“Just getting some air.”
“What, ain’t no air in this house?”
“Different kind of air.”
“And the stairs don’t work for you?”
“Just my way of exercising.”
“Uh-huh. You gettin’ yourself in some trouble, Will Robie?”
“Not if I can help it.”
He got in his car and drove off.
And that was when he heard the sirens.
As he neared the main road into town a fire truck flashed past him. Then another. Behind that was a police car and behind that an ambulance.
Robie was going to turn right to head to town. Instead he turned left and followed this posse of emergency vehicles.
Twenty minutes later he saw thick, black smoke billowing up from behind a forest of trees. Ten minutes after that the squad of emergency vehicles roared through the gates of the Clancy estate. The smoke was so thick that Robie, as he pulled his car to a stop on the other side of the road, couldn’t see much past the gates.
A few minutes later he heard the rush of water as the firefighters combated the blaze. The police car had blocked the entrance to the house, moving only when another fire truck pulled in to join the effort.
Robie got out of his car and leaned against the front fender.
A minute later another cop car pulled up and Sheila Taggert climbed out. First she looked at Robie and snapped, “You keep your butt right there, Will Robie.”
Then she hustled across the street to the other police unit. The cop there rolled down his window and they spoke for a bit. Then she walked back over to Robie.
“What in the Sam Hill are you doin’ here?” she said, getting right in his face.
“I was driving past and saw what was going on. Whose house is it?”
“Why do I think you already know whose house it is?”
“Because you have an overly suspicious mind, maybe?”
“It’s the Clancy estate. What’s left of it.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“Don’t know yet. And when I find out I won’t be tellin’ you. You can hear it through the gossip lines like everybody else ’round here.”
“Know the cause yet?”
“Same answer to your last damn question.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be heading on.”
She gripped his arm. “Robie, anything you need to be tellin’ me?”
“If I think of something, you’ll be the first to know, Deputy Taggert.”
He drove off, checked his rearview once, and saw her staring after him.
He knew one person he had to talk to. And hoped that she would keep it confidential.
If there was such a thing as confidential in a place like Cantrell, Mississippi.
Chapter
32
ARE YOU A damn fool or what?”
Toni Moses was staring up incredulously at Robie from her desk.
He had just finished telling her what had happened.
The lawyer’s reaction had been reasonably predictable.
“I’m not sure what else I could have done,” he countered.
“How about callin’ 911? How’s that for a damn plan?”
“Didn’t seem like the best idea at the time, for a lot of reasons.”
Her mouth curled to a frown. “You have put me in a precarious position. And I do not like to be put in precarious positions. I put others in them. Others do not do that to me. Particularly someone workin’ for me. I specifically told you to do nothin’ to jeopardize my case!”
“Well, since you’re not paying me I’m not sure technically that I am working for you.”
She rose, barely coming up to his chest. “Are you tryin’ to split legal hairs with me? Seriously? ’Cuz I will whip your ass in a New York minute.”
“Look, the point is, there are other people out there with a great motive to kill Sherman Clancy.”
“But you don’t know who they are?”
“We can find out.”
“And you let Pete get away. He could tell us all about it.”
“We can find him.”
She sat back down. “I need to think about this, Robie. I need to really think this through.”
“But you don’t have to tell Aubrey Davis, do you?”
“I might very well. Crimes were committed. Folks tried to kill Pete and you.”
“And someone set fire to the house.”
“I heard about that a little bit ago. You think it’s the same folks?”
“I didn’t kill any of them. They had to get out at some point. And if they wanted to cover their tracks or destroy anything incriminating, that would be one way to do it.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “So you overcame three armed men all by yourself?”
“I got the drop on them. No telling how far a little luck will carry you.”
“Well, when your luck runs out they might just be carryin’ you to a grave.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He held up the flash drive. “I downloaded everything that looked material and relevant.”
“And got that by breakin’ and enterin’, a crime in Mississippi and everywhere else in the civilized world. Doubt it’ll be admissible. Tainted fruit, as they say.”
“But even so, maybe we can use it to reach the truth.”
“Are you dead set on gittin’ on my last nerve?”
“Not my intent.”
“Who do you think these men were with?” she asked.
“They seemed to be business partners of Sherman Clancy.”
“So the Rebel Yell casino then?”
Robie shrugged. “Unless he had other businesses. And partners.”
“I’ve heard stories.”
“Like what exactly?”
“That this particular casino makes a lot more money than other casinos do.”
“And how do they do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Drugs, guns, human traffickin’? We got all those things down here.”
“And the police don’t know about this?”
“If they do, they’re not doin’ much to stop it.”
“Why?”
“Mostly because of jobs. The Rebel Yell Entertainment Company has three casinos, two resorts, a theme park, and other business interests includin’ film and TV projects. It employs over three thousand hardworkin’ Mississippians. One of the top employers in the state, in fact.”
“And it doesn’t matter if part of what they’re doing is illegal?”
“Provin’ it would be difficult. Havin’ the desire to prove it appears to be impossible. You shut them down, you got a lot of folks without work. And the state already has enough of those.”
“But I can tell you’ve done your homework on them.”
“I know lawyers who work for them. Folks I respect.”
“And what do they tell you?”
“Exactly what I would expect. Nothin’. They make good money, they do their work, they go home to their families, and they keep their mouths shut.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“I didn’t say it didn’t bother me. But I can understand it. Lots of companies do bad things. Tobacco manufacturers pollutin’ our lungs, coal and oil companies pollutin’ our land and air, food manufacturers pollutin’ the stuff we eat. Assholes on Wall Street stealin’ us blind and buyin’ five yachts and four jets with the proceeds and laughin’ all the way to the proverbial bank as the anointed one-tenth of one percenters. Most of what they do is legal because they paid off the lawmakers to make it legal. But some of it’s not. But they got money and jobs and lawyers and lobbyists and politicians in their pockets, and so nobody touches them. Same with the good folks at the Rebel Yell. Welcome to America, Mr. Robie, where the only thing that’s really fair is the color of most of these folks’ skin.”
“Okay. I think I get the picture.”
“Do they know who you are?”
“They will by now. And they’l
l be coming for me.”
“What are you goin’ to do about that?”
“Be ready for when they do,” he said.
She sat and steepled her hands. “Can I ask what it is exactly that you do for a livin’?”
“You can ask,” replied Robie.
“But you can’t say?”
“Look at the files on the flash drive and tell me what you think. I’m going to see my father.”
“What are you goin’ to tell him?”
“The truth. And in return I hope he does the same.”
* * *
Taggert wasn’t at the jail, so Robie was escorted back by the same deputy who had run him through the metal detector previously.
His father was sitting on his bunk. And this time he did not attack his son.
Robie leaned against the wall and in calm, succinct sentences explained to the man what had happened last night. When he was done, Dan Robie didn’t say anything for several minutes. To his son it seemed his father was thinking through every possible scenario, like he had first as a Marine, and then as a lawyer.
Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “They’re goin’ to want to kill you for what you did.”
“I assume so.”
“There’s no assumption about it,” said Dan Robie sharply.
“Do you know these people?”
“The Rebel Yell? Not really.”
“Toni Moses thinks they’re into illegal stuff.”
“Could be,” said his father. “Lots of that goin’ around.”
“Which means that they have a great motive for killing Sherman Clancy. After what I heard last night it seems to me that they’re the prime suspect.”
“Good luck provin’ that.”
Robie cocked his head. “We don’t have to prove it. We just have to use it to cast reasonable doubt. Then you don’t get convicted. Isn’t that legally the way it works?”
“Legally, yes. Practically, no.”
“Explain that to me.”
“I get off on what folks round here will conclude was a technicality. They’ll still assume I killed the man because my wife slept with him.”
“Since when do you care what people think?”
“I do care what people in Cantrell think, because it is my home. They are my neighbors. They are my friends.”
“Your real friends wouldn’t believe you could kill anyone.”
“Would your ‘real friends’ believe that you couldn’t kill anyone?” his father shot back.
“No,” admitted Robie. They would know better, he thought.
“So you’re saying that you want conclusive proof of your innocence to come out of all this. Which means you did not kill Sherman Clancy.”
“I never said I did kill him.”
“But you never said you didn’t. And while we’re on the subject, was it you driving the Range Rover that night?”
“How is Ty doin’?” his father asked.
Robie took a deep breath and held it before letting it go. He had to remind himself that he could not get it all done today or tomorrow or the next day. Small steps, like executing a mission. You check off one box and then the next. And then the next.
“Seems to be holding up. Victoria said she was bringing him to see you.”
For the first time Robie saw distress in his father’s eyes.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
His father barked, “I don’t have to explain anythin’ to you. I don’t even know why the hell you’re here.”
Robie pushed off the wall. “I’ve got things to do. Anything you need?”
His father started to say something but then shook his head and looked away.
“I didn’t hurt your arm, did I?” asked Robie.
“About as much as I hurt your face, so not much.”
Robie turned to go.
“Watch out for those casino boys,” said Dan Robie.
He turned back around, but his father still wasn’t looking at him.
“I will,” said Robie.
Chapter
33
WHEN ROBIE LEFT the jail they were waiting for him.
“Agent Wurtzburger,” he said, nodding at the FBI agent and two of his men, who were sitting in the vehicle parked next to Robie’s.
“We need to talk,” said Wurtzburger.
“Do we?” said Robie. “I said I’d call if I had anything to tell you. And I don’t.”
“We received a call about you from DC. Would you rather talk about it in the privacy of our car or do it right here in the open?”
Robie gave the three men a searching look and then climbed into the backseat of the sedan.
“What call?” asked Robie.
“From a sister agency that does not officially operate domestically.”
Robie did not react to this externally, but the term son of a bitch floated across his thoughts.
“To do with me?”
“To do with you specifically. They didn’t go into detail, but it was clear that you are a valuable asset that they do not want to see damaged or worse. I told my superiors that I would do my best, but that I could hardly guarantee your safety unless I got you to leave town or locked you up somewhere.”
Wurtzburger looked back at Robie from the front seat. “And I gather you would not be amenable to either of those options.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“My superiors were also told that if we tried to force you to do so we had better bring in several teams of special agents loaded for bear, or it would ultimately be a losing proposition for us.”
To this Robie said nothing.