Page 60 of Backwater Justice
“Sure thing!”
And a few more voices chimed in.
Fergus ended the call with his usual, “Mind as you go.”
“Steady on,” Charles said. Then he looked at Myra. “And you and I shall have a little chat later, love.” His camera went black, and all that was left was the statue of Lady Liberty, waiting for her salutation.
When the meeting was over, Annie ordered dinner for everyone. Chicken, salmon, pasta, salad. The works.
“I’ll drop my things off at the apartment tomorrow and check in with Jessica. See if I can glean a little more insight before I head to Eugene,” Isabelle said.
“You going to spend the night there?” Kathryn asked.
“It will depend on what I find out. I may want to get the full picture. Day and night activity.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Myra said.
“Do you think it’s safe for Isabelle to go down there alone? I mean, we have no idea what she might be walking into.” Again, Maggie with the inquisitive and calculating mind.
“Maybe there will be a last-minute short-run?” Kathryn suggested.
“How do we pull that off?” Isabelle queried.
“I will simply place an order that needs to be delivered the same day,” Annie said. “I shall do it first thing.”
“Okay, but where is it going to be delivered?” Kathryn asked.
Annie typed something into her computer. She scrolled down a bit. “Bingo. There is a house being built for a veteran near Eugene. I am sure they can use some extra materials.”
“How did you find that?” Kathryn asked.
“I remembered a story about a disabled veteran who was evicted because of Eminent Domain. A big developer came in and had the land condemned, leaving the man without a place to live. A local church donated a piece of property and got some group funding.”
“Wow. That would make a great story,” Maggie said.
“It was. And you did,” Annie reminded her.
“Oh my gosh, you’re right. It was part of a bigger story about organizations helping displaced veterans who weren’t getting help from the V.A.”
“You sure helped give them a black eye,” Annie said.
“Well, they deserved it. Remember when my Aunt Sophie applied for spousal support after my Uncle Richard passed away? The V.A. dragged it on for a year and a half. We filled out almost thirty pages of paperwork and certificates, they confirmed receipt, but then every month, they said they were missing page whatever.”
“Did they call you to tell you?” Kathryn asked.
“No. I kept calling every month to ask for updates, and that’s when they would tell me they needed something else. This went on for months. No joke. I finally wrote to her congressman and got a phone call that same day from his aide. She asked me to fax her a couple of the pages, and within six weeks, we had a year and a half’s worth of spousal support.” Maggie took a breath. “It was retroactive.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“That’s when Maggie came to me and asked if she could do a story about the V.A. and interview some of the men and women who fought for our country and were now being ignored.”
“You should have gotten a Pulitzer for that piece,” Myra said.
Maggie almost gagged from laughing. “It was a good piece, but it wasn’t earth-shattering. Others have exposed worse conditions. That’s what the Goldsmith Prize is for: exposing poor government. Besides, I had an ax to grind.”
“Well, good on you for covering it,” Isabelle said. “But you really didn’t remember?”
“It was several years ago. Before this.” She made a circle with her finger, pointing to everyone. “Lots of stuff has happened since.”
“And more to come,” Annie said at a knock on the door.