Unconscionable, A Rich Coleman Novel Vol 3 Page 34
Chapter 33
The Unthinkable
Matt took advantage of the break to go check on his witnesses. They were all there minus his star witness that he was holding back for the following day. On the way back into the courtroom he looked around to see if there was anyone unexpected in the gallery. There were reporters, of course, some members of the DA’s staff, Cindy’s family, and employees of RMS—nobody out of the ordinary. A moment later as Matt returned to his seat, the door next to the bench opened and the bailiff yelled, “All rise.”
Everyone stood up as the judge entered the courtroom and took the bench. “Be seated,” the judge said. “Mr. Coleman, your witness.”
“Ms. Ross, when you actually received the modification packet from the Sharps, was it promptly sent to the modification department for processing?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone instruct you to delay or sabotage the processing of the modification?” Matt asked.
“No. I would never do that.”
“Did you know Cindy Sharp or her husband before she called you on the phone to ask about a modification?”
“No. I did not.”
“So, the Sharps’ application was treated just like the hundreds of similar applications you receive each week.”
“That’s correct.”
“And did you make any representations to Ms. Sharp about whether or not the foreclosure process would be abated pending the modification?”
“No.”
“Does the company monitor the phone calls that come to you?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Are they recorded for later access?”
“Yes.”
“Did your attorneys produce the transcripts of those telephone calls?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I will represent to you that they did not. The explanation was that they were routinely deleted every ninety days. Is that consistent with your knowledge?”
Ross frowned. “Well, I didn’t know that.”
“Have you ever accessed a telephone conversation that took place more than ninety days earlier?”
The witness squirmed in her chair. “Yeah. I think so, but I may be mistaken.”
“It’s too bad we can’t listen to that actual conversation just to see whose recollection is correct. You’re sure you didn’t assure Ms. Sharp that the foreclosure wouldn’t go forward?”
“No. Like I said, I only told her that if the modification was approved prior to the foreclosure taking place, then the note default would be cured and the delinquent payments tacked on the end of the note.”
“But the modification was not approved or declined? Is that right?”
“Not to my knowledge. I never saw anything one way or the other.”
“If it had been approved, how would you have been informed?”
“The file would have been transferred to the modification department and the modification department would have contacted the Sharps directly by email, with a copy to me, giving them information about closing on the modification.”
“So, when you got that email you would have closed the account.”
“Correct.”
“And had it been rejected how would you have been informed?”
“I would have gotten an email notifying me of that fact.”
“But you didn’t get any such notification?”
“Correct.”
“So, would it be accurate to say the modification at that time was still pending?”
“That would be my understanding. Yes.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ross,” Matt said. “No further questions.”
“Mr. Richmond, your witness?”
“No questions, Your Honor.”
“Then call your next witness.”
Matt called Simon Artis, who testified that he worked for a firm called Metro Realty who was hired routinely by RMS to handle the eviction of home owners whose homes had been foreclosed. Richmond objected to the relevance of the testimony, but Matt explained that the amount of profit Lucius Jones was making from all the foreclosures RMS was turning out was relevant to its alleged failure to promptly turn around and approve modification applications. The judge agreed and overruled the objection. Then Matt asked Artis about his conversation with Tony Sharp.
“When Mr. Sharp told you that he had a forbearance agreement while the modification was being processed, what did you do?”
Artis smiled. “I laughed. That’s what they all say.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I told him he didn’t read the fine print. It clearly states that although RMS will consider a modification, it is not waiving any right or remedy under the deed of trust nor abating any foreclosure that has already been commenced.”
“I see. So, why does RMS hire you? Why not just hire its law firm to file the eviction suit?”
“Because attorneys are expensive and going to court takes time. Plus I can usually get the home owners out voluntarily.”
“How do you do that?”
“I explain to them how contesting the foreclosure is a costly and futile effort. Most people are realistic and practical, particularly when I offer them cash for keys.”
“Cash for keys?”
“Yes, I’m authorized to give them up to $1,500 for moving expenses if they will surrender the property without any fuss.”
“And that usually works?”
“Ninety percent of the time. Fifteen hundred dollars is better than a stick in the eye, as they say.”
“Right. So, how much does Metro Realty get paid for handling the Cash for Keys program?”
“Per property, $1,250.”
“And how many foreclosures did you handle last year?”
“Ah, I don’t know exactly, but around two thousand in Texas.”
“So, that’s about $2.5 million?”
“That sounds about right.”
“And how much of the profits from Metro Realty went to Lucius Jones?”
“Twenty-five percent.”
There was a buzz in the courtroom, and the bailiff glared out at the crowd.
“Thank you, Mr. Artis,” Matt said. “No further questions at this time.”
“Very well. Mr. Richmond, your witness,” the judge said.
Richmond briefly cross-examined Artis, trying to downplay the profit Lucius was receiving from Metro Realty and bolster the need for Metro Realty’s services.
“All right, Mr. Coleman. Call your next witness.”
“Yes, Your Honor. The plaintiff calls Brett Smith.”
Smith took the stand and explained how he and Lucius Jones had set up Prime Holdings Ltd. with him owning 49 percent and Jones having the controlling 51 percent interest.
“So, what is the purpose of Prime Holdings?” Matt asked.
“Well, most of the time when you held a trustee’s sale, there wouldn’t be any bidders due to the first lien note on the property, outstanding property taxes, and the condition of the property. So, Lucius and I set up Prime Holdings to buy the potentially profitable properties, fix them up, and sell them when the market was right.”
“I see. So, what do you mean by potentially profitable?”
“Well, properties where there was sufficient equity that it was likely to eventually sell for a profit.”
“So, what was the average profit on these properties when you sold them?”
“On average we made about a twenty-five percent profit over the purchase price.”
“And how was the purchase price determined?”
“It was the greater of the first lien note balance plus the foreclosure costs or sixty-six percent of appraised value.”
“Were these new appraisals?”
“Yes, we always had the property appraised prior to foreclosure.”
“Did Lucius Jones have an interest in the appraisal company you used?”
“No. It was owned by his nephew.”
There was laughter in the gallery.
“Five hundred and twenty-four, I believe.”
“Were they financed?”
“Yes, we have a line of credit with Happy State Bank.”
Matt laughed. “Happy State Bank?”
“Yes. It’s out of Amarillo.”
“Okay. How much did you finance?”
“Roughly $138,000 per unit, or about seventy-two million, give or take.”
“And how many were sold?”
“None. The market has been bad, so we’re waiting for it to turn around.”
“So, on seventy-two million, if your twenty-five percent profit model holds up, you should make about eighteen million.”
“Well, there will be expenses, so it will probably be more like fifteen million if the market turns around. If it doesn’t, our profit margin could disappear entirely.”
“Understood,” Matt said. “No further questions of this witness.”
Again on cross Richmond tried to justify the need for Prime Holdings Ltd. in order to spare RMS from having to hold large inventories of property. It actually made sense, but Matt could see the jury was getting annoyed at all the profit Lucius Jones had been making on the foreclosures.
“Call your next witness,” the judge said after Richmond had ended his cross.
“Thank you, Your Honor. The plaintiff calls Juan Rubio.”
Matt had gauged Juan Rubio to be the less vocal of the owners of CDR and the one more likely to tell the truth. The judge reminded him he was under oath.
“Please state your name for the record,” Matt asked.
“Juan Rubio.”
“And for whom are you employed?”
“I work for Consolidated Document Retrieval, or CDR for short.”
“And what does CDR do for its customers?”
“We find missing documents.”
“How do you do that?”
“Well, it depends on who we are working for and what kind of documents are missing.”
“Is RMS one of your customers?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s say they needed an assignment of lien,” Matt said.
“Well, if it were an assignment of a deed of trust or mortgage lien, we go to the county where the property is located and find it in the deed records.”
“What if it hadn’t been filed in the deed records?”
“Well, then we would contact the assignor and the assignee of the lien and see if one of them had an unfiled copy.”
“Let’s say after a diligent search you couldn’t find it?” Matt persisted.
“Well, it has to be somewhere. We just keep looking until we find it.”
“What if it wasn’t ever drafted and signed?”
“Ah. Well, then our customer is out of luck, I guess.”
“You realize you’re under oath, don’t you?”
“Objection!” Richmond spat. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“Overruled,” the judge said. “It doesn’t hurt to remind witnesses that they are under oath for their own protection.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. You may answer, Mr. Rubio.”
“What was the question?”
“Do you realize you’re under oath?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, isn’t it true that if you cannot locate a document you create it?”
Rubio looked at the judge and then Richmond. “Ah. I think I need my lawyer.”
The judge studied Rubio. “You’re a witness, Mr. Rubio, not a defendant. You can consult with an attorney if you wish, but unless he is in the gallery or can get here in the next fifteen minutes, we don’t have time to allow you to consult with him. What is your concern about continuing to answer questions?”
“I’m afraid I might be getting myself in trouble.”
“You mean your answers may tend to incriminate you?” the judge asked.
“Yes. Possibly.”
“Well, you can exercise your Fifth Amendment right not to answer a question on the grounds that it might tend to incriminate you, but only if you legitimately believe that is the case.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I want to take the Fifth.”
“Very well. Please read the last question posed to Mr. Rubio.”
The court reporter spoke. “So, isn’t it true that if you cannot locate a document you create it?”
“Do you understand the question, Mr. Rubio?” the judge asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“So, you want to take the Fifth on that question? Is that right?”
“Yes,” Rubio said.
“All right. So noted. Now, if Mr. Coleman wants to keep asking you questions he can do so, and you can only take the Fifth if you are genuinely concerned that answering the question might tend to incriminate you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Matt picked up another document. “Mr. Rubio, I’m going to show you what’s been marked Exhibit 4. . . . May I approach, Your Honor?”
“You may,” the judge said.
Matt took Exhibit 4 to the witness. “This is what an earlier witness identified as the assignment of lien from Pacific Glen Partners LP to North American Servicing. Does that look correct?”
“Yes. That’s what it says.”
“Now, was this document created by CDR?”
Rubio reviewed the document carefully and then sighed. “I think I’m going to take the Fifth.”
“You’re refusing to answer on grounds it may tend to incriminate you?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” Rubio said tentatively.
“Thank you. No further questions of this witness.”
“Mr. Richmond. Cross?”
Richmond thought for a moment then looked at his co-counsel. “Ah. No questions of this witness, Your Honor.”
The judge looked at the clock. “It’s nearly noon. We’ll adjourn until one thirty p.m.”
The judge stood up and left the courtroom. The gallery erupted in conversation as people began to wander out into the hall. Matt got up and began packing everything into his briefcase. The courtroom was supposed to be secure, but he didn’t like leaving critical papers and evidence lying around.
“I’ve never been to a trial before. That was quite interesting,” Candy said.
Matt, recognizing the voice, turned around quickly and smiled. “Candy! Hi. So, how long have you been here?”
“All morning.”
“Wow. What did you think?”
“I think it’s a good thing Lucius Jones is dead. I doubt he’d enjoy seeing his company torn apart piece by piece.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s what’s happening. The plaintiff’s case always looks good until the defendant puts their case on.”
Candy raised her eyebrows. “Well, you’re doing a hell of a job.”
“You want to grab some lunch with Ryan and me?” Matt asked. “We’ve got time to go to the West End.”
“Sure, I’ve got Sharon with me.”
“Bring her along. Ryan will be thrilled to meet her.”
Ten minutes later the foursome was walking briskly past the Kennedy Memorial toward the West End. Sharon insisted they eat at Gator’s Croc & Roc because she loved their fried pickles. Fortunately, there wasn’t a line and they were seated quickly.
“So, how do you think it is going?” Sharon asked.
“Pretty good,” Matt said. “So far all the witnesses have testified pretty much as expected.”
“What was that about the signatures that didn’t match?” Candy asked.
“Well, we think, or I should say know, that it’s RMS’s practice to create any documents that they don’t have but need in order to prove a chain of title.”
“Is that legal?” Candy asked.
“No,” Ryan said. “It’s fraudulent and a crime to forge someone’s signature.”
“How do they figure they can get away with it?” Sharon asked.
“Wow. How did you know they were crooked?” Sharon asked.
Matt looked at Ryan. “Well, let’s just say we have our sources.”
As they were talking the waitress came over, took their drink orders, and gave them menus.
“Excuse me, I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Sharon said.
“Oh, I think I’ll join you,” Candy said, getting up.
Matt nodded, picked up the menu, and started reading it. A minute later the waitress returned with their drinks. As she was leaving Sharon returned.
“So, Ryan. How’s the criminal law business?”
“What criminal law business? So far all I’ve been doing is working on this case.”
“You haven’t had to get any of the girls out of jail?”
“No. What’s with that?” Ryan teased. “You girls been paying off the cops?”
Sharon smiled wryly. “No, Candy runs a tight ship. She’s very careful and screens our clients very well.”
“Well, that’s good. Sitting is a jail cell isn’t much fun.”
“Amen to that,” Matt interjected.
Sharon grinned and took a sip of her iced tea. Everyone was studying their menu when a young blond-headed boy ran up, handed Matt a folded piece of paper, and ran off. Startled, Matt nearly knocked over his drink.
“What’s this?” Matt asked irritably, but the boy was gone. Matt looked at the paper warily and then cautiously opened it. A note had been printed in capital letters.
COLEMAN,
YOU’RE GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS ROAD. STOP NOW BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE AND KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK YOU KNOW. I’VE TAKEN CANDY AS INSURANCE. IF YOU WANT TO SEE HER ALIVE AGAIN HEED THIS WARNING. NO COPS OR FBI AND DON’T TRY TO FIND HER. I’VE KILLED ONCE TO PROTECT WHAT’S MINE SO I WON’T HESITATE A SECOND TIME.
Matt’s heart sank. Memories of his wife’s kidnapping and brutal murder raced through his mind.
“What the hell?” Ryan exclaimed.
“Where’s Candy?” Matt asked.
“She was in the ladies’ room a minute ago,” Sharon said.
“Go check on her,” Matt said urgently.
Sharon rushed to the ladies’ room with Matt on her heels. She went inside and came out almost immediately. “She’s not in there. What are we going to do?”
“Search the restaurant!” Matt ordered. “I’ll check out the front.
Sharon went one way and Ryan the other, but they soon returned to their table with frightened looks on their faces. Matt sat down and studied the note again. He wondered if he should call the FBI. He hadn’t contacted the police when his wife Lynn’s life had been threatened. He’d caved into the threats and intimidation, assuming that if he did what the thugs asked, they would leave her alone. But giving in to them hadn’t worked and they’d murdered Lynn and her sister anyway. He wondered if Candy was already dead, or if she was alive, whether capitulation would save her.
“We should call the police?” Ryan urged.
“No. The note said no cops or FBI.”
“So? How would he know?”
“He may have someone watching us.”
“So, what are we supposed to do, then?” Ryan asked, fear in his voice.
“I don’t know. I need to think.”
“We’ve got to find Candy!” Sharon moaned, tears running down her cheeks. “We can’t let anything happen to her.”
“I know, I know. We’ll find her,” Matt assured her.
“So, this guy is Jones’s killer?” Ryan asked.
“Obviously. He figured out we knew who he was and were about to expose him.”
“Damn it!” Ryan exclaimed. “I can’t believe this is happening. I wish Dad were here. He’d know what to do.”
“You know who killed Lucius Jones?” Sharon asked.
“Yes. We’ve figured it out and we were going to expose the killer tomorrow.”
“So, what are we going to do?” Ryan asked frantically.
“We can’t call any more witnesses,” Matt noted. “We’ll have to close with what we’ve got or try to settle.”
“You think they would consider settling?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe, if they think there’s more damaging evidence about to come out.”
“Then let’s ask the court for the afternoon to try to settle and then maybe the asshole will let Candy go.”
“That’s our best bet, I guess,” Matt agreed. “But I’m not going to make the same mistake I did with Lynn.”
“What mistake was that?” Sharon asked.
“I believed if I cooperated with them they’d leave her alone.”
“But isn’t that exactly what you are doing by shutting down the trial?” Ryan asked.
“No. I’m going to make it look like I’m complying, but in reality I’m going to be doing everything humanly possible to get Candy back and bring the asshole down who kidnapped her.”
“Good. What can I do to help?” Sharon asked.
“I don’t know right now, but stick around. We might need you for something. And don’t tell anyone what’s going on.”
“What if someone asks me where Candy is?”
“Tell them she had to go back to work but you wanted to stay and watch the trial.”
“Okay,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “So, you’re bringing in the police and the FBI?”
Matt nodded. “Yeah. There’s no way you and I could ever find the bastard alone.”
“Good,” Ryan replied.
They paid for their drinks and went back to the courthouse. Matt got off at the third floor, went into the law library, and found an empty typing room in which he could make a phone call without anyone eavesdropping. He didn’t know anybody at the FBI, so he called Detective Finch, the female detective who was handling Lucius Jones’s murder.
When Matt returned to the courtroom the gallery was nearly empty, as there was still almost an hour until the trial resumed. Matt scanned the room for Richmond but didn’t find him. A few moments later they located him talking to the court coordinator. Matt walked up to him.
“We need to talk,” Matt said, trying to hide his desperation.
“About what?” Richmond said.
“About whether you want all your client’s secrets revealed to the news media covering this trial.”
Richmond studied Matt and then replied, “Okay, let’s go into the attorneys’ conference room.”
Matt walked across the courtroom to a door that led to a tiny room with a small conference table. He opened the door for Richmond and then followed him in. They both sat down.
“All right,” Matt said. “I think you can see where I’m going with this case. Bit by bit RMS’s reputation is being trashed, and it’s being reported all over the country.”
“You haven’t proven anything yet. Wait until I put on my case and show the jury your client is just a freeloading deadbeat trying to get rich off RMS.”
Matt sighed. “Give me a break. You’re not going to convince the jury of that. Accusing Cindy of the murder was just a diversion and you know it.”
Richmond started to protest and thought better of it. “So, what do you want?”
“Give her a million, and your client can keep its little foreclosure cash cow from being gutted.”
“A million?” Richmond gasped.
“Yeah, that’s what? A few weeks’ profit?”
Richmond rolled his eyes. “I’ll have to talk to my client.”
“All right. The offer is only good until court reconvenes.”
“What?”
“That’s what I said. It’s now or never. My next witness is going to tell about the profit that is made rehabilitating the properties after they are acquired. Oh, and let’s see—we haven’t fully explored how much is made from the appraisals, inspe
ctions, and attorney’s fees. You haven’t paid referral fees back to Jones, have you?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Good, so you don’t have anything to lose other than, how much in legal fees each year?”
Richmond sighed, got up, and left. Matt followed him out, found Cindy, and brought her back to the conference room.
“What’s up?” she asked curiously.
Matt took a deep breath, not sure what to day. “Well, I wanted to let you know that this is a good time to settle your case.”
“Really? But everything is going so well.”
Matt nodded. “I know. It looks great now, but once Richmond puts on his case and starts trying to prove that you killed Lucius Jones, things could change for the worse in a hurry.”
“Hmm,” Cindy said. “I just have such good feelings about how everything is going.”
“If I could get you a half million dollars, would you take it?”
“A half million?” Cindy said, pondering the thought. “I don’t know. That’s not a lot, considering they killed Tony.”
“Well, I’ve told you it’s unlikely that we can prove RMS caused your husband’s suicide. It’s a very novel idea and not one that can be easily proved. I’m not saying we won’t try, but you should be realistic.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s your decision, of course, but a bird in a hand, you know.”
“Right,” Cindy replied, obviously struggling with the idea of settling.
“I know you’re enjoying me ripping RMS a new asshole, but you’ve got to think about your kids. You don’t have any money and if Richmond gets a couple of jurors to think you had something to do with Jones’s death, you could lose everything.”
“I know,” Cindy said, tears welling in her eyes. “I just hate the idea of them getting away so cheaply.”
“Cheap for them, but a half a million will tide you over until the kids grow up, if you’re prudent with it.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’ll try to get more, but I’m thinking half a million is the most we can expect to get right now.”
Cindy nodded. “Okay. If you think that is best.”
“No. It’s not what I think. It’s your decision. I just want you to know you have a narrow window of opportunity to settle the case right now and avoid losing everything, or if we win, having the judgment appealed and tied up in appellate courts for two or three years.”
“Okay. You’re scaring me now. Go ahead and settle it.”
Matt sighed in relief. “Good. Go ahead back to the counsel table. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Matt sat there awhile, worrying about Candy, wondering where she was, and praying she was okay. He was about to go looking for Richmond when the door flew open and Richmond walked in with a scowl on his face. Matt judged the look to be a good sign.
“So, what did your client say?” Matt asked.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand and not a dime more.”
Matt shook his head in disgust. “Give me a break. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars is all that the future of RMS is worth?”
“That’s our offer, take it or leave it.”
Matt half smiled. Attorneys always relished telling an opponent to take it or leave it, but that was usually a bluff. Matt figured that was the case now.
“Okay. Time is short. The judge will be taking the bench in about two minutes. I’m authorized to go down to $750,000.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“It is? I don’t think so. I think it’s a good deal for your client. You should take it to them—like right now.”
Richmond studied Matt. “This is against my recommendation, but I’m authorized to go to $500,000. But that’s it, and we want an airtight confidentiality agreement signed by your client, and you and Ryan, too.”
The door burst open and the bailiff poked his head in. “The judge is about to take the bench.”
“Thanks,” Matt said, and the bailiff left. “Okay, it’s a deal. Let’s go announce the settlement to the court.”
Matt knew the confidentiality agreement could be a problem, but he’d have to deal with that later. When the judge had taken the bench, Matt rose. “Your Honor.”
The judge looked over at Matt. “Yes, Mr. Coleman?”
“Can we have a sidebar, Your Honor?”
The judge nodded. “Come on up.”
Matt and Richmond walked up the bench. The judge leaned in. “Yes, what is it?”
“Your Honor,” Matt said, “plaintiff and defendant have reached a settlement.”
The judge sat back. “Really?” He looked over at Richmond. “Is this true, Mr. Richmond?”
“Yes, Your Honor. We just reached an agreement during the lunch break.”
“Well. All right. Step back.”
Matt and Richmond went back to their tables, and the judge informed the jury and the gallery that the trial was over. He thanked the jury for their service and told them they hadn’t wasted their time, as their presence had been instrumental in forcing the parties to reach a settlement. One of the jury members asked how much the settlement was for, but the judge explained that the settlement would be confidential. The gallery let out a collective groan of disappointment.
As the judge left the bench, Matt and Ryan followed him out his private entrance, rushed past him to the end of the hallway, opened the door to the stairwell, and went down two stairs at a time. Three minutes later they were tearing out of the courthouse parking garage in their separate cars, Ryan heading for Candy’s place in case she called there and Matt going back to the office. They both had lots to do but nobody could know what they were up to.