Bone Valley

Bone Valley

by Claire Matturro

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780061969966
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date: 03/17/2009
Series: Lilly Cleary , #3
Sold by: HARPERCOLLINS
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 336
File size: 633 KB

About the Author

A former appellate attorney and former member of the writing faculty at Florida State University College of Law and the University of Oregon School of Law, Claire Hamner Matturro lives in Georgia.

Read an Excerpt

Bone Valley


By Claire Matturro

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2006 Claire Matturro
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0060773243

Chapter One

The practice of law is best performed by lunatics. That way, they don't mind that much of the law is lunacy.

For example, in Florida, insulting an orange can land you in court.

One may be sued for defaming a little, round fruit. Sued and required to pay money. If not to the orange grower suing you, then certainly to the lawyer defending you.

I, Lillian Belle Rose Cleary, defense lawyer, sat in my office at Smith, O'Leary, and Stanley in Sarasota, with the Florida statutes book opened to section 865.065, titled "Disparagement of perishable agricultural food products," and tried to absorb the concept of fruit libel. As I read, my putative new client, Angus John Cartright, a rough-and-ready young man wearing jeans and cowboy boots, sat across from me whistling what sounded like a slow version of "The Yellow Rose of Texas."

Because I didn't like what I was reading in the statutes, I put down the law book and picked up a copy of the complaint filed against Angus John, a legal document that said he had willfully and wantonly and maliciously given speeches in which he claimed certain, specific oranges "glowed in the dark" and were unsafe to eat.

"Is this true?" I asked, holding up the complaint. "I mean, that you said all this about these orangesbeing too dangerous to eat?"

"Yes." He had stopped whistling and stared at me with big, hazel eyes.

"The complaint also alleges you did so without having any reliable evidence to support your claims. Did you have any scientific studies to back up your statements?"

"It's a matter of common sense."

Oh, so, okay, in other words, no. Well, as much as Angus John's admission of the key facts in the complaint against him might simplify drafting an answer and pursuing discovery, it didn't make his case too enticing to defend. I mean, where's the fun in litigation if the did/did-not spat wasn't there at the get-go to run up thousands of dollars in attorney's fees arguing about who said or didn't say what, not to mention revving up that dog and pony show before a jury.

"The plaintiff is suing you because you publicly said its oranges were--"

"I have an absolute First Amendment right to speak my mind," Angus John said, and then grinned big, as if he'd just told me a small joke, which, in a way, I guess he had. "They can't sue me."

Okay, so spank me, I'm no constitutional scholar or anything, but I've been a lawyer for over a decade and one of the lessons I've learned is that there are no absolute rights. Especially absolute First Amendment rights.

Just as I was fortifying myself to explain the underlying basic premise of the American litigation system to Angus, that being that anyone with the $250 filing fee can sue anybody else, I heard an insistent tapping of fingernails on glass. Angus and I both turned to stare out my office window, which looks out on our back parking lot since my office is on the first floor, in the back corner, right by the exit.

A thin, older man grinned through the glass panes.

I sighed. Jimmie Rodgers, my handyman, the man who had single-handedly and largely on his hands and knees restored my home's terrazzo floors to their former glory, rebuilt my back porch after one of those hurricanes, and done countless other home projects, all working roughly at an inch of progress and two bottles of wine an hour. He liked to quote poetry of all kinds to me, and had slipped me small paperbacks of poets I'd never heard of who wrote stuff I didn't understand. Then Jimmie would explain it all to me over a couple of bottles of wine. He was, of late, particularly fond of Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath, and could recite long poems about suicide by either or both of them at length and by memory. This explained why he was erratically employed. The man does good work, but don't hire him if you're in a hurry, or a hard-shell Baptist, or don't like poetry.

Jimmie tapped and grinned and I made my face form a kind of smile back. On top of being my handyman, he was also my client in what I considered the stupidest case of my entire career.

Ignoring my orange-defaming potential client, I jumped from my chair and aimed myself for the back door to let Jimmie in.

When Jimmie came into my office, he smelled a bit gamey, but before I could say much to him about washing up before his court appearances, he beamed, hugged me, said a quick, "Hey, Lady," then took center stage in my office. Spreading his arms wide, he said in a singsongy voice: " 'I danced through the shards with no visible wound. The night I risked tequila and Seconal to stop you both, I woke.' "

Great, another suicidal poet.

"That's from this book"--Jimmie pulled a beat-up chapbook from a pocket in his baggy painter's pants--"I found at Brant's Used Books on Brown Avenue. Only paid a quarter for it."

Angus John made a production of standing up and grinning and offering his hand. But Jimmie, caught up as he was with poetry and gift giving, didn't fully focus on Angus and thrust the book at me. "It's for you, Lady."

Politeness required me to take the used book, but I tried to hold it with my fingernails as if it were hot, and I made a quick memo to my internal file to disinfect my hands as soon as possible and to put the book somewhere safe, like a trash can.

Angus, having been ignored by both Jimmie and me, cleared his throat. I was too busy trying not to actually touch the book I was now holding to acknowledge Angus, and Jimmie apparently hadn't yet realized someone else was already in my office.

Continues...


Excerpted from Bone Valley by Claire Matturro Copyright © 2006 by Claire Matturro. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Bone Valley 4.5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 4 reviews.
NewsieQ on LibraryThing 6 months ago
Lilly Cleary is defending a client who libeled an orange -- yes, an orange, she practices in Florida after all. And she's helping an elderly not-so-handy man , Jimmie, from a bogus accident claim. The orange libeler is an environmental activist who's drawing attention to "gyp piles," toxic by-products that threaten to pollute the water supply. Jimmy winds up living with Lilly, as does a bird who's being rehabilitated. Then there's her attorney fiancé AND a hunky friend of the orange-libeler to contend with ... and a murder. All-in-all, Lilly is finding she has less time for her medical malpractice cases, in which she typically defends doctors. Bone Valley was an OK mystery, one which Floridians and environmentalist will especially like. In fact, I'm giving it to my friend Sue, who is both (at least she's a snowbird if that counts as a Floridian).Review based on publisher-provided copy of the book.03/29/2010
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Guest More than 1 year ago
Lilly Cleary is an author in Sarasota, Florida. Normally her cases are medical malpractice. She is asked to defend Angus and Miguel in a fruit libeling case. Their claim is that phosphate mining residue was mixed into the soil in an orange grove thus infecting the oranges. M. David Mooney, Lilly¿s ex-boyfriend, is killed in a toxic waste lake. She soon finds he is tied to her current case as well. When one of her clients is blown up in front of her, she sets out to find the killer. She¿s not sure whether she can trust the gorgeous Miguel. Can she unravel this case without putting herself in danger? She enlists the aid of her wild religious brother and her handyman is also quite involved. This is the first I¿ve read in this series. It definitely won¿t be the last. I really enjoyed Lilly. The writer has created a wonderful protagonist and the Sarasota location is great too! Lilly is an attorney I¿d love to have in my corner. She¿s a bit quirky, but she cares a lot and gets to the bottom of things. I highly recommend this book.
harstan More than 1 year ago
Sarasota, Florida Attorney Lilly Cleary suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder that either drives people crazy except for those who benefit from her hyperactive sex drive or are the clients she defends at an incredible pace. Lilly agrees to legally represent environmental activist Angus John Cartwright, who is being sued by a Sunshine State orange grower for libel. The suit states that Angus John and his partner disparaged oranges with unfound claims of toxicity caused by pollution. Angus hides from Lilly that his partner is her weird former boyfriend, M. David Moody as she would not have taken on the case. However, not long afterward, M. Donald is found dead in a toxic waste lake in Manatee County. Following that death, Angus dies in an explosion. Lilly thinks she also is on the list of someone who is systematically making their opposition extinct. --- In her third zany appearance (see WILDCAT WINE and SKINNY-DIPPING), Claire¿s energy and enthusiasm provides a humorous counterpoint to a deep whodunit. However, the star of Claire Matturro¿s latest legal thriller is the geography as the audience obtains a deep frightening look at a global environmental problem as represented by Florida's BONE VALLEY where mounds of phosphogypsum causes harm to people. The story line is action-packed as the case twists from a legal matter to a self preservation scenario. Still with a strong investigation and a wonderful wacky heroine, the environment rules in this eye opening cautionary thriller. --- Harriet Klausner