Bourbon & Branch Water Read Online Free Page A

realized
that Stormy had been law clerking in Fire Gorge for several months before
getting the promotion. Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter in the long run.
    Stormy wondered if the woman was
going to let her in, but she offered her hand to Ella and gave her a warm
smile.
    “Mrs. Porterman ,
you might remember me from Holyfield, Ramus and Fyne .
I’m Stormy Stillwater.”
    “I remember you.” She stepped back
a bit. “Come in. You’re letting the cool air out.”
    “Of course,” Stormy squeezed by
Ella and tried not to be intimidated. Russell Porterman came into the modest living room from somewhere in the back of the house. Everything
in the room was crisp and tidy. It hardly looked lived in, it was so clean and fresh.
    “Ah,” he said, with a pleasant
smile, “our new attorney, come in and sit down.” He glanced over at his wife. “Ella,
maybe you can bring in some iced tea. It’s mighty hot out there.” Russ
Stillwater was a little mussed, with dirt on his work boots and denim overalls.
    “If you’re thirsty, Russ, you can
get it yourself. I’m sure Miss Stillwater is fine.”
    Stormy would have loved some tea,
but she kept that to herself. “Yes, I’m fine.” She sat where Russell had
indicated, and put her briefcase in her lap. The couple sat down in
fussy-looking chintz-upholstered chairs, and looked at her expectantly.
    Stormy addressed Mr. Porterman . “I’m Stormy Stillwater, sir. You might remember
me. I was present when you were talking with Mr. Holyfield in Fire Gorge.”
    “Oh yes.” His face told her that he
remembered her. “We were expecting you, weren’t we, Ella?”
    “Actually,” the older woman
replied, “I was hoping Mr. Holyfield had reconsidered and would handle this
himself. Maybe we ought to try to find someone in Las Vegas.”
    Porterman frowned, “you know we can’t afford that, Ella.” He addressed Stormy, “naturally,
we’re interested in having the best representation we can afford. Mr. Holyfield
spoke well of you. I’m confident you’ll stay on top of the matter.”
    He trusted her, a warm flush of
pride through Stormy’s chest. She was bound and
determined to win this case for the Portermans , even
if she didn’t much like the Missus.
    Ella snorted derisively at her
husband’s trusting attitude, “we’ll see.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Stormy’s discomfort returned in the face of Ella’s chilly behavior. She opened her
briefcase and took out her notepad. “I know what your complaint is, I think.
Please tell me if I’ve got any of the facts wrong.” Addressing her notes,
Stormy went on. “One: your neighbors, Leland and Nancy Randolph, requested a
license from the county to begin a bourbon distillery on their property. Two:
that distillery was going to use water from Cicada Creek, the nearby offshoot
of the Little Moapa. Three: You lodged a complaint with the county, alleging
that since the Randolphs ranch is upstream from you,
they’d be polluting the creek with their discharge water causing you financial
loss. And four: you further complained that it was a civic irresponsibility to launch
a liquor manufacturing facility in the county, and that it would encourage the
local population to bad behavior and alcohol dependency.” Stormy hadn’t been
fooled for a minute about who the “local population” the suit mentioned was. It
was the nearby Paiutes. It was ignorant and bigoted, but Stormy still had a job
to do. One of the things she had to do was get the Portermans to drop that part of their suit. It was a spurious complaint at best.
    Ella spoke up. “Yes, those are our
concerns, what can you do about them?”
    Stormy got out her pen and fussed
with her notepad. She was so uncomfortable with this woman. Be professional,
she told herself. Take charge. “Well, you can certainly sue for the
environmental concerns about the water. There is some precedence for it. I
think we have enough to work with on that.” She took a deep breath and looked
from