“Robie, there aren’t bodies buried at the Willows, are there? I mean, the Barksdales sell the place and nobody ever sees them again?”
“You kill people and bury them and hope the new owners don’t notice the freshly turned earth? How likely is that?”
“I don’t know how likely it is. I’ve never been to Mississippi.”
“That can’t be it,” he said.
“So what’s your explanation?” she asked irritably.
“I don’t have one.”
“Then don’t just discount mine out of hand. But if something about the Barksdales is connected to what’s going on now, how does that work exactly?”
“We come back to what we talked about before. What if Clancy was blackmailing one of the Barksdales?”
“That would be a motive for his murder.”
Robie sighed. “But all these years later?”
“Maybe the blackmailing didn’t start until recently?”
“That presumes Clancy knew where the Barksdales moved to.”
“Maybe he did.”
“This is getting way too complicated, Jessica.”
“Maybe that’s because we’re making it too complicated. But if Emmitt Barksdale is hanging around here, then he might know all about it.”
“Right, but we don’t know where he is.”
“You said he was sneaking around the Willows. But the woman at the courthouse said she saw him coming out. So it’s not like he’s in complete hiding. He might surface again.”
Robie said nothing for a few moments, and then his brow cleared as an idea obviously hit him. He pulled out the photo of Wendell and the children.
“Wendell was in his midsixties when he died.”
“Okay.”
“And Henry Barksdale was roughly the same age. Same generation as my dad.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying…?”
Robie held up the photo. “What if Henry Barksdale was the one taking the picture?”
Chapter
66
REEL STARED OVER at him, her brows elevated. “That’s a leap of logic, isn’t it?”
“Not so much.”
“So do you mean Sherman Clancy cut a deal with Barksdale? Give me enough stuff I can blackmail Nelson Wendell with, and I’ll let you alone?”
“Well, Wendell probably had a lot more money.”
“But Barksdale would be a fool to trust Clancy.”
“Maybe he didn’t have much choice. And Pete said his dad let Wendell use his shack. He thought at first for women. Maybe they never intended for Clancy to know what they were really doing. But he found out.”
“Now that makes more sense.”
“And I always wondered about the connection between Nelson Wendell and Clancy. They didn’t move in the same circles. Hell, Wendell didn’t even live in Cantrell. But Wendell and Barksdale, now they moved in the same circles. So maybe Barksdale arranged all of this after he found out he and Wendell shared a thing for kids. That could be how Wendell and Clancy hooked up. Through Barksdale.”
“Or maybe Clancy was never supposed to know Wendell was even involved.”
“Right. That’s more likely. But Clancy was enterprising, saw his chance and took it.”
“But you found out that Barksdale didn’t leave Cantrell until a couple years after you did.”
“Maybe that’s when Clancy started to put the squeeze on him. He had pictures. It would be the blue-blood Barksdale’s ruin. Hell, maybe he sold the house in order to pay off Clancy.”
“This is something we need to find out for sure.”
Robie pulled out his phone. “Well, we know a place that’s good at gathering information.”
Blue Man answered his phone on the second ring.
Robie patiently explained the situation and asked for what he needed.
Robie could hear the man jotting down no-doubt-meticulous notes. When he was finished Blue Man said, “Interesting theory.”
“I hope you can confirm it as more than a theory.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“And thanks for sending Jessica down here. I wouldn’t be talking to you if she hadn’t been around to save my butt.”
“I like to plan for all contingencies. And Robie?”
“Yes?”
“I can understand why you’re doing this, even if I don’t agree with it.”
“Thank you for that,” replied a surprised Robie.
“My relationship with my father was something less than ideal, too.”
He clicked off.
Robie looked at Reel as he put his phone away. “He’s on the case, but we can’t rely just on that. We need to work the angles we can, too.”
“Starting with?”
“Sherman Clancy’s first wife. She was in court when my father was arraigned.”
“Do you know where she lives?” Reel asked.
“No, but I’m sure we can find out.”
“Even if she knows something do you really expect her to admit it to us?”
“Like you said before, it’s all in how you ask, Jess.”
* * *
Cassandra Clancy had never remarried. She lived about twenty miles from Cantrell.
As Robie and Reel drove up the cobblestone drive and pulled to a stop in front of the large, well-appointed two-story home with a BMW sedan parked out front, Reel said, “Looks like she got her pound of flesh from her husband in the divorce.”
“Hopefully, she managed her cash better than her ex did.”
They got out and went up to the door.
Robie knocked, and they heard footsteps heading their way.
The door opened, and Cassandra stood there. Robie had not gotten a good look at her in the courtroom, but now he could see that she had aged poorly. Her skin sagged and was mottled with sun damage. Her hair had been permed to such an extent that it was thin and wispy, and her scalp showed through in various places. Her clothes were costly, though, and fit her stout body well, hiding the depth of the belly and width of the hips.
“Can I help you?” she said cautiously.
“I’m Will Robie. This is my friend, Jessica Reel.”
Cassandra looked from one to the other before settling her gaze back on him. “Damn, Will, you’ve changed, honey. Didn’t recognize you. Not that we knew each other all that well way back when.”
“No, I guess we didn’t. But I went to school with a couple of your children.”
“I remember now I saw you in the courtroom. Didn’t put two and two together.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Well, if your daddy killed Sherm I owe him my thanks.”
“I take it you didn’t get on with your ex-husband.”
“I hated his guts. He dumped me for a floozy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“So was I,” she said sharply.
“I saw you sitting with the floozy in the courtroom.”
Cassandra took a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, tapped one out, struck a match, and lighted up. “Time heals wounds. You two want to come in?”
They followed her inside, and Robie noted the luxurious appointments throughout the rooms they passed. She led them out onto the back patio, accessed through French doors. The grounds were fenced in, and there was a large, tiered fountain, professional landscaping, and wrought iron benches parked in various places.
Robie looked around. “Well, I’m glad to see you did okay financially.”
She grimaced. “I should have gotten more, but old Sherm, while a total shit, was cunnin’ as a gator on the hunt. He hid assets. He was worth ten times what he said he was when he filed the divorce papers. But I did okay. And I managed my money well. I’ll never have to work again. And who knows, since the son of a bitch died without a will, I might get a few more bucks from his estate.”
She pointed to a full pitcher and some glasses set on a wooden console. “Y’all want some sweet tea?”
Knowing that it migh
t put him into a diabetic coma, Robie declined. So did Reel. Cassandra rose, poured herself a glass with plenty of ice, and sat back down. She took a long sip, smacking her lips.
“Nothin’ better on earth.”
“I’m sure,” said Robie. “So the money had come from the sale of the mineral rights on the farm you both owned?”
She tapped ash into an ashtray and eyed him suspiciously. “Look, what the hell is all this about?”
“Just following up leads with my dad’s case.”
“I see. I didn’t know your daddy all that well. But I never heard anyone say a word against him. Good man. I was sorry to hear about all the trouble he’s in now.”
“Do you think he could have killed your ex?”
“I don’t know. I can tell you I wanted to kill Sherm many times. Just never had the guts to do it.” She paused. “He was proud of you, I know that.”
“Who? Your husband?”
“No. Your daddy.”
“How do you know that?”
“Many’s the time I sat on the bleachers next to him at the games, that’s how. This was before I got divorced, of course. Two of my boys played for Cantrell. They were ahead of you in school by a few years, but I still went to all the home games even after they graduated. Anyway, your daddy would cheer like mad. Tellin’ everybody around him what a tough son of a gun you were. Thought the man would pop with pride.”
“He never said anything to me.”
“Well, some men are like that. I don’t think Sherm ever complimented his boys either. Probably afraid it would make ’em soft if they thought they’d get praised for everythin’. So the idiot never said a kind word to ’em.”
“I guess some men are wired that way,” said Robie quietly, drawing a sharp glance from Reel.
Cassandra smiled and pointed a finger at him. “Now, you quarterbacked the Panthers to the state championship. Only good thin’ that ever happened in Cantrell, far as I’m concerned.”
“Thanks.” He paused and pondered how best to say it. “I remember your farm. It was a big one.”
“I remember that farm, too,” she replied. “And none of those memories are fond ones. We never made a dime growin’ crops. Worked our asses off for peanuts.”
“But then the mineral rights were sold. And Sherm parlayed that into business ties with the casino folks. And then the cash flow picked up nicely. And then you divorced. All pretty fast, actually. Just over a few years.”
She looked at him suspiciously again. “You seem to know a whole lot about our business.”
“I like to know things. Like, for instance, what sort of dealings your husband had with Henry Barksdale and Nelson Wendell.”
Robie emphasized the names to see the woman’s reaction.
Her complexion changed. “Nelson Wendell? The oilman? How would we know him?”
The lie was not very good, thought Robie.
“What energy company bought the mineral rights to your property, Ms. Clancy?” asked Reel.
The woman turned to face her. “Why does that matter?”
“It would matter if it was Coastal Energy.”
Cassandra stood and said darkly, “I want you two outta my house. Right now.”
Neither Robie nor Reel moved.
Robie said, “People have died, Ms. Clancy. Murdered. Including your husband. We know why he was murdered. Do you? And do you want to be next?”
Her lips were trembling but Cassandra still stood there looking defiant.
“I think you should sit down,” said Reel. “And let’s talk about this before things get even worse.”
Cassandra abruptly sat, smoked down her cigarette, and hastily lit another.
“There’s a shack on the back part of your farm, you remember that?” asked Robie.
Cassandra said nothing.
He took out the photo and slid it across to her. “This was taken inside that shack, wasn’t it?”
Cassandra glanced at the photo and then just as quickly looked away.
“And that man is the late, if unlamented, Nelson Wendell,” added Reel.
Robie tapped the photo. “The thing is, Cassandra, where did the little kids come from?”
The woman’s face turned red and she started to breathe more heavily. She grabbed her chest. “I think I might be having a heart attack,” she gasped.
“I think you’re having a panic attack. We can call an ambulance if you want. But my question will still be out there. And maybe the police will be the ones to come and ask you next time.”
Her chest stopped heaving and she glared at him venomously. “It’s not legally actionable anymore. They have to file criminal charges before they turn twenty-one. And the statute of limitations has run on the civil side, too.”
“You checked the law, so you must have known all about it, then,” said Robie.
Cassandra was trembling. “If my ex did somethin’ bad, that’s on him, not me.”
“So where did the kids come from?”
“I have no idea what you’re even talkin’ about.”
“But like you said, you’re home free, Ms. Clancy. The law can’t touch you now.”
She tapped her ash and said nothing.
“Your kids doing okay?”
She said warily, “Yes. And the grandkiddies, too. Got six of ’em. All just fine.”
“Unlike the kids in the shack. Did you and your husband befriend folks saying you’d take care of their kids for them while they were working, maybe? And instead you let two pedophiles loose on them?”
She barked, “You two get the hell outta my house. Now! Before I call the cops.”
“The cops know we’re here,” said Robie. “We’re working with Sheriff Monda on this.”
Cassandra nearly dropped her cigarette. “He…he knows you’re here?”
Robie nodded.
“He knows a lot,” said Reel. “Pretty much everything we do.”
She sputtered, “I-it’s not actionable. I-I’m tellin’ you that. It’s n-not.”
“But that’s not the same as the truth coming out. They may not be able to take you to court, but I wonder how your kids will take the news. And your grandkids.”
“I’ll sue you. That would be slander. I’ll sue you!” screamed Cassandra.
“Well, one absolute defense to slander is the truth.” He pulled out his phone and held it up. “I recorded everything you said.”
The Guilty Page 38
