'Are you sure?'
He handed me the keys. 'Of course. You're only driving across town.'
'Thanks.' I walked rapidly to the library. I didn't want to run into Zach or Mr. Carpenter. All I needed was the folder containing copies of the newspaper clippings. It was time to find out whether Moses' memory, like Mrs. Fairmont's, could be unlocked by a picture. I opened the library door. Julie was sitting at the table.
'Any success?' she asked.
'Not yet,' I answered quickly. 'I'm going to the jail to talk to Moses Jones. The date of trial hasn't been set, but I've got to start getting ready.'
'Are you going to ask more questions about the Prescott girl?'
'Maybe.'
Julie placed a book on top of the papers stacked in front of her.
'I'm going with you. You'll need a witness of what he tells you.'
'That's unnecessary,' I answered, trying to stay calm. 'You should be working on your own cases.'
'Not if I need to help you. Besides, we can take my car.'
'Vince is loaning me his car.'
Julie's eyes widened. 'When are you going to move into his apartment?'
I felt a flash of heat across my entire body and an overwhelming urge to yell at her. I closed my eyes to fight it off.
'Okay, I'm sorry,' Julie said. 'I keep forgetting that you don't share my sense of humor.'
'And I don't need your help.'
Julie held up her hands. 'Don't be so touchy. But you can't trust your judgment when you're so upset about everything.'
'I'm not upset about everything. Just your crude comment.'
'You're wrong about that.' Julie held up her right hand and pointed at her fingers. 'You're upset with Mr. Carpenter because his questions scare you, mad at Zach because he doesn't agree with you all the time, and tired of me teasing you. I don't know for sure, but I also suspect Gerry Patrick and Bob Kettleson have gotten under your skin. To top it all off, you're frustrated by everything that's been happening in the Jones case. Judge Cannon and the assistant DA are blocking you at every turn, and you don't see a way out. If it weren't for your iron will, you'd be close to cracking.'
Julie sat back in her chair with a self-satisfied look on her face. My mother couldn't have done a better job of dissecting my struggles.
'Maybe you should have gotten a PhD in psychology,' I replied as evenly as I could, 'but I still don't want you to go to the jail with me.'
'Suit yourself. But I'm here if you need me.'
I picked up my folder and left. The midday heat had driven out the effects of the air-conditioning left from our drive to lunch. I turned the fan motor on high. Backing out of the parking space, I heard the sound of a horn and slammed on the brakes. Turning my head, I saw Mr. Braddock behind me in his silver Mercedes. He shook his head and smiled. I said a quick prayer of thanks that I'd not hit his car, but all the way to the jail couldn't get the look on his face out of my mind. How could a man with such deep-seated evil living within his soul smile and wave? The Old Testament prophet was right when he wrote that the heart of man was deceitfully wicked above all else, who can fathom it?
Arriving at the jail, I identified myself to the female deputy on duty and asked to see Moses. I waited in the open area outside the interview rooms until he appeared, escorted by a corrections officer who looked as young as my brother Kyle. We went into an interview room.
'Hello, Mr. Jones,' I said as the door closed with a low thud.
'Yes, missy,' he replied as we sat down across from each other. 'I be worrying that you forgot about Moses and going to leave him in this place to die.'
'No sir, I've been working hard. Your case will be coming up for trial sometime in the next few weeks. I don't know the exact date, but as soon as I do, I'll be here to let you know. There's a chance we will have a different judge.'
'That may be help.' The old black man nodded. 'But I not know what I'm going to say.'
'We'll practice going over your testimony until you know everything I'm going to ask you,' I replied with more confidence than I felt. 'You can't deny tying up your boat at private docks for the night, but we'll let the jury know that you didn't realize it was private property.'
'That river, it belong to God who made it.'
'Yes, I understand and agree, but that's not our best argument. An innocent mistake on your part will be easier to explain, and we'll also be sure to produce evidence that you didn't damage anyone's property or scare the landowners. Ignorance of the law isn't usually a legal excuse, but the jury can find you not guilty if they think you had an honest misunderstanding. Does that make sense?'
Moses shook his head. 'No, missy. You be talking and talking.'
'That's okay for now. We'll go over everything and break it down so you can follow.'
I laid the folder with the newspaper clippings on the table. When I did, I felt my heart beat a little faster. I cleared my throat. Moses ran his tongue across the most prominent tooth in the front of his mouth.
'Moses, I have something else to show you.' I opened the folder and took out the initial article about Lisa Prescott's disappearance. It contained the largest version of the photograph that ran in all the subsequent articles. I slid the sheet across the table and turned it so Moses could see it.
'Do you recognize this girl?' I asked.
He lowered his head closer to the table and tilted it to the side. 'She be dead,' he said in a soft voice after a few moments. 'Where you get this?'
'It's a copy of an old newspaper article. Is this the girl whose face you see in the water?'
Still staring down, he nodded. I leaned forward. 'Why do you see her face in the water?' I asked.
Moses let out a long sigh that slightly whistled as it passed through his teeth. ''Cause that's where she be,' he said softly.
'How did she get there?' I asked, trying to stay calm.
'There weren't nothing else I could do.'
I sat back in my chair. Moses looked at me and blinked his eyes. The old man was about to cry. I'd seen many confessions with tears at the altar of the church in Powell Station, but none that involved a murder.
'Do you want to tell me?'
He put his weathered hands on the table and closed his eyes. 'I go fishing. Not in that boat chained to the pole out back, but in an old wooden thing that leaked termite-bad. I be minding my own self when I heated the sound on the bank. I thought it must be a hurt critter and rowed over to see for myself. It be getting dark, but I seen a piece of yellow scrap that caught my eye. I touched the bank and hopped onto the ground. I heard another sound. The bushes were thick, and I got cut bad getting to her.'
He opened his eyes and pointed to a two-inch scar on his forehead. 'I be bleeding bad my own self by the time I got to her. She was a-hurtin' and bleeding here and here.'
The old man pointed to his mouth and ears. 'Her eyes be open, but not seeing nothing.'
He stopped and bowed his head. I could tell he was slipping completely into silent memory and pulled him back.
'Was she alive?' I asked.
He looked up. 'She be breathing. I run up the bank to an old dirty road, but no one there 'cause it way out in the country. I yell and holler. No help be coming. I go back and pick up that girl. She not much heavier than an old blanket. I put her in my boat. We both bleeding together. I row down the river as fast as I could go. It be getting darker and darker. I get to the big water so I can get her to the bridge for the hardscape road to town. Cars be there for sure. I put down my ear to listen.' He shook his head. 'And she be gone.'
'She fell into the water?'
'No, missy. She be dead.'
'Did you take the body to town?'
Moses shook his head. 'I be black; she be white. We both be bleeding. What happen to me if'n I carry her to town? That night I be hanging by my neck from a tree with nobody asking no more questions.'
