A Following Sea

by Michael Lindley

  Jenna was scrubbed clean, as well, looking far more put-together than she had the past day. The son, William, must have been left at the shelter, Hanna thought. Both rose to meet Hanna and Moe Hall stepped forward to shake her hand.

  "Hello, Miss Walsh," he said. "Thank you for seeing us."

  His grip was warm and firm and he held on a bit longer than was comfortable for Hanna.

  "Hanna," she said. "Please come back to my office."

  When they were assembled around the conference table, Hanna reached for a file folder on her desk and placed it in front of her. She hadn't offered coffee or water. This wasn't a social call.

  Moe Hall was looking around her office at the family and professional photos framed on the wall and her diplomas. "Duke University," he said, looking at the diploma for her law degree. "Very impressive."

  Hanna didn't respond.

  Jenna Hall cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable and nervous.

  Hanna said, "Jenna, I thought you had a restraining order preventing your husband from seeing you?"

  Moe jumped in before she could answer. "We're patching things up."

  "I'm going to ask for the order to be lifted," Jenna said.

  "I've been a jerk, Hanna."

  "Yes, you have," Hanna said, the condemnation in her voice was clear. "Your treatment and abuse of your wife is unacceptable." She watched as Moe bristled. Before he could speak, Hanna continued, opening the file in front of her. "I also see you've had some other issues with the law."

  Jenna jumped in, "That's all in the past, Hanna."

  Moe's face was turning even more red. His fists clenched in front of him on the table. "What the hell is this?" he said slowly, clearly trying to maintain his composure.

  "Jenna, do you know there is an open arrest order for your husband?"

  The young mother looked over at her husband with a confused look.

  "That's all bullshit!" Moe said, standing and pushing his chair back against the wall.

  Jenna was on the verge of tears now and pleaded, "Hanna, I thought you would help us."

  Hanna looked up at the man leering down at her. "Jenna, my only interest is the safety of you and your son. This man is a serial abuser and I have no reason to believe he'll behave any differently if you two get back together. He also has an arrest record a mile long and the police are looking for him as we speak on a parole violation."

  Jenna looked back, speechless, the tears now flowing freely.

  Moe Hall grabbed the file in front of Hanna and ripped the contents in half. "I told you this is all bullshit!" He threw the torn documents back in Hanna's face.

  Hanna stood to confront the man. "You need to stay away from Jenna and her son as the court has mandated. You also need to turn yourself in to the police to resolve this parole issue."

  The man's jaw tightened, and he stepped toward Hanna, reaching out and taking the top of her blouse in his right hand. Before Hanna could react, he pulled her face close to his. "You bitch! You're just like all the others."

  Hanna wasn't surprised by the man's outburst. With a calm and steady voice, she said, "Take your hands off me, now. Get out of my office. Stay away from Jenna and William and turn yourself in. If you don't, I will call the police and it won't go well."

  The fury in Moe Hall's face was more than threatening, but Hanna didn't back down. The man still held her face close and she could smell soap and sour sweat at the same time.

  Suddenly, he pushed her away, and she fell back over the top of her desk. Hanna felt a stab of pain in her back from the fall, the old injury from the long-ago plane crash flaring. The man came around the table after her as Hanna tried to stand again. She watched as Jenna got up quickly and threw her arms around her husband to stop him. He threw her to the ground and Hanna heard the woman's head hit the wall.

  "Stop it!" Hanna screamed, now getting to her feet beside the desk, but Moe Hall kept coming at her and before she could defend herself, he slapped her backhanded hard across the left side of her face. The blow staggered her, and she stumbled back against the credenza behind her desk. He was coming after her again when the door to the office flew open and Hanna's assistant and one of the volunteer lawyers, Adam Preston, came running into the room. Molly had her phone to her ear, "Is this 911!" she yelled.

  Adam yelled out, "Hey! Step back!"

  Hanna watched Hall hesitate and then start to back away. He looked down at his wife on the floor holding the back of her head and sobbing. He started shaking his head and then he looked back at Hanna, pointing a finger at her. "This is not over!" he snarled. "This is not over!" He turned abruptly and ran out of the room.

  Hanna could hear Molly talking to the police and watched as Adam leaned down to check on Jenna. The blow to her face was still stinging and she could feel a swelling sensation beneath her eye. She sat down in her desk chair, completely stunned by the attack.

  Molly came over. "Are you okay?"

  Hanna looked up and managed to nod.

  "Let me get some ice," Molly said and left the office.

  Jenna Hall got back to her feet and walked toward Hanna. "What have you done? I thought you would help us!"

  Hanna took a deep breath and managed to finally speak, "You need to stay away from that man and keep your son away."

  Jenna just kept shaking her head and then she turned and hurried out of the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  The familiar stale smells of Gilly's Bar swept over him as Alex walked into the old place along the waterfront. It was dinner time and the bar and tables were nearly full of workers off-duty and having a few drinks, as well as other "locals" in for a meal. A few heads turned as he walked toward the bar. News of his father's arrest had spread quickly through town. One man who Alex knew was a good friend of his father, patted him on the back as he walked by. "Sorry, Alex. Let us know what we can do."

  Alex nodded back. "Thanks, Sully." He saw two open seats down at the end of the bar and took the furthest. Gilly was behind the bar and came over. He was a big man with arms that looked like they lifted beer kegs all day. His hair was long to the collar of a faded denim shirt and as gray as the beard that clearly needed a trim.

  "Long time," the old man said.

  "How you doing, Gilly?"

  "Never better. Sorry about your old man. Got pretty ugly in here last night."

  "So, I hear." Alex looked down the bar at the beer tap handles. "I'll have a Bud Light." The old bartender nodded and walked away. Alex turned when a man sat down next to him. It was a familiar face, his father's deck hand, Chaz Merton. Alex had known him since they were in school together. Chaz had obviously never made it out of Dugganville and over the years had worked on most of the shrimp crews in town, the past five years for Skipper Frank. The man looked ten years older than Alex, though they were in the same grade in school. A dirty and crumpled orange ball cap said "Clemson" on the front and covered gray hair that hung in greasy strands around his ears and down his neck. He smelled of beer and sweat and old fish. His t-shirt looked like he'd worn it all week.

  "Hey Alex."

  Alex held out his hand and the two men shook. "How ya been, Chaz?"

  "Sorry about the Skipper, man," Chaz said. "Saw him near take Horton's head off last night here at the bar, but never thought it'd go any further."

  Gilly came up with Alex's beer. Chaz held his empty up and the bartender took it and walked away for the refill.

  "What in hell happened, Chaz?"

  "Skipper and Bayes were both drunk and started jawin' about a run-in they had two days ago out on the Banks run. Skipper thought Horton jumped his run again. Before we knew it, they were tossin' each other around the place and throwin' haymakers. Gilly and me broke 'em up. Horton left first, then your old man had another beer before he left. It's been brewin' for a long time."

  "I know," Alex said. Gilly placed Chaz's beer down on the bar.

  "Alex, know there's not much I can
do," the bartender said, "but you let me know."

  "Thanks, Gilly."

  Alex heard Chaz say, "Oh, shit..." He turned and saw an older woman coming through the crowd. He recognized her right away. Horton Bayes' wife, Meryl, had been one of his schoolteachers in grade school. He hadn't seen her in twenty years, but the aged and sagging face was still familiar. She made eye contact with Alex and came straight for him. He stood as she came up. "Miss Bayes," he started before she slapped him. He sat back on his stool, totally stunned.

  "Your papa is a damn murderin' bastard!" she screamed out. The noise in the bar quieted and all eyes turned to Alex and Meryl Bayes. "What am I gonna do now with Horton gone?" Her face was flushed red with tears and swollen eyes.

  "I’m sorry, Miss Bayes," he said. "I'm really sorry."

  "Sorry! You're not sorry. You're a damn cop and you're here to get your old man off the hook!"

  Gilly came around the bar and got between Alex and the woman. He said, "Meryl, you need to get home. I'll have Therese walk with you." Gilly's wife came up beside them and reached for Meryl Bayes' arm.

  "Come on, honey. Let's get you home."

  The woman kept staring at Alex as she was led away. He heard Gilly say, "Sorry, son. No reason for that."

  Alex took a deep breath and then turned to the bar and took a long drink from his beer.

  Chaz said, "Woman's a damn mess. Can't blame her. A blessing in my mind, the old coot's gone. Never treated anyone well, not even his wife."

  Alex turned to his old friend, still smarting from the slap across his face. "What are you hearing down at the docks?

  "Nobody saw nothin'," Chaz said. "It was real late, and no one was staying onboard any of the other boats."

  "Right." Alex took another drink from his beer and looked off across the faces in the bar, many staring back at him. He saw a well-dressed man stand from a group at a far table and come toward them. He recognized Beau Richards, a local real estate developer and owner of half the businesses in the area. Alex had known the Richards family all his life. The son, Connor was two years behind Alex in school, but they had been on sports teams together. That's when he first met Beau Richards. The man always thought his kid should be the starting quarterback, but he rarely played. Connor also had a brief fling with Adrienne in high school, even after Alex started dating her. Richards came up and slapped Alex on the shoulder. "Good to see you, Alex," he said in a deep growling voice. "Sorry about Meryl. Guess you can't blame her." He was the only one in the bar with a sport coat on. His plaid shirt and khakis were crisply pressed. He had a white handkerchief showing from the breast pocket of his coat. His loafers must have cost more than most of the other men in the bar made in a week.

  "You slumming, Beau?" Alex said. "Nothing good on the menu down at the country club tonight?"

  Richards didn't seem to react to the sarcasm. "Can't beat Gilly's for their fried catfish."

  Alex could tell the man was well into his cups.

  "Just wanted to say how sorry I am about the mess your old man's in," Richards said. "Always liked Skipper."

  "Thanks."

  "You got a good lawyer?" Richards asked. "Know some good ones down in Charleston. Happy to hook you up."

  Alex said, "No, got it covered, thanks."

  "Well, you let me know." He shook Alex's hand again and walked away.

  It was eight o'clock when Alex finished his third beer and left the bar. It was too late to drive back to Charleston and he'd been drinking. He knew his old room at the family house was always available. As he walked to his car, he pulled his phone out and checked the messages. He felt it buzz in his pocket a few times in the bar but hadn't looked at it. There were two calls from Hanna. He pressed the voicemail button on the second call. The stress in Hanna's voice was clear.

  "Alex, please call."

  He hit the "return" button and heard Hanna come on the line after two rings.

  "Where are you?" she asked.

  "I’m staying up in Dugganville tonight. I had a look at the crime scene earlier with Stokes and then my dad's boat. It's a real mess over there."

  "Alex, I need your help."

  "What's going on?"

  "I need you to come back."

  "I can't drive. I just left the bar. Met with a few people I thought might know something about last night."

  He waited for Hanna's reply, but there was just silence for a moment.

  "Hanna?"

  "Don't tell me you were with her?"

  Alex said, "What? What are you...?"

  Hanna jumped in, "The redhead. Your wife!"

  "She's not my wife and no, she wasn't there." He immediately felt guilty for not going on to tell her of his earlier meeting with Adrienne.

  "Hanna, what's going on?"

  Again, a pause. "I'm sorry. I'm really upset. I was attacked by the husband of one of my clients this afternoon."

  "What!"

  "I told you about the woman and the restraining order on the husband."

  "Right."

  "I had them both in the office this afternoon. She wants to reconcile. His rap sheet is a mess and there's a warrant out for him."

  "Oh, great," Alex said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

  "A little welt under the eye."

  "Hanna!"

  "I'm alright, but I need you to get the Department on this guy and bring him in before he hurts Jenna again."

  "I'll make a call."

  "You really can't come back tonight?"

  "I shouldn't drive and there's a few more people I want to talk to in the morning."

  Hanna sighed and then said, "I'm sorry about the "redhead" thing."

  Again, Alex felt the guilt rush through him. He wanted to tell Hanna about the whole situation but not on the phone like this. "I'll call you when I'm on my way in the morning," he said.

  Hanna said, "I called Phillip Holloway about taking your dad's case. He wants to meet with us tomorrow."

  "I'll call you," Alex said. "You get some rest." He listened for her response but there was just silence.

  Finally, Hanna asked, "What aren't you telling me?"

  Alex hesitated and then said, "There's a lot going on up here. I'll tell you in the morning."

  As he ended the call, it suddenly occurred to him he wouldn't be going back in the morning. There was too much to deal with here. He had weeks of back vacation and he'd call his Captain in the morning.

  He made one other call before he got in his car to drive to his father's house for the night. He reached his partner, Lonnie, and filled him in. He also asked him to get someone on the Moe Hall warrant. When he ended the call, he thought again about Hanna. He didn't want to tell her on the phone about a son he never knew existed. The picture of his son he'd seen that morning in the diner came back into his mind. Then he remembered Adrienne's words, we have nowhere else to go.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex left his car in the parking lot at Gilly's and decided to walk home. He would stay in the old family house he had been born and raised in. He walked down the quiet main street of Dugganville. It was just past midnight. He took notice of familiar names of family businesses and other storefronts on both sides of the street as he passed. The old post office, Gordon's Rexall Drug Store, Rouse's Beer & Wine, the diner he'd spoken with Adrienne in earlier. Up ahead to his left, the wall of buildings ended as the docks along the river pressed out into the waters of the Santee River. There were sailboats with halyards clanging in the light breeze, larger cruisers, and a few of the outrageous wakeboard boats with towers and racks and speakers. There was a small fleet of charter fishing boats with their signs promising abundant catches of fish. Only two shrimp boats were tied up at the end. One was Horton Bayes' Lulu Belle.

  Alex remembered as a kid, there would have been a dozen shrimp trawlers at the docks, back before the business began its slow but steady decline. His father's boat, the Maggie Mae, was further up the river, tied
up at the dock in front of their house.

  Several gulls were still flying over the docks, even at this late hour, illuminated in the dim lights along pier. They screeched at each other and swirled in manic circles over the boats. The pelicans were less energetic, and a dozen rested out on the calm water of the river, waiting for morning and the first light of day to start out on their search for baitfish and mullet.

  The city park stretched up to his right from the docks, a small white gazebo just visible in the dim light. Alex remembered nights with his family there when local bands would play, and the Rotary Club would serve up shrimp and crabs to raise money. Then he remembered the first time he kissed Adrienne Moore. It had been late one night after a football game and he should have had her home. They stopped in the park and leaned against the railing of the gazebo, talking about the game and school. Then Adrienne pulled him close and kissed him, long and then again. They were juniors in high school and it was Alex's first kiss. He could still feel the shocking smooth wetness of it. They both lost their virginity a few weeks later... or at least Alex knew he had.

  A car came around the corner in front of him and passed, headed back into town. He shielded his eyes from the bright light and then kept on down the street toward his old family home. His father had bought the house in 1965, from another shrimper's widow who was ailing and leaving town to live with her daughter in Atlanta. He could see the house now, sitting up on a small hill across the street from the dock that held the Maggie Mae. It was a small shotgun cottage with white clapboard siding and a green shingled roof and green shutters on the windows. There was a covered porch across the front with painted white wicker furniture with green and blue cushions his mother had made years ago. The walk up from the street was made of a pattern of flat stones, now edged in moss and green mildew from the shade of big live oak trees surrounding the house. He saw the birdhouse he and his brother had made, sitting atop a tall post with an aluminum plate halfway up to keep the squirrels out of the seeds.