“You knew you were selling ads on something that didn’t exist yet,” Harry shouted, infuriated. He was in shock. We all were. Lewis had outdone himself. This was by far his biggest mess.
“Yes, but we’d have millions as soon as we turned on the satellite. It would be instant. Tuscaloosa would be carrying the new network, too,” Lewis continued, his voice high and shaky—clearly he was living a nightmare.
“Would be, should be—but none of it worked! Why the hell did you do it, Lewis?” Harry walked away throwing his arms up in the air.
Lewis stood up. His face went from fearful to pissed off in less than two seconds. In a clear, low voice, Lewis quietly answered, “Because of you, Harry. I wanted, for once, to be better. To be right. To show you I could outdo you.”
“Well, look at yourself, Lewis. Happy? Mother’s life will never be the same. Over five million dollars of Dad’s hard-earned money is gone because of Lewis, the joke. Not only have you hurt Mother, you’ve stolen from her and lied to both of us. You’ve dragged the family name down in the mud with you. I hardly know what to say. I’ll defend you, Lewis, but only because you’re my blood, and I wouldn’t dare disgrace my own family the way you would. After that you’re on your own. I don’t even want to know you anymore.”
Lewis stood still, emotionally beaten to a pulp. He was unsteady on his feet as he moved across the room toward the front door.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’m on my own as of now.” And with that, he slammed the front door and walked out on Harry.
They hadn’t spoken since that fiasco nearly six years ago. Lewis and his cronies hired some high-powered Birmingham lawyers who got them off with some stiff fines and six months’ prison time at some posh, white-collar camp outside Atlanta. Charged and convicted of investment fraud and some FCC violations, Lewis eventually returned to Tuscaloosa stronger and even more determined to make loads of money.
With that all behind him, Lewis went on to become one of the most recognized voices in sports radio. That’s the funny thing about being in the media—sometimes a prison stint makes you even more interesting!
Over the last few years, Lewis made his and his mother’s money back with book deals and appearances. Bit by bit he worked himself out of the red, and without any help from Harry. I don’t think Lewis ever forgave Harry for treating him the way he did. Truthfully, I’m not sure it ever really mattered to Harry.
When their mother, Julia, died two years ago, Harry had stayed around after the service to watch Julia’s casket descend into the muddy Southern earth. I left him down near the gravesite alone to say goodbye to his beloved mother. He was always her favorite and he knew it. But Julia’s constant doting on her favorite eldest son put responsibilities on Harry that otherwise wouldn’t have been there. Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The Heart legacy, the Heart name, was his and his alone to propel into eternity, for the world to know and respect.
Much of the family, Julia included, had already written Lewis off as an unredeemable philanderer. Booze, gambling and women all seemed to gravitate in Lewis’s direction. It was Harry that everyone depended upon, counted upon. And as in every aspect of his life, Harry would have to be perfect. He expected it of himself more than anyone else did. Eventually the perfection he insisted upon became unbearable for, well, both of us. I’d come to realize that there were only two things Harry really cared about: his career and his mother. His drive for perfection didn’t seem to exist when it came to romance and marriage. Lately, it seemed as though these things were only an afterthought for Harry, if he had ever really considered them at all.
The day they buried Julia, I could see that Harry felt guilty. Guilty that he hadn’t done more, guilty that he hadn’t been able to save her like he always had, guilty that she never understood the whole story of why Lewis left the family. Harry had protected her from the God-awful truth. Now that she was gone, I think he was also partly ashamed for never forgiving Lewis.
When Harry was saying his last words to her, just before they began to crank the casket down, he looked up to remove his glasses, dabbing his eyes, and he caught Lewis in his peripheral vision. A starched white shirt, dark crimson tie and khakis—Lewis’s work uniform. He had obviously just left the pre-season show on campus. That Bama crimson is what caught Harry’s eye. He hadn’t laid eyes on Lewis in person for over four years, and the sight of him clearly took his breath away. He was caught. I could see the emotions warring within him as I watched him try to decide how to react. The Heart Book of Emotional Rules clearly states, “Hold a grudge with a white-knuckle grip—especially if it is against a family member.”
Yet the sensible, responsible Harry decided to make an amendment to the rule. Unless the person begrudged needs to say goodbye to his dead mother. Harry himself would not break the rules. No, he was too “Heart” for that. As Lewis approached from across the rain-soaked cemetery, Harry kissed his first two fingers and gently touched the coffin, and then turned away. He did not speak to Lewis or even motion a wave or an acknowledgment. He just turned and walked away. He had allowed Lewis to approach, and that amendment to the “Rules” was enough. While I’m sure he’d never admit it, I could tell that part of him wanted to scream at Lewis for not being a better son, a better brother, a better anything. But another part of him, I knew, wanted to grab him and hold him. He was, after all, the only family Harry had left now. But he did neither. Instead, he made his way up the hill to me.
That’s the same Harry I saw in the police station as we looked at the muddy clothes strewn out upon the desk. A Harry needing to speak, but unable to utter a sound.
“Well, Miss Vivi,” Sonny pushed.
Vivi sucked in a deep breath, and I slipped my hand in hers as she began to nod.
“Yes, Sonny, that’s probably what Lewis was wearing. I believe those are his clothes.”
“Thank you, Miss McFadden. That’s all we need for now.”
Sonny was matter-of-fact. He glanced over at me and then at Harry. “We’ll be in touch.” He handed the soggy bag back to Officer Dooley and gave him a nod, cop-speak for, “You know what to do.”
Officer Dooley trotted off into the darkness of the long hallway as the three of us turned to head back into the midmorning mist.
“Blake.” Sonny caught me. He cleared his throat. “Can I see you a minute?”
I saw Harry glance back at us, but he only said, “Go ahead. We’ll head to the car.”
I turned to Sonny. He looked concerned. “Blake, we need to talk.”
I sat back down under the slow-moving fans and got comfortable. I knew Sonny well enough to know that nothing with him only takes a minute. Nothing. Sonny was slow and steady, much like Harry in that way. I guess that’s always been my kind of man. A rock of a guy with a strong shoulder to lean on. It balances my overly emotional side.
Sonny looked at me without blinking. His dark brown eyes were speaking silent messages to me but I couldn’t quite make out the code.
“What is it?” I finally said.
“I was just thinking,” Sonny began. “Blake, as you know, we’re still waiting to hear whether those body parts belonged to Lewis. Without that, it’s still a missing person case.”
“I know.”
“Well, I am a little concerned about a couple things,” he continued in his thick-as-molasses Southern lilt. “I’m worried ’bout Harry, Blake. I saw him look at that bag of clothes.”
“Yes. So?” I said.
“C
’mon, Blake, the guy missing is Harry’s brother. How’s he gonna deal with that? You know? Separate the emotions from the job? I mean, hey, I know you lawyer types can do all sorts of gymnastics in the courtroom, but this might be one cartwheel too many.”
“What are you saying, Sonny?” I leaned forward and put my arm on his desk. Sonny leaned in toward me, just inches from my face. I could feel my face growing hotter by the second, though I knew this wasn’t the time or place to be getting riled up. It’s just that I hadn’t been this close to him in ages. I could smell his trademark peppermint gum, and his Stetson cologne hanging in the air.
“What I’m saying, Blake,” he continued, “is that Vivi Ann deserves a lawyer with a completely clear head. We’ve got a press conference in less than two hours and someone has to speak to the press. Frankly, we both know Vivi is a loose cannon, and I don’t think Harry’s up to it.”
That was Sonny. Just telling it like it is.
“Blake.” Sonny leaned even closer as if telling me a secret. “I care about you. Your heart is showing on this one. Stop a minute and think about what I’m sayin’. You need to make sure you get off on the right foot. No missteppin’, you know? With Lewis being the star that he is, it’s a real muddy case already. I know you know that. Someone will need to be the family spokesperson for Lewis. Please don’t take offense. I’m just callin’ it like I see it.”
Sonny had that protective, nurturing quality about him. That’s the part I’d always loved. Well, that and just the pure physical chemistry that had always been part of our story. I felt this passion whenever I was around him…always simmering just under the surface. For both of us.
“Just who do you think should handle the press?” I asked.
“Well, honey, there’s only one Deep South debate champion and University of Alabama speech and debate scholarship winner in this group. Seems to me she’d be the perfect spin doctor for a prickly case such as this. Sweetie,” he continued, “I’m looking at her.”
Something exciting bubbled up within me at his words. He’d remembered my awards—something I was sure Harry had long forgotten. That easily won Sonny a trillion points. He had me in the palm of his hand. I looked into his eyes like I used to do when I wanted something. I knew how to handle him, too.
“How do we take care of this? I’m not sure Harry’s going to like this news. I mean, we both know he isn’t one to miss an opportunity to speak to the public. And a case this big? That’s some serious exposure. Even if it’s about Lewis, I’ve got a feeling Harry’s gonna be focused on what this could mean for his career,” I explained.
“I know, honey, it puts you in a strange situation with Harry.”
Does he want me in a strange situation with Harry? I wondered.
“Even so, we must have a lead counsel, and I don’t think it should be him. I say you talk to him now and volunteer for the job. Tell him you’re worried he may reach a point where he becomes less objective.”
“Sonny!” I said. “Harry would never compromise his legal duties.” Not even for family.
“Okay,” he said, backing off a bit. “Just think about what I’ve said.” With that he reached over and slowly but deliberately laid his huge, protective hand on top of mine and squeezed.
“I care about you, Blake. You know that never really went away.” He slid his hand back. “Take care, now. I’ll see y’all in a couple hours at the press conference. It’s at Denny Chimes. Remember, this isn’t going to be your average press conference. Lewis’s fame will draw quite the crowd. We’ve been getting calls at the station from the media all day. With Lewis missing, every reporter from all of college football is gonna be swarming Tuscaloosa like flies on manure. They want to know what happened to their star announcer and who will be taking Lewis’s spot in the broadcast booth this season if he isn’t coming back. We’re gonna leave that one to the Bama spokesperson. I’ll be speaking, too, but we’re gonna try and keep this short and sweet. I need you to prepare a statement from Vivi, but don’t let her anywhere near that microphone. We don’t need a repeat of her storytelling from the Tutwiler. This is not the time or place for her to deal with this kind of pressure—and with all the attention and live cameras, I’m afraid her nerves will make her say something that could hurt her case.”
I must have looked apprehensive because Sonny paused and said, “You can do this, Blake. All of it. Now put that debate champion hat on and get out there for those two people you love. I’ll be right there next to you.”
My heart was speeding and my palms were damp and I was ashamed and excited all at the same time. He had this effect on me. I only had to be in the vicinity of him and my heart would try to leap out of my chest. I took a breath and turned toward the door.
Though I had been married for years, Sonny comforted me in a way that was uniquely his own. And he made me feel so protected and secure, yet strong and confident. He never cast his own shadow over me. I had an ally in this whole mess in him. He still understood me and wanted to protect me. I was filled with invincibility. And a little heated excitement.
As I stood, Sonny touched my shoulder and winked.
“How’s Laura these days?” I asked, needing to remind myself that we were both off-limits.
“Fine, I guess,” he said. “I hear she’s fine.”
“What?” I asked. “Aren’t you still…?”
“Divorced,” he interrupted. “About a year now.”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I said. Was I?
He began to walk me out. His hand was still on my shoulder. “Blake, no poor woman can ever live up to you.” There was sarcasm in his voice, but something in his eyes hinted at the truth.
As I made my way to the door, I turned to him. He looked at me and winked again, leaned down and kissed my cheek. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and noticed slivers of sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. I felt guilty for feeling excited. I was still married. But it was very clear to me now what was missing from my relationship with Harry. Attention, passion, heat, emotion. Apparently the list was pretty long. I was shocked at the clarity a simple touch from Sonny could bring. As I made my way to the car, I realized I had a choice. I could act on the heat I felt between us, or I could be my usual good-girl self and try to put the fire out. Somehow I knew my halo didn’t quite fit anymore.
8
I left the station and arrived at the car, Vivi already strapped in. She had been crying and she looked shaken, knowing the clothes she had just seen belonged to the love of her life. Things did not look good.
Harry was on his cell. By the tone of his voice I could tell he was talking to Dan Donohough, an old fraternity brother who was now Harry’s campaign manager.
“Uh-huh. I know. I know. I won’t. Really, it’s not an issue. Got it,” he said into the phone. I knew he was talking about Vivi and the possible threat this case must be to Harry’s image. Image was, after all, the very most important thing. Harry’s Senate run was approaching fast and nothing would be allowed to tarnish the shimmery Heart image they had worked so hard to create. Not Vivi, not even a possibly dead brother. Dan was Harry’s handler. And it was his job to make sure Harry didn’t…well, step in it, so to speak. Unfortunately for Dan, it seemed that Harry was pretty much surrounded by a barnyard of it, nearly all the time. Harry always meant well, and though we were having our problems, even I had to admit that he was still one of the good guys deep down. Only lately, the good was buried a little deeper than usual. The ru
n for Senate was changing him.
Dan was great at his job. He was one of those political hounds—supersmart on the inside but on the outside, well, let’s just say he’d give James Carville a run for his money. Bald and loud and skinny, he’d tell it like it is, even if you didn’t want to hear it. Harry needed him, depended on him. They made a good team and I knew, our relationship aside, that Harry would make a great senator. I felt confident he would always get my vote, whether or not we stayed married forever. But forever suddenly sounded like a really long time.
“You okay?” I asked Vivi as I got into the car.
“I’m so confused, Blake,” Vivi answered, her voice shaking. “I have so many questions. In my heart, I just cannot believe Lewis is dead. I mean I left him layin’ there. I swear I thought he was dead, but then where could he have gone? Did somebody come in and take him? Dump him in the river? I just don’t know if I can stand this. The truth is, I always act like he and I just loved screwin’, you know? But, Blake, I loved him—love him.”
“I know, Vivi, I always knew that. And, honey, truth be told I know he loved you, too, even if he was born with an overdose of testosterone. You are the girl he has always loved. I know it.”
Vivi lost it right there, sobbing uncontrollably. After a few minutes she stopped, inhaled deeply, wiped her nose and cheeks with the cuff of her white cotton sleeve. A good and proper Southern girl would at least use a tissue. Vivi was always good, but hardly ever proper. The big breath was followed by silence. Vivi looked at me. Eyes bugged out, brows up high, she announced, “Sonny thinks I did this, that I hurt Lewis, and threw him in the river. Why? Why, for God’s sake?” It was all hitting her like Dorothy’s house hit the Wicked Witch’s sister—all at once, laying her out flat with only her shoes sticking out.
“Vivi, get hold of yourself!” I said. “That’s what we’re here for. We’re gonna take care of you, and Sonny is just doing his job. I know him. He knows you didn’t do this.”
The Sassy Belles Page 9
