Chapter 7: What the Attorney Said
Her name was Claire.
She answered on the third ring, sounding like someone who had already been at her desk for an hour.
I told her everything in eleven minutes.
I timed it without meaning to — the same amount of time I'd been in the store.
She didn't interrupt once.
When I finished, she said: "Send me the recording."
"Right now?"
"Right now.
And the screenshots of every text.
Every number.
Timestamps on all of it."
I put her on hold and sent everything while Dan made more tea neither of us would drink.
When I came back, she said: "Okay.
Here's where you are."
"Tell me."
"The text messages — *think about your family* — that's potentially criminal harassment.
Depending on the state, it may also meet the threshold for criminal threatening.
It's not a slam dunk, but it's not nothing."
"And the call?"
"The call is better," she said.
"He referenced your husband's work permits.
He said projects get held up.
He connected that directly to the situation with you.
That is textbook intimidation of a witness or complainant — and depending on how a DA reads it, it could be construed as an attempt to interfere with a protected activity."
"Which activity?"
"Speaking publicly about a public official."
I sat down.
"He's an elected official," Claire said.
"That cuts both ways.
It makes him more visible and more accountable.
He does not get to call a constituent at home and hint at permit delays because she posted something on Facebook.
That is not how public service works."
"What do we do?" Dan said.
He was leaning toward the phone.
"First, you don't take the post down.
Not for any reason.
Taking it down now would look like an admission that it was wrong to post it, and it wasn't.
Second, you file a police report today.
Not because the police will necessarily act immediately, but because you need a paper trail.
Third —" she paused — "I want to make some calls."
"To who?" I said.
"I know someone at the local paper.
Not the TV station — the paper.
They cover the council closely.
They've been watching Patton for a while."
"Watching him for what?"
"I can't say yet.
But when I tell you they've been watching him, I mean they have a file."
The kitchen was very quiet again.
"Claire," I said.
"What's in the file?"
"I don't know the details.
But I know they've been looking at him since the zoning complaint three years ago.
Apparently she wasn't the only one."
I thought about what Maria had said.
Two women in Facebook groups.
The same pattern.
He approaches.
He comments.
He corrects.
When they react, he says they misunderstood.
"How many?" I said.
"I don't know," Claire said.
"That's what I want to find out."
After we hung up, Dan and I sat at the kitchen table for a long time without speaking.
Nora woke up and I fed her there at the table, the flannel open, nobody watching.
At noon, Maria called.
"The post has been shared four hundred times," she said.
"The news station wants to do a segment.
And someone just messaged me."
"Who?"
"A woman named Diane.
She says she met Gerald Patton at a town hall two years ago." Maria's voice was careful.
"She says he told her she was dressed inappropriately for a public meeting."
I closed my eyes.
"She's not the only one messaging," Maria said.
"There are three others."
"How many total?"
"So far?
Five women.
Including you."
I opened my eyes and looked at the window.
The afternoon light was coming through at an angle, hitting the counter, making everything look very ordinary and very still.
"Tell them to save everything," I said.
"Every message.
Every memory.
Every detail they can put in writing."
"Already did," Maria said.
"And Maria —"
"Yeah."
"Tell them they're not alone."
May you like
She was quiet for a moment.
"I already told them that too," she said.
