“Yes, which is why we’re going to file the civil lawsuit if they don’t make us an offer we can live with. Mr. Voorhees pointed that out to them when they wanted to treat it like an accident rather than an intentional act.”
“Mr. Voorhees never said how much he planned to ask for,” Dad said.
“That would have been something that Cal should have shared with you in the meeting you had with him this week,” Ms. Dixon said with more than a little heat. “I’m sorry that it got missed in the transition from Cal to Mr. Voorhees.”
“What amount did he give them?” I asked.
“Fifty million,” Ms. Dixon said.
Dad and I looked at each other.
“If you consider your potential lost income in either the NFL or Major League Baseball, it’s a drop in the bucket. Add to that the possibility that you might never be able to do a movie again. Plus, you have four children to support, and a lifetime of potential earnings in front of you. Zander put all of that at risk when he ordered the car to ram yours. Which he did, while he was high. And which he was convicted of. Given that, the number doesn’t seem so unreasonable, especially if he has insurance to help cover a portion of it,” Ms. Dixon assured us.
“Do you think we’ll get that?” I asked.
“If you were on the other side of the negotiation table during that meeting with Mr. Voorhees … Let’s just say you might want to pay it to keep him from dragging you through the mud,” she said.
I’d had a chance to do an Internet search on my new lawyer and never wanted to be his target. I might have paid to make him go away.
“Did he give them an out?” Dad asked, apparently reading my mind.
“He showed them just enough to give them pause. I imagine they expected they could cow him and instead found out they were dealing with a street fighter.”
You could tell that she was impressed, and Ms. Dixon was the scariest lawyer I knew. If she was satisfied with how it went, I wasn’t about to second-guess her.
“Now what?” Dad asked.
“They either respond by Wednesday or we file. My bet is they will let us file and see what we do. When Mr. Voorhees begins talking to the press is when they will come to us with an offer.”
“Where do you think this will end up?” I asked.
“Money-wise?” Ms. Dixon asked.
“Yes.”
“If it goes to trial, the sky’s the limit. The problem will be collecting it. Look at the OJ wrongful death suit. The guy’s family is still trying to get paid on that one. OJ moved to Florida because they have a law that you can’t take someone’s home from them. He dumped most of his money into that.
“The best course would be to have them come back and tell us what he can afford and negotiate a deal. I don’t normally advise going to trial on these types of cases, but we would prevail if we did,” Ms. Dixon explained.
“They understand that?” Dad asked.
“They sure do. Zander may have cut a deal to stay out of jail, but he did get convicted. It’s not like he can say he didn’t do it because he stood up in court and admitted his wrongdoing. His lawyers know they’re going to have to pay you. It will all come down to how much.”
“Anything else you need from us?” Dad asked.
“No. Just trust Ms. Addison today. She is good at what she does,” Ms. Dixon said and then hung up.
◊◊◊
I found Teresa cleaning my room, so I decided that I should be elsewhere. I looked out back, and Adrienne was lying out, so I took the seat next to hers.
“Hiding from your stalker?”
“That obvious?” I asked.
“If you want to bail on her coming to the party, I’ll tell her,” Adrienne offered. “Tyler pointed out that we were being mean.”
I bit back hard on the “Ya think?” retort that immediately threatened to escape my lips.
“I’m not about to do something foolish, even though she is attractive. Now, if
“Not happening,” she said to dash my dreams. “You need to be careful with Teresa.”
“Why?”
“Her mom obviously married for money. When Tyler and I talked to Paulina, she referred to the fact that she wanted a similar situation for her daughter. I wouldn’t be alone with Teresa unless you have your bodycam on. Not everyone is like you and tries to do the right thing. Not that I think she would make something up, but I wouldn’t put it past her mother to do just that,” Adrienne warned.
That was the primary reason I wore a bodycam. It eliminated the whole he said/she said problem. Fritz had forwarded me an article about a football player in the San Francisco area who’d been accused of domestic violence. It turned out his accuser-slash-girlfriend had received her injuries during a fight with another woman and had come home pretty bruised-up. He told her he didn’t want to be around someone who would get into fights. It pissed her off, so she accused him of doing it and had him arrested. The case got all the way to court before she recanted. She admitted she wanted to ‘end him.’ I bet he wished he had surveillance equipment in his home.
“I should be okay,” I told her.
“Not if they make up a complete lie. They might claim you did stuff that wasn’t caught on camera,” Adrienne said.
