“Sounds like Noah,” I said. “You tell a boy that age the right thing to do, he’ll do the opposite just to mess with you. About what time was that, when he left?”
“Right after Law & Order came on,” she said. “I remember because I hate that show. He got up when it came on, and we argued a little. When he left, I switched over to Magnum, P.I. It can’t have been more than a few minutes past nine.”
“How long’d he stay out, do you know?”
“Well, I finished my show,” she said. “But I just didn’t feel right. He’d gone off on his bike, and I was worried. I drove around a little while, here and there, keeping an eye out. Went down to the marina, because he’s like me—likes to look at the waves. They’re relaxing.”
I remembered that about her. It was how she’d met Karl, unfortunately. He’d always had some shabby-ass little boat to tool around in.
“You see Jackson there?”
“No. And I looked for Karl’s boat, but it wasn’t there either. Which I thought was a little strange—what is there to do out on the water in the dark? But then, Karl never did make much sense.”
She sighed and stepped over to the kitchenette. She got instant coffee from the cabinet, offered me some, and put the first cup of water in the microwave to boil. I could tell something was troubling her. When our coffees were fixed up how we liked them, she gestured to me to join her at the counter.
“Leland,” she said, “Jackson ain’t never set foot outside the Lowcountry. He can’t have gone far. But they’re looking for him, and they’re taking this real serious. We’re going to need help, and I don’t know any other lawyers but you.”
“Well,” I said, “I think they’re just doing their due diligence. He had a fight with Karl on the night Karl died. They’re going to want to talk to him, that’s all.”
“You sure?” she said. “What if that’s not all? What if they arrest him?”
“I mean, they can’t just do that without evidence.” Even as I said it, I knew I sounded like a fool. Some cops liked to pin crimes on whoever the local scapegoats were. It made their jobs easier and left everyone’s assumptions comfortably intact.
She was staring at me. We both knew that in this town, anyone associated with the Warton clan was fair game.
I switched gears. There was a simple answer to her question, so I rattled it off. “Okay, if they did, for a major felony they could hold him for between thirty-six and ninety-six hours without charge. That’s when they’d try to question him, but he’s entitled to have a lawyer present. He just needs to know not to talk without one.”
“So you’ll be there with him?”
“Well,” I said, and paused. If there did turn out to be evidence, if this went to trial, it could take a solid year of work. Months at the minimum. I was trying to get my business litigation practice off the ground, not do murder trials. Not even for pay, much less for nothing. I could barely float another month or two on what I had left, and she didn’t have anything.
“Leland,” she said. Her voice was trembling. “He’s just a kid. My kid.”
“I know, Mazie, but what I was saying is, there’s public defenders who do nothing but this type of work. The court would appoint—”
“But I don’t know them! Where do those folks work, Charleston? They don’t know this town. And they don’t know me.”
A tear ran down her face. In all my life I’d never seen her cry until today.
“Mazie,” I said, “you can call me anytime you need, but I think this is going to blow over. Karl fell off his boat and drowned. Jackson can’t get in trouble for that.”
“Then why’d the cops come for him?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
5
Wednesday, June 19, Evening
Walking into the Ocean View Diner, I was surprised to see it packed with locals and tourists alike, all of them rubbernecking to get a look at Mazie. A lot had come out about Karl’s murder—not least, that it looked like a murder. People were gossiping about autopsy results, but I knew how that worked; the police probably wouldn’t get the full report for another four or five weeks. Still, the word on the street was that Karl had been brutally beaten and then tossed overboard to drown.
It was possible the rumor mill had amplified bits of information beyond all recognition. It was also possible the coroner’s office had sprung a leak.
From the way the customers were treating Mazie, they liked scandal whether it was true or not. With Jackson still gone and the whole town knowing about his fight with Karl, she’d been branded a killer’s mother.
She was handling it as well as a person could. I’d come to get coffee and give moral support, but she was run off her feet with all the gawkers getting early dinners. Apart from when she poured my coffee, she hadn’t even looked at me.
When the place closed, I headed out to wait while she cleaned up. I’d dropped her off at work and told her I’d get her home, so she wouldn’t spend her shift worrying about her tires getting slashed or someone tossing a rock through her windshield.
I drove over to the diner’s back door so she wouldn’t have to go far. At twilight, when she came out and slid into the passenger seat, she looked more exhausted than I’d ever seen her. As I pulled onto the street, I asked, “You okay?” It was a stupid question, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“You tell me,” she said. “My son’s gone, the whole town thinks he’s a murderer, and on top of that, old Mr. Graham just
