“Aw, dang.” It was a lousy job, but I knew she needed the money.
There was a hint of humor in her voice when she added, “I can’t believe he didn’t appreciate all the business I was bringing in.”
I smiled. Finding humor where she could had always been her way. Maybe that was why a hard life hadn’t hardened her. “Someone else will see the business opportunity,” I said. “You’ll find something.”
“Yeah, if I want every shift to be a freak show,” she said, sounding very tired. “Jackson’s boss told me he ain’t showed up either. I’ve texted him, but I got no idea where he is. This can’t go on long, or we’ll lose the house. The landlord don’t take kindly to unpaid rent.”
“Maybe Roy has something,” I said. “Some work where you wouldn’t have to deal with the public. He’s got a secretary, but I don’t know, cleaning, maybe? He could ask around if he doesn’t have anything himself.”
She gave a laugh that was past hope. “Even before all this,” she said, “Roy wouldn’t have hired a Warton. He runs a respectable firm.”
“Maybe things have changed,” I said. “I mean, he’s got Blue Seas for a client, and they had Karl and his brothers on the payroll.”
“They did?”
We were on the causeway now, and I kept my eyes on the road, but I could feel her looking at me in surprise. “You didn’t know?”
“Oh, Karl never wanted me to know anything about his money. According to everything he ever told me or filed in court, he had none, especially not for child support. I guess I was supposed to think that boat of his ran on seawater and thin air.”
“He said that in court filings?”
“On the stand, once. But it was a long time ago.”
“Dang. I wish I’d known. Maybe we could’ve put some pressure on him to help you out. Doesn’t matter how long ago it was. There’s no statute of limitations on crimes in South Carolina, and perjury’s a crime.”
She didn’t say anything. I put the window down for a breeze. The palm trees alongside the road were so close that each one made a whooshing noise as we passed, a rhythmic punctuation. Streetlights were few and far between, but in the light of one I caught sight of more tears on her face.
“Mazie, if there’s anything I can do to help you feel better...”
She wiped her face roughly, seeming annoyed that I’d caught her crying, and said, “It ain’t about how I feel. It’s about Jackson. He needs help. I need you to save my son.”
“Mazie, I know he’s running scared, but I don’t see a case here. I know the gossip is pretty horrifying, but it’s got to blow over sometime, and—”
She slammed her hand down on the dashboard. “Leland, no! This kind of thing doesn’t blow over for people like us. And ain’t you heard, or do you just not listen? They got a witness now. Some cop who docks at the marina says he saw Jackson there that night.”
I tried not to let her see me wince. A defendant who fled out his back window, and now a police officer who placed him at the scene. She had reason to be scared.
“Mazie, gossip ain’t evidence. I want to help, but…” I signaled a turn and checked traffic, taking the opportunity to stop talking. I didn’t want to get into my finances with her.
Of course, compared to seeing your only child imprisoned for murder, worrying that mine might have to take out big loans in order to afford college felt ridiculous.
“But what?” she said. “My boy didn’t do this. I know him. Maybe if Karl had attacked me, Jackson might do him harm fighting him off. I could see that. But he would never have chased his father down and murdered him. I need a lawyer who understands that. And who understands that this town has always thought the worst of us.”
I nodded, still looking at the road. “I do understand that,” I said.
“Then help us!”
“Here, we gotta shut these windows,” I said, hitting the button to close them. We were getting into the built-up part of her edge-of-nowhere neighborhood. “I don’t want anybody to hear us talk.”
When we pulled up outside her house, I put the car in park, turned to her, and said, “Look, for a lot of reasons, I don’t know if I could take this case—if it turns into a case, which it still might not.”
She laughed like I was foolish to think there was any hope of that.
“If you hear from Jackson,” I said, “you tell him to call me. And tell him he’s not to say anything to the police without me there, no matter what. Easier said than done, for a kid his age, but it’s critical.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll tell him just that. Can I tell him in a text, in case I don’t hear from him?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want her creating any evidence that might look bad to the cops or a jury. “Okay,” I said, “here’s what you do. Tell him exactly this: ‘Jackson, don’t worry.’”
“Hang on a second,” she said. She pulled her phone out and started typing.
“So, ‘Don’t worry. You have the right to a lawyer, and we’ll get you one. But don’t talk to the police without one. I’m not sure I trust them.’ Just say that, and then sign off however you normally do.”
When she’d finished writing, I said, “If you hear from him, or if he’s arrested, call me right away. In the meantime, I’ll do some digging. I’ll see if I can find out what the police have. There’s a decent chance they don’t have anything at all.”
“But how? Old Mr. Graham said he had it straight from a cop he knows that they got another cop who saw Jackson there.”
“Mazie, the police are allowed to distort things, make them sound worse than they are. It
