He handed over the mix. It hurt to chew, but at least the nuts tasted better than green jello.
Leaning back in his chair, he said, “Spencer isn’t going to push charging you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Gravy smiled, “Well, for one thing, Hines had the cell phone of the recently deceased Pandora Childs in his back pocket. The woman was found dead in his condo. If he ever had any doubts, our boy Spencer now knows that Bo ain’t no hero.”
The fog was lifting from my brain. I thought of dozens of holes in whatever story I gave the state attorney’s office. I asked Gravy, “Isn’t Spencer going to want to know how I got on the boat? About these rope burns on my wrists?” I pointed to the stitches on my cheek. “This was caused by Jace’s ring.”
The attorney shook his head and sighed. “I forget sometimes that you aren’t from here. Pensacola likes neat, Walker. Always has, always will. Spencer doesn’t want to run down a lot of rabbit trails. His boss will tell him to close the case and not cause Hines’ grandparents any more pain.”
“What about Frost?” I asked. “Couldn’t he try to take over the investigation?”
“The Herald’s headline calling you a murderer is all he wanted. Any investigation would only clear you.” He took a sip of his beer. “No, the good sheriff thinks he has what he needs to dry up your advertising.”
“So I’m worse off than before the shooting,” I noted.
Gravy said, “Not so sure. You took a tremendous beating and walked away alive. Most people are impressed, and the old guard is a little scared of you. Not a bad combination for an alt-weekly publisher. The Insider won over many more supporters than Frost and Peck can pull away from you. Your next issue will fly off the stands, and advertisers will be begging to be in the newspaper.”
He ordered another drink and looked at my injuries. “Damn, you must have driven him mad.”
I didn’t respond and looked off in the distance. The muscular bartender was reading the Herald. He looked in my direction. Recognizing me, he gave me a thumbs up.
I said, “So what do I say Monday?”
“Nothing until we get a use immunity agreement.”
The pretty green-eyed waitress with long, blonde curly hair brought more beer to the table. “This Jack and coke is on Barry,” she said motioning towards the bartender. “He said he’s a fan. Are you someone famous?”
Gravy said, “Yes, he’s an MMA fighter.”
“Could I have your autograph?” she asked me.
I showed her my heavily-bandaged right hand. “Maybe another time.”
Disappointed, she headed back to the bar. I heard Barry’s laugh when she shared what had happened.
“What does ‘use immunity’ mean?”
“You can tell your story, and they can’t use any of your words against you in court,” said Gravy.
I said, “And they will believe it was self-defense.”
“Yes.”
Dare walked up as we were finishing. She had Big Boy with her. Wearing a yellow sundress and matching sandals, she sat down in between us. The dog licked my bandaged hand and sat down under the table next to my feet. His wagging tail tapped on my legs.
“I figured we would find you two in a bar,” she said smiling. She asked the waitress to bring her a glass of Chardonnay and a bowl of water for Big Boy. I figured Gravy must have texted her our location.
“I’m heading out,” Gravy said as he got up. “I’ll have the bar keep the tab open for you.”
He kissed Dare on the cheek and turned to me, “I’ll pick you up for breakfast at eight and then take you to Spencer’s office.”
Dare asked Gravy, “Is he okay?”
“He’s about as okay as Walker Holmes can ever be,” he said.
Dare looked at me a long time before she said anything. “Take those sunglasses off,” she said. “I want to see your eyes.”
She winced when I dropped my disguise. “Oh, Walker, Bo did this to you?”
I nodded and looked away. The waitress was reading the Herald article. She played with her curls, and her lips moved as she scanned each word.
“Why?” asked Dare.
I lied to her, something I swore I would never do. I would tell part of the truth, but not all.
“Bo stole the money from the Arts Council. When he learned Childs might talk to me, he killed her and lured me on his boat,” I said.
Dare was owed answers. It was my turn to be interrogated.
She said, “I don’t understand why Jace and Julie were on the boat if Bo planned to kill you.”
I said, “Hines had convinced his brother-in-law that they could negotiate with me and get me to back off.”
“They should have known better,” said Dare. “Why Julie?”
I lied, “I don’t know. Too busy dodging fists.”
She said, “And you killed Bo in self-defense.”
“Yes, he waved the gun at me. I grabbed it, and it fired twice,” I said. “It’s a little hazy. The doctor says I have a concussion.”
Dare nodded her head. She wanted more details but wouldn’t get them from me.
“Bo was a murderer, Dare,” I said. “I think he killed Celeste Daniels and Pandora Childs and would have killed me if he could have gotten Jace and Julie drunk enough to pass out.”
She said, “Celeste Daniels? The cold case you wrote about on your blog?”
I nodded. “He all but admitted the girl’s murder because she had dumped him, and his screwed-up ego couldn’t handle rejection. As far as Childs, Gravy said the police found her cell phone on Hines’ body. Plus, she died in his condo.”
She asked, “Will all this come out?”
“Probably not, no evidence on the Daniels’ murder and not enough to conclusively pin Childs’ death on Hines.”
She said, “Jace heard Bo. He could testify on your behalf.”
“On the advice of legal counsel, the Wittmans aren’t making statements.” I really wanted to take a sip of the Jack and coke, but I finished off the last
