the release of Lillian's son and Blanche's love.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
She watched the sunlight trickle into her bedroom, little by little raising a curtain of light along the wall until the room was fully illuminated. Lillian Wood spent the night in her own home but got little sleep. The image of her son, dressed in orange coveralls, hands cuffed behind his back, looped through her mind like an old movie reel. Yesterday had proven to be more trouble for the Wood family as the day progressed. The local media had finally gotten the word that an arrest was made in The Stalker case, but no charges had been specifically filed, yet her phone rang non-stop and an aggressive, wannabe reporter had shown up on her doorstep late the night before. This morning an assessor from the bank would be coming by to provide an evaluation on the farm. They wanted to help but didn’t know if $200,000 was a doable number based on current property values and the existing mortgage on the house and land. With all the stress and worries she remained surprisingly optimistic; the hand of the Sheriff had done much to calm the older woman’s fears.
Blanche had gotten up early, no sign of Mr. Unger but she still tried to stay within the agreed upon schedule and avoid him altogether, then dressed conservatively, grabbed a banana and left for work. She made a quick stop at the hospital to see how Jasper was doing. Rufus was sitting in the room, head tilted to one side, a rolled up jacket for a pillow. Both the men in the room were asleep. With each breath Jasper would expel a deep, vibrating concussion of sound that led Blanche to believe that his father must be deaf. Blanche had little time and felt bad doing so, but she gently shook the older Jackson, startling him until his eyes could adjust and make out it was his librarian friend. With outstretched arms he pulled her in for a tight good morning hug but did not speak. Blanche motioned for him to join her in the hallway.
“How is he doing?” she asked.
“Bout as good as we kin hope. Says he’s got a pain in da ass,” he laughed.
“I’ll bet he does. How much longer are they going to keep him?”
“Till tomorra, or was it taday? I can’t be sure, soon though,” Rufus scratched his head hoping it would improve his morning memory.
“I don’t want to wake him, sounds like he’s sleeping pretty good. How do you sleep with that snoring going on? I could hear him clear down the hall as I left the elevator.”
“It’s somethin’ turrible ain’t it. Slept in da same house wit him fer sa long, don’t think I kin sleep witout it,” again he chuckled, a twinkle in his eye.
“Would you let him know that I stopped by and I hope to see him soon? Could you also let him know that the young man they’ve arrested for possibly shooting him is the wrong man? I know him, and he could not have done it. I’ll explain to Jasper later, okay?” she explained.
“Sure will perty lady,” he replied to her requests and returned to his spot in the room, getting himself comfortable again amidst the cacophony of sound.
Blanche left for the library in enough time to be a few minutes early, everything had to appear normal today, the inspectors would be by at an undisclosed time and she wanted to be prepared. Mrs. Ester Anderson would be on high alert.
Felix laid awake looking at the ceiling, watching the small dots and lines drift across the white surface, organics originating in the back chamber of his eyes. His doctor had told him he had floaters due to his age and they were harmless, but in the early morning hours he often could make shapes and faces from the unusual bits of debris that circulated through his vision. The sound of Bev sleeping next to him calmed his own breathing and made him feel relaxed and assured. The night had been interesting; she had been hungry for his touch and he for hers. It had not taken long to conclude the meal and business at the bar before making a beeline for her house. He had to focus to even remember where he left his car; he hoped it was still there. She shifted, rolling over on her side and draped her arm and leg across the cool Felix.
“Wednesday,” he said, moving his lips but not uttering a sound.
He tried to run the coming day through his mind, the things he needed and wanted to do, a trip to the Land and Title Office at the top of his list. Iggy had secured a special item for him that he was anxious to get his hands on, and he thought a face to face would shake the little man up in the process. He would be glad when he could put Valdosta behind him. Up until last night it had almost been fun, the game had been afoot, but it would all come down to the events of tomorrow night and the woman that slept beside him. He felt her leg move up his thigh and her hand slide between the sheets and down his torso before he felt her soft lips on his shoulder. Tomorrow would be much more difficult than he had imagined.
Deputy Breland pushed a silver cart through the main door to the lockup, juices on the bottom level and oatmeal and toast on the top. He stopped at each cell, calling the cellmate forward and handing them the breakfast. Seymour was still exhausted but not for lack of trying to sleep. The cot was insanely uncomfortable and he stirred with every sound, which was many, as they bounced off the concrete walls. The showing of support the afternoon before had lifted his spirits and he was confident his mother would be able to make the necessary arrangements to get him out of this hellhole. He was anxious to do his own investigation. Throughout the night, as he drifted in and out of slumber, he saw faces and places but he kept coming back to the man in the locker room, how unusual it had been that he retained his sunglasses as he stood at the end of their aisle.
At the time he had not cared or paid much attention to it. Some students just wore their glasses all the time, perhaps his were the type that changed and he was waiting for them to clear. He wished that he had paid closer attention to him. In his mind he could see him observing the conversation he was having with his friend, he remembered movement and he sat behind him and opened a locker. Seymour had not turned and looked at the man, but he noted as he left for the showers that the man was reading, his backpack in the open locker and his shoes on the floor. It seemed odd to him now. Why had he not undressed and changed, what was he waiting for? Then it struck him; he was waiting for the locker to be unattended so he could plant the gun. Why had he not realized that a day before?
“Deputy, Deputy Breland, I need to speak with Sheriff Lupo right away. I’ve remembered something!” he said, both hands on the bars speaking excitedly.
Noon rolled around and still nobody arrived from the bank, Lillian’s patience was wearing thin and the anger she’d felt on Monday was making a repeat appearance. She picked up the phone and dialed the bank, asking to speak with the manager. As she waited, listening to the annoying audio commercial and then the elevator music for more than two minutes, a distinct rap brought her attention to the front door.
She hollered from the kitchen, “I’m on the phone, if you’re a reporter get lost! I’m not making any statements.”
“Mrs. Wood, it’s Marc from the bank. I think you are expecting me.”
Lillian dropped the phone onto the mount and hurriedly went to the door, greeting the young man and putting her best foot forward.
“Thank you for coming, I’ve been anxiously waiting for you this morning. It’s very important that I get this taken care of so I can get my son home.”
“I understand and I’ll work as fast as I’m able but be aware these kinds of things take time. After all it’s a lot of money we’re talking about,” the preppy young man said.
“Oh, I know, I’m just anxious. What do I need to do?”
“Nothing really, I’ll just take a look at the house and the property. I’ve already looked over the legal description; the title and I know the size of your farm. It’s going to be close.”
“Close? I can’t tell you how important it is that I get that money. You’ll get it all back and with interest, my boy’s not guilty and he’s not going to run.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Wood, but we at the bank need to be careful, you understand.”
She did not understand, she just wanted this pencil pusher to clear the way for her to get her son out of the county jail.
“Well, if you need anything I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find everything. I won’t bother you when I leave but you should get a call later this
