Walking Woman (Gratis Book 2)

by Jackson, Jay

  An anonymous party contacted Racey about the purchase of the Peters property. A large portion of his clientele was anonymous, as could be expected in his line of work. Most of his clients were referrals, and he often received phone calls from those only identified as “friends of so and so.” They would describe exactly what they needed done. Racey would direct them to get a burner phone, and then to mail that phone number and a cash-filled envelope to his post office box. Then they would start doing business, always by text. If accused of breaking the law, he would do as he directed his old legal clients and “deny, deny, deny.” A recorded voice made the denying part considerably harder to do.

  The client in this matter grabbed his attention immediately. After describing the need, Racey directed him to send an envelope containing $10,000. Two days later, he received an envelope with $15,000. A handwritten note accompanied the cash.

  “Urgent,” it said. A telephone number was written underneath.

  Racey appreciated a client who could get to the point, so he acted accordingly. He got one of the extra burner phones he always kept in his desk, texted the new number not five minutes after receiving the envelope, and soon received a text with another added incentive. If he was able to secure a deal for the land in the next two months, Racey would also receive 5 percent of the purchase price. With the amount his client was willing to pay, he would clear over $100,000. He could buy a lot of pills and strippers with that kind of money, not to mention the delicious martinis served across the street at the Highland Tap. The “Gratis client” moved to the top of his list.

  Racey drove to Gratis the day after receiving the cash envelope, and then back to Atlanta after speaking with Delroy. Even after a very brief meeting, Racey was pretty sure he had Delroy’s figured. He was a lawyer who got personally involved, underpricing himself when the client needed help and didn’t have the money “just then.” Lawyers like him were too self-righteous for Racey’s taste, looking to be involved in something bigger than themselves. He could see it written all over Delroy’s liquor-mottled face.

  The dumbass probably drinks to forget every client he thinks he failed.

  He shook his head with disgust. Drinking he was fine with, but not regret. Life was too short.

  Racey went to the Highland Tap upon returning from Gratis. He needed a good martini to wash away the dust that coated his throat from the sisters’ washed-out driveway. Delroy’s old Suburban had kicked up a brown blizzard.

  My God, why would anyone want to buy way out there? There’s nothing to do or see unless you count deer trying to commit suicide by car.

  Racey smiled, glad he was deeply situated in Atlanta’s bosom. It suited him.

  One martini turned into two, and then three. Racey spoke with some of the regulars he knew by name. He didn’t get too deep into any conversation, however. His mind spun with scenarios of what he would do with his fee once his client bought the sisters’ land. Most of them involved him being naked somewhere in the Caribbean for at least a couple of months, watching the days turn into nights through rum-soaked sunglasses. He just needed to get the deal done.

  He hoped that Delroy Jones could convince the sisters to sell and be done with it. The sisters would get enough money live out their days in Gratis, waiting for something, anything, to finally happen.

  God, what a waste of a couple million dollars.

  He smiled at the thought of what, and who, he would do with that kind of money.

  Then his thoughts turned to what to do if they refused to sell. He knew it could happen. Some folks grew attached to their land, attached to the idea of being one with it. He mulled the thought, bouncing it around his gin-soaked mind, and decided not to worry about it that night. This was a night to celebrate, to think of women in bikinis pouring rum into blenders. Tomorrow would be the time to strategize, to plan how to handle this new opportunity.

  Racey ordered another martini and looked around the bar, wondering where the night would take him. He was ready for anything.

  7.

  Claudia approached the bridge going into Gratis, pushing her carriage over the gravel and ruts on the side of the road. The bike wheels she put on the carriage made pushing easier than the original wheels, but some parts of the road were still a struggle. As she neared the bridge she went around a puddle the size of a small pond. Claudia knew from experience it was at least two feet deep in the middle. She could go straight through, but her feet always blistered when she walked in wet shoes.

  The trip over the bridge was uneventful, with no one yelling at her or driving too closely beside her. She was glad of it. As thick as her skin was, she still dreaded the awful words flung at her—along with the trash and half-empty beer cans.

  She watched all morning, making sure to look closely at those places that needed it. There were two houses on her route she had her eye on. Claudia made sure to walk very slowly past those homes, to keep vigilant. She looked closely at the houses, at the yards, and in the ditches in front. Clues could be anywhere.

  She was also going into town to see Delroy. When she got home two nights before, Jewel was waiting for her on the back porch. Beside her were two empty cartons of orange push-ups.

  When asked why she ate all the push-ups, Jewel responded that she needed to eat them so the devil-man wouldn’t come into the house. In all she ate fifteen, the sticks strewn beside the old recliner like discarded chicken bones. Jewel told her about Delroy making the devil-man go away, and how she had her knife in case the devil-man didn’t know she was eating the orange push-ups.

  That day was altogether too eventful for Jewel. She slept fitfully, dreaming of devil-men with pitchforks made of discarded ice cream sticks. It took Claudia most of Sunday to get her sister into a somewhat normal state. This involved playing “Rhinestone Cowboy” over and over, at least twenty times. It was Jewel’s favorite song.

  The next morning, it took longer than usual to get Jewel situated on the back porch. Finally managing to do so, Claudia went to see Delroy. She needed to know more about the devil-man, and why he was so near her sister. The thought of Jewel protecting herself with push-ups and a butcher knife chilled her.

  Claudia wheeled up to Delroy’s office shortly before lunch. Delroy kept his office in the downstairs of his house, a block off the town square in Gratis. He used the living room as a lobby, and made the dining room into his actual office. The small front den was used by his part-time secretary, Toots Bulloch, who only worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

  The first thing Toots saw as Claudia came into the door was the front of the carriage. Little clumps of mud came off the wheels and onto the carpet. Claudia apologized, but Toots didn’t mind. She liked Claudia.

  “Well come on in, Miss Claudia. I’ll get Delroy. You want anything to drink? Maybe some sweet tea?”

  Claudia shook her head to decline and stood behind her carriage. Toots started to get Delroy, but he came out of the office before she could. He rolled back the pocket door that separated the old dining room from the lobby.

  “Hi, Claudia. I’ve been expecting you to come see me this morning. Come on in.”

  Claudia wheeled the carriage into his office, and Delroy rolled the door shut behind her. He went to his chair and sat down, facing Claudia on the other side of the desk. He would’ve offered her a seat, but knew she preferred to stand. He didn’t push her about it.

  “Who was the devil-man? Why does Jewel think he’s afraid of butcher knives and orange sherbet?”

  Delroy smiled. Claudia didn’t mince words. He explained to her the events of the Saturday before, and how he met Racey Bridges in her front yard. Delroy then told her that Racey was inquiring about the land, just like the other two men earlier in the month.

  Claudia listened silently, her face not betraying whether she heard or cared about what Delroy was telling her. He then told her about speaking with Kero, and that he wanted to call and find out what kind of offers were being made. At that point, it became evident that Clau
dia heard everything he said—and definitely cared.

  “I have told you that we are not interested. Cousin Kero does not own the land, we do. That is our house, our farm, and that is where we live. I know that, out there, Jewel is safe.”

  Delroy knew that she meant Jewel was safe from others and from harming others. Still, he agreed with Kero that living out there wasn’t optimal for the sisters. The old house didn’t have central air or heat, so summers meant sitting under the window units. In the winter, they kept gas heaters burning in every room. Delroy was afraid they would burn the house down around them.

  “Claudia, just let me call them and see what’s going on. You never know. I think we should at least hear what offers we can get.”

  Claudia grabbed her carriage and looked down while answering. “You can call all you want. Not gonna change my mind.”

  With that, she wheeled the carriage back through the house and onto the street. She was done with her attorney meeting, and there was a whole half day of watching left to do. Claudia had another place on her list she wanted to check closely.

  Toots went into Delroy’s office after she left.

  “Well Delroy, looks like you’ve charmed another client. Of course, she’s not really paying much besides whatever you get out of Kero. But still, nice job.” She smiled at Delroy and went back to her desk in the den.

  God, if Toots wasn’t in the Gratis Drum and Bugle Corps with Mom back in high school, I would fire her so damn quick. Well, except that she’s cheap . . . and good.

  Toots gave Delroy a hard time, but she also kept him organized. If he was late to court, she would call and make it all okay. She also wasn’t afraid to call a client who didn’t seem to want to pay their bill. Delroy needed an enforcer. He found one in a white-haired old lady who made a mean pecan pie. Catching a little hell from her was worth it.

  Delroy also had the answer he needed from Claudia. She wasn’t enthused about what he had to tell her, but at least she didn’t forbid him from seeing what kind of offers he could get. It wasn’t much of a start, but more of one than before she came to the office.

  Racey Bridges left a voicemail on Saturday, asking him to call regarding the land. Delroy waited to return that call, purposefully letting Racey twist for a couple of days. He didn’t want to look too eager. Also, Racey had that dead, shark-eyed look he didn’t miss from his time practicing law in Atlanta years ago. The smile he gave Delroy was as foreign to his face as the Audi was to the Peterses’ driveway. Delroy didn’t trust him, not at all.

  But hell, he’s from Atlanta, so that’s nothing new.

  Delroy grimaced at the thought of calling Racey and the full-of-shittery he would have to deal with. He wanted to get a drink, but it was way too early for that. There was real work to do. Besides, Toots was in the other room. She let Delroy hear it whenever he made a bad decision, which for her included his early drinking. Delroy outweighed her by eighty pounds, but that didn’t matter. Toots was one old lady he just didn’t mess with, no matter how thirsty he was.

  8.

  Racey was getting impatient. He called Delroy that Saturday after he got back from Gratis, and still had not heard from him by two o’clock the next Monday. He realized he was more than just impatient—Racey was getting pissed off.

  Hell, you’d think I was trying to sell something to him. You’d think I wasn’t trying to give a few million dollars to his clients. I wonder how long he waits when somebody is calling with bad news?

  Racey knew how quickly he would move if in Delroy’s shoes. He would’ve gotten the offer to his client that same Saturday. If the funds were available, he could find a closing attorney to get them to the table by the end of the week. The party-time champagne would flow no later than the following Friday night.

  Small-town attorneys, though, treated urgency like it was a bad word. They waited, probably thinking everything over while fishing or some other awful thing. The thought crawled all over Racey. Only the diazepam coursing through his veins kept him from throwing his too-silent phone against the office door.

  Racey was googling “Bahamian escort services” when the phone finally came to life. He picked it up on the third ring. It was Delroy, trying to sound disinterested and bored. He told Racey that he had the go-ahead from his client to call him, and asked Racey what he could do for him.

  “Well, Delroy, I think it’s what I can do for you. I have a client interested in the Peterses’ land, as you know. This client has asked me to make an offer on the land that I believe your clients will have a hard time turning down.” Racey was sure he was right about that. The dollar figure his client had approved was almost twice the value of the land. Of course, his first offer would be a little lower than that. Delroy would expect him to lowball his first offer, and there was no way he would take it. He counted on that, and would make sure to let Delroy haggle him up. The bigger the price, the bigger his 5 percent. Racey never left money on the table.

  “So, Delroy, how about telling me what your clients want for their land? I would surely like to see whether we can match it.” He wondered if Delroy was simple enough to start the dealing and lowball himself.

  Delroy was not.

  “Tell you what, Mr. Bridges, just give me a number. Let’s see whether your client is serious or not.”

  Racey smiled. Okay. Now, this game is about to start.

  “Well, Delroy, I appreciate that you want a number. I assure you my client is very serious, very much so. Now, I know the land down there, all along Cap Jackson Road and on the river, is generally appraised at a little under four thousand an acre. That’s for the good acres, not the ones too prone to flooding or too swampy. I also know that the sisters have a good bit of low land, too low, on their parcel. I’d say from my understanding that maybe two hundred and eighty acres are really good ones.” Racey wanted to go ahead and set the edge with Delroy on this negotiation. He wanted him to know that he had done his homework.

  Delroy was ready for him. “Bridges, look. Down here all the land on the river is good land. If some of it is lower than other parts, we call it ‘wetland’ and sell it to people from Atlanta for twice the price. We’ll let them be a part of saving the environment, making sure all the ducks and beavers have a place to live. They do seem to enjoy living in a sanctuary. Who wouldn’t?”

  Racey smiled again. Delroy Jones might not be quite as slow as he believed.

  “All right then, I hear you. We could go back and forth, but like I said, we’re serious. My client is ready to pay six thousand an acre for all of it—including the wetlands and the pretty ducks and beavers.”

  “Well.”

  Delroy wasn’t sure what to say when he heard “six thousand an acre.” That was a number he didn’t expect.

  “Well . . .” he said again, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’ll bring the number to my clients. Your client does sound serious, and six thousand is a good place to start.” Delroy knew that Racey had to see through his bland response. He fairly itched, uncomfortable now with his own bullshittery.

  Racey laughed out loud. “Yes, Delroy. Like I said, he is serious as he can be. Can we talk tonight?”

  “No. I’ll call you tomorrow. My clients aren’t available this moment, and I have to go to court. Tomorrow, around three or so.” He hung up without saying good-bye. This call was all business. Exchanging pleasantries only diluted his position.

  Usually, Delroy would jump out of his chair at that kind of number and contact his client immediately. But these clients were the Peters sisters. He needed to think about what he would say to them. If rushed, Claudia would shut down. It wouldn’t matter how big the offer was. Delroy needed to think.

  Racey, on the other hand, sat at his desk looking at his phone after Delroy hung up.

  That son of a bitch should have dropped whatever glass of moonshine he was holding and run to get his clients. Dumbass.

  He was starting to believe that this project, which should be the easiest money he ever made, might
be more difficult than expected. He was also starting to worry about this small-town lawyer, if only a little.

  And he hung up on me. I thought those gnat farmers down there were supposed to be a little nicer than we are. If I wanted rude, I’d go downtown and let a bum yell at me for not giving him a dirty dollar.

  Racey noticed the shadows starting to crawl across his office. He decided to go a couple of blocks over to George’s and get a burger. After that, he was going home. The week was still brand-new, and he needed to do some thinking of his own.

  If I can’t get one over on these small-town idiots, then I really did deserve to lose my law license. What the hell?

  9.

  Mister Brother was unsatisfied with the father-and-son chats he had treated himself to over the last few weeks. He loved Dad, but nobody understood him like Mom. Even when she didn’t understand him, she loved him and had a way of making him feel loved. Being so close to Dad again had just reminded him of how much he missed her.

  Lately, he got up and went to work every day, but never stayed past noon. Mister Brother knew it was irresponsible to spend so little time at work, but his staff was well trained. They could do fine without him. Anyway, he deserved a little break from it all—the constant work, the constant loneliness. He didn’t realize how hard it had been until he found Dad again.

  The family time with only Dad, though, was more like a father-son camping trip. It was great, but it wasn’t real. The everyday of family life, having Mom and Dad together and around you, that was real.

  He started looking for Mom.

  After a few weeks, he found her. He first saw her waiting in the room beside his office, not too far from where he found Dad. This didn’t surprise him. When he was a child, his parents were always near each other. He remembered them always holding hands. Back then he didn’t think about it, but it struck him after they were gone. Looking through the old family photo albums, he even noticed them holding hands in most of their pictures together. He was next to so much love, never realizing it until it was gone.