easy to say. But proving in a courtroom that BNN was the legal cause of Celeste’s coma is the Achilles heel in the case.”
“I didn’t say it would be a breeze. But I can help you prove it.”
“How?”
Her eyes narrowed, her stare tightening. “Do you think a television network could have a problem if its news-gathering tactics interfere with a hospital’s ability to treat an injured patient?”
“Possibly,” said Jack. “It might depend on what those tactics are.”
“Fair point,” she said. “But listen to what I’m saying, Jack. Because this time, BNN went way too far.”
Chapter Fifteen
J ack reached Cy’s Place in time to catch the 7:10 P.M. start of the Marlins’ game on TV. Theo wanted to hear all about his meeting with Rene. Jack gave him next to nothing, sharing instead nearly everything else he’d done since. An hour wasted at the courthouse on a calendar call. Another hour driving Abuela to a friend’s house for the night so she wouldn’t be alone. A useless follow-up with Detective Rivera, who was still without leads on Jack’s attacker. A phone call to Andie.
“Andie who?” said Theo.
“Very funny,” said Jack.
The conversation seemed to stick on Andie, mostly Jack’s doing, which prompted Theo to render more pithy advice on “temporary” versus “permanent”—pop psychology on the order of Charlie Brown, Lucy, and “ THE DOCTOR IS IN .” A lonely customer a couple of stools away overheard and joined in.
“I know the feeling,” he said as he loosened his tie. He had out-of-towner written all over him, a businessman who had wandered over from one of the Grove hotels. “Just got divorced myself.”
Jack nodded but said nothing, wanting no part of that conversation. Theo overrode him.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” said Theo. “What’s your story, pal?”
He leaned closer, resting one elbow on the bar, as if he were about to divulge the secret formula for
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