“C’mon,” I said. I took her elbow and led her onto the sand. Down the beach a ways, I could see the burned-out husk of the old ice cream shop. “Look at that,” I said. “Now if that ain’t a damn shame.”
“I don’t care about that old place,” she said. “I’d burn the whole town down to get him home.”
“Look, we’re in it for the long haul. You got to brace yourself for the fact that if he doesn’t get bail, he’s looking at six or even twelve months in jail, waiting for trial.”
“Oh God,” she said. She broke away from me and ran down to the water’s edge. To the unfurling waves, she yelled, “Lord, don’t do this! I can’t do this!”
When I caught up to her, I said, “You can do it, Mazie. You’ve got to, for Jackson. And listen. He’s been holding up pretty dang well, considering. I’ll be seeing him again shortly, so if you got a message to pass on, you just tell me.”
She didn’t look at me. Watching the waves come in, she said, “Leland, I am so grateful for everything you’re doing. But as a father you have to know that nothing is going to be right for me until he walks out of there a free man.”
“I do understand that,” I said. “Listen, you want a coffee? Or something to eat?”
“I ain’t hungry,” she said. “And besides, I got an interview up in Awendaw in a half hour. It’s a nicer place; the tips should be better. I need to work more. I need money so I can help him.”
“Well, best of luck with that,” I said.
I walked her back to her car, then got myself a hot dog and watched the seagulls fighting over scraps.
Then it was time to head over to the jail. I’d gotten some initial discovery from the solicitor’s office, and perhaps more importantly, I’d heard from Terri what the local cops were saying about the evidence against Jackson. His arrest report showed his conversation with the cops had been longer than the majestic “Fuck you” he’d mentioned when we spoke. The story he’d told them was consistent with what he’d told me, though—that he’d spent the night on the beach—so it didn’t worry me.
What did worry me was Terri’s intel. The word on the force was that Detective Blount had not only seen Jackson near the marina, he’d seen him carrying a crowbar and then trying to hide it when he spotted Blount’s truck. That seemed not just bad news for Jackson, but awfully specific, considering the autopsy report wasn’t due back for another few weeks. If Blount said he’d seen Jackson with a crowbar and then the autopsy came back saying Karl’s injuries were consistent with being hit by exactly that, we were going to have a problem.
I needed to get Jackson’s side of the story. And I wanted to drill down more into his sleeping-on-the-beach story. I’d been going to that beach since I was a kid, and I couldn’t think of a spot on it where a person could sleep without being in full view of anybody who was there—which was normally a lot of people this time of year. It also occurred to me I should check the tide tables for that night.
As I was resigning myself to the fact there were no shaded parking spots near the jail, my phone rang. I was in the habit of answering whether I recognized the number or not, since you never knew where a tip or a new client was going to come from. This was neither. Aaron Ruiz was calling from the county solicitor’s office. As we said hi, I eased into a spot in the blazing sun and rolled up the window. Despite the lack of AC, I couldn’t risk letting some passerby overhear the conversation.
Ruiz said, “I’m just calling as a professional courtesy. I got the short straw on that murder case, so I guess you and I will be seeing a lot of each other, and I wanted to start out on a good foot.”
“Well, thanks,” I said. I could feel the sweat gathering on the back of my neck.
“You got a tough row to hoe,” he said. “And it’s way too early to talk about any kind of plea, but I did want you to know I favor them when it’s appropriate.”
“Good to know,” I said. “Thanks. But I’m actually confident in our case. And I know you got to do whatever case you get assigned to, but I don’t envy you.”
He chuckled. He knew what I meant. “Yeah, the tragedies are easier,” he said. “The pillars of the community, the innocent kids—if it keeps me up at night, it’ll keep the jury up too.”
“Exactly,” I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. “I imagine you been sleeping well.”
“Well, but a man is dead here.”
“And a kid’s in jail. A kid you can’t even place at the scene.” I was fishing to see what he had.
“About that kid,” he said. “He just your client, or is it Benton & Hearst we’re dealing with?”
“Oh, just me. I’m of counsel for Roy, but I maintain my own practice.” I liked the fact he’d pivoted to a different subject and his voice had stayed light. It was a good sign.
“Well, good for you,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. “Good for you. I know you and the kid’s mom go way back, but still, it’s a lot of work for what they pay you.”
After we signed off and I went into the jail, I took a second to refresh
