He tried to appear upbeat, hopeful, confident that a miracle was on the way. Duties were defined, tasks distributed, responsibilities clarified. Robbie ran through the plans for the week.
Participating by teleconference was a lawyer in Austin, an appellate advocate furnished by the Texas Capital Defender Group. Also present was a lawyer from Amnesty Now, a London-based human rights group that had donated thousands of skilled hours to the Drumm appeals. After fifteen years with Robbie, Aaron knew more law than most seasoned paralegals. At the moment he had no partners-the last had left in a feud that was still tied up in litigation-but there were two associates, two paralegals, three secretaries, and Aaron Rey, who was always close by. Robbie, always on the conspiracy trail, suspected that the Cowboys organization and its network of corporate sponsors somehow pressured Rahmad.īy 8:30, the entire firm had assembled in the conference room, and Robbie called the meeting to order. He suddenly went silent, went into "seclusion," according to his agent, who also explained that the cause was too distracting for the great running back. He would lead a parade so noisy that the state would be forced to back down. He would meet with the governor, the parole board, big business boys, politicians, a couple of rappers he claimed to know well, maybe even some Hollywood types. Rahmad had a distant cousin who'd been executed in Georgia ten years earlier, and he had taken up the cause of Donte Drumm with big plans to enlist other Cowboys and NFL heavyweights to help wave the flag. Three touchdowns."Ī month earlier, Rahmad Preston had been right there, in the conference room, signing autographs and posing for photos. He spoke to Carlos, one of his longtime paralegals, and they spent a few minutes over coffee. Robbie finally left his car and went inside. Someone else was already there, opening up the place, preparing for the week from hell.
The lights came on in the conference room. He planned to move, to sell his real estate, retire, tell Slone and Texas to kiss his ass, and go live in the mountains somewhere, probably in Vermont, where the summers are cool and the state does not kill people. Robbie seriously doubted if he could go on.
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