“Jesus. Do you think Blount arrested him just to get him in with Jackson? On orders from Pete?”
“It’s a hell of a coincidence if he didn’t.” She took a deep breath, like she was trying to stay calm. “I tried to think of another explanation. I’m still trying. And I keep thinking, you know, Karl was just trying to make a buck, but it went too far. He got himself into something a whole lot bigger and more dangerous than he realized.” She looked up at me—I was still standing beside her—and said, “Leland, so did we. So did we.”
35
Wednesday, December 18, Morning
I got to the office before dawn and put the coffee on. About twenty minutes later, Henry’s silver Mercedes swooped into the parking lot. I went to meet him at the door. I didn’t know if I was imagining it, but behind his usual confident smile, I thought I caught a hint of nervousness.
“Morning, Leland.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sky, which was still more gray than blue. “Or maybe I shouldn’t say that until the sun’s actually up.”
“Close enough,” I said, letting him in and heading for the coffee maker. “I just made a fresh pot. Want some?”
“No, thanks. Already had a triple espresso to keep awake on the drive to Charleston.” He looked around the office. “Leland,” he said. “We alone here?”
“Yes, we are.” I was watching him out of the corner of my eye as I poured a cup. “Roy is not a seven a.m. guy.”
He nodded and gave a deep exhale, like he was psyching himself up for something.
“That’s my office there,” I said. “Let’s step on in.”
He went in but didn’t sit down. “Pretty decent view,” he said, looking out my window at the palm tree. “Better than staring at the parking lot.”
“Yep.” I walked around him to my desk and sat. “So, Henry, I’m sorry to mess with your schedule, but something came up that I thought you’d want to know.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Little disconcerting, the whole not-being-overheard thing, but I appreciate the discretion.” He turned and took a seat.
“Confidentiality is something you can count on in me.”
“Well, thanks.”
“I know you got a busy day,” I said, “so I’ll get right to the point. I have it on good authority that it at least appears a contractor of yours may have used Blue Seas as a cover for drug dealing.”
It took part of a second for his face to assume a surprised expression.
I continued, “And I’ve been informed that anyone at Blue Seas who can provide good information on that could be given immunity.” Accusing him of being involved was not my way, even if I’d been sure he was. Which I wasn’t.
“Uh, wow,” he said. He nodded slowly, eyes wide, like he needed a second to process this.
“Immunity or even, if it comes to that, witness protection.”
“Huh,” he said. “You mean like on TV and whatnot? Moving a whole family out of harm’s way?”
“Yep,” I said. “Exactly.”
He leaned back in the chair, laced his fingers together across his belly, and tilted his head like he was appraising me. He was quiet long enough that I noticed the ticking of the clock on my office wall.
Finally, he said, “Leland, you ever done something you’re ashamed of?”
“Of course.” I smiled a little. “But I doubt we got time to get into that, since Roy gets in around nine.”
It was a quarter past seven. He smiled back.
He moved his clasped hands to the back of his head, stuck his elbows out, and shut his eyes. “So I want you to picture,” he said, “if you’d been doing something wrong, for some other people, and then you manned up and told them that was it, no more. But then you came downstairs real early one morning to get some work stuff wrapped up, and one of them was sitting on your couch, right in your goddamn living room. Got through your burglar alarm somehow. And he had a Glock in his hand. And he smiled at you and said, ‘How you doing? Family still good?’”
I said, “Doesn’t seem like you’d have much choice.”
He nodded, brought his hands back to his lap, and leaned forward. “Leland,” he said, “I need to get my family out of here. There is nothing I will not do to achieve that. You just tell me who to call.”
“Federal prosecutor friend of mine. I’ll send you his number.” I took out my phone. As I sent it, the first ray of sun hit my desk, filtered through the palm fronds outside. I was skeptical of signs, but that seemed like it might qualify as a good one.
His phone pinged. He looked at it and said, “Up in Charleston, huh? Shoot, maybe I’ll call him on the way.”
“I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”
He nodded, slapped his hands on the desk, and stood up. I stood too, to shake his hand and say, “You have yourself a good trip, now.”
“Thanks. And I mean it.” He went to the door, stopped, and looked back at me. “One thing I’ve wished I could’ve told you,” he said, “but I had to think of my family first, is that Mazie’s son did not kill Karl.”
In my poker voice, I said, “Uh-huh. I didn’t think so. You happen to know who did?”
He hesitated. “It’ll be safer,” he said, “for everyone, if I just tell your friend. And anyway, this might be better going through the feds than the local police.” He held up one hand in a wave goodbye and walked out.
I sighed and sat back down. There was nothing to do but compartmentalize and get back to dealing with the trial. In a few hours, I had to be back in court trying to give Chambliss a solid legal
