Walking Woman (Gratis Book 2)
Page 8
“Help Jewel?” Tommy had heard Delroy sing this tune before, in the same horse-apple key.
“You want to help her? Here’s how you help her. Get her to plea to a charge of aggravated assault on a police officer. Beg the judge to only give her five or ten years and hope he’s weak enough to do it. This woman has a history of attacking men with badges. You know that as well as anyone.”
The sermon from that morning stumbled around in his head. Tommy reminded himself not to turn Delroy’s other cheek with his now-quivering boot.
“Jail? Not a chance, Sheriff. You know she’s ill and needs care. You also know that something’s not right. Jewel doesn’t just walk into town on her own. She’s usually too afraid to get out of her chair and leave her back porch. So you tell me: why did Jewel Peters walk into town looking for Claudia, when Claudia always comes home to take care of her? What would make her leave home?”
Tommy was angry, but still the elected sheriff. It was his duty to take everything into consideration and do what was right. After all these years, that was still important. He knew Delroy was trying to speak his mojo at him.
Sounds like some sort of damn hoodoo root-doctor lawyer.
But he made some sense. Tommy was also suspicious of why Jewel had come into town.
“Well, Delroy, it’s my job to charge them and your job to set them free. I have no idea why she came into town, but I imagine most of her actions don’t really have a reason. I feel bad for her about that . . . she is pitiful. The thing is this, though: she was witnessed, by a lot of folks, charging a deputy with a knife in her hand. We got the knife in evidence. That thing is eight inches long. She could butcher a hog with it.”
Delroy nodded his head while Tommy talked. He wanted Tommy to think he was somewhat reasonable. He also wanted him to keep talking and tell what he knew.
“So we’re going to charge her, and once she gets out of the hospital she’s going to be in my jail. We’ll keep her in the medical ward. No one will be near her except the nurse and any doctors who need to treat her. I have to do something, though. She’s attacked two officers in four years, Delroy. I really can’t do anything less, and I think you know that.”
Delroy wouldn’t admit it, but Tommy was right. He just wanted to start Jewel’s defense as quickly as possible. There was no place better to do that than with the sheriff, face-to-face.
“Well, Tommy, I hope you at least send some investigators out to Jewel’s house. At least look around and see what they can find. You won’t have to worry about Claudia being out there. She’s been at the hospital with her sister since the shooting.”
Tommy looked down, not saying anything for a moment out of respect for Claudia. He knew this was hard on her, and he regretted it.
“Well, I was already gonna send some folks out there today. Since you’ve suggested it, we won’t need a warrant to look around. I doubt we’ll find anything, but I’ll do it anyway. I am correct, Delroy, that we have consent to look around the place?”
Delroy smiled at Tommy and answered. “I don’t have any explicit authority to give consent to search the place. I just represent the sisters. I don’t live with them.”
Tommy smiled back. He knew Delroy wouldn’t give consent, just in case they found something damning against Jewel. The man didn’t want to hang his own client. It didn’t matter, though, as Tommy had already had the magistrate sign off on a search warrant. Unknown to Delroy, seven deputies were searching the Peters home as they spoke.
“How’s Kero taking all this?”
Delroy considered his answer before giving it. Kero was a man no one wanted to cross. He had almost as many siblings and cousins as Tommy—and enough money to make things happen at election time.
“Well, Sheriff, let’s just say he ain’t happy about it. Nope, not happy at all.”
With that, Delroy turned and left. It was always good to leave an opponent with a little unease. It kept them honest.
Tommy sat down in his chair and cursed under his breath. Delroy was a real pain, always had been. Now, with him and Anna talking about marriage, that real pain was about to become family.
The things we do for love, thought Tommy.
Shaking his head, he left and made his way to the parking lot. It was a beautiful day, too sunny to sit inside. He got into his cruiser and made his way toward Cap Jackson Road and the sisters’ house. It was good, from time to time, for his men to see him help with searches. Also, he had his own questions about Jewel. Going to the scene in person always helped him understand a case better than any report.
Anyway, if I don’t get busy, I’ll just keep thinking about turning Delroy’s other cheek. If I think about it too much, I might get weak and do it. It’s gonna be hard enough being around him, smiling at him across the table while carving the Thanksgiving turkey, as it is.
20.
The next few days were a blur for Delroy. His first job was making sure Claudia was all right. Toots stayed with her at the hospital, not wanting her to be alone while she waited to see Jewel. It was Monday before she actually saw her sister, who was in the ICU until then.
Jewel was a mess. Her kneecap was shattered by the shooting. The doctors informed Toots that they may be unable to save her leg. Even if they did, her mobility, already limited by her weight, would be severely affected.
The kneecap was the least of her problems. The other two shots collapsed a lung and damaged several internal organs. Her spleen was removed immediately. The surgery itself lasted several hours due to the internal wounds that had to be sutured before she bled out. Given her already-compromised health, she was put into a medically induced coma after surgery. When her sister saw her on Monday, Jewel was still unconscious and knew nothing of the visit.
Claudia protested, but Toots insisted she stay with her and her three cats, Tic, Tac, and Toe “at least until your sister wakes up.” Worn down by the exhaustion of constant worry, Claudia finally accepted her offer. Toots lived only two miles from the hospital, an easy distance for Claudia to push her carriage to see Jewel. The deputies stationed outside of the room took pity on Claudia and let her go in, carriage and all, when she was there. There was no way the carriage could be used to help Jewel sneak out. No amount of rebar would hold that mass.
With Claudia situated, Delroy’s next worry was Kero. His friend maintained an even temperament but took family seriously. Delroy wasn’t sure how he would react to news of the shooting. It wasn’t a good sign that Kero packed up his family and came home from Tybee on Saturday, a day earlier than expected.
Kero called him that Saturday morning, and they planned to meet. Delroy offered to meet him at Daddy Jack’s, but Kero insisted on coming to his office. Delroy agreed. He was surprised that Kero wanted to meet at his office—and disappointed he wouldn’t be eating Daddy Jack’s barbecue for lunch.
Kero walked through Delroy’s front door a little before noon. He came with a bag of barbecue sandwiches and a jug of sweet tea. Kero couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to make sure there was something to eat when serious talking was done. He didn’t want Delroy thinking about how hungry he was—not that day.
He walked into Delroy’s office and sat down.
“Well, I brought you a little lunch. I figured those Vienna sausages you probably opened wouldn’t get you through the meeting. You got any cups?”
Delroy produced a couple of Solo cups from the credenza behind his desk. He poured the tea while Kero handed out the sandwiches. Delroy smiled while he poured. One tin of Vienna sausages was exactly the contents of his kitchen, if you didn’t count the mustard in the refrigerator. Actually, it was an empty tin, because his appetizer course consisted of Viennas with mustard while he had waited for Kero.
“Thank you for bringing the food and coming here, Kero. Of course, I’m always glad to walk down to Daddy Jack’s.”
Kero looked at his friend.
I know you’re always happy to walk down there and stumble your ass back home, too.
Delroy nodded his head. “Well, I already figured that, Kero. You know I’m on this like she was my cousin, too. Toots is at the hospital with Claudia, waiting to see her if they get the okay from the doctors. I’m—”
Kero cut him off. “Delroy, I know you’ll treat this as a real friend, and buddy, you’re the realest damn friend I got. Forget you’re my friend for a moment, though. I need you to tell me what to do like you don’t care how it makes me feel. I know that’s gonna be hard, because that’s a hard thing to do with a friend. So here.”
Kero pulled an envelope out of the sandwich sack and slid it across the desk. Delroy opened it, getting barbecue sauce on his hands as he did so. He pulled out a check.
“Kero, I don’t need your money. Hell, I’ve downed an ocean of bourbon in your place, not to mention all the food—”
Kero cut his friend off for the second time.
“You’ll take the money. I feed you, sure, but you’ve repaid that with what you’ve already done for me and my family. This thing is pretty big, and it’s gonna take considerable time. I need you for a little bit, and I know you have to pay your bills. Take the check, pay your mortgage and pay Toots, and help me figure out what to do here.”
Delroy did as his friend told him and took the check. The truth was that he needed it. His business had been a little off since the summer before, when he defended Newt on the murder charges. Folks still resented him for defending a person who was believed, if for only a few weeks, to be a serial killer. Newt’s eventual innocence didn’t seem to matter. The whole thing stained Delroy and took money out of his pocket.
“There’s another thing, Delroy. I want you to defend my cousin, but I’m a reasonable man. I know Jewel has problems, big ones. I know you might be able to help her come home again, or you might not. I just want the right thing to happen, and to make it as easy on her and Claudia as possible. I owe that to her daddy, and to mine. I gave my word to both of them.”
“I know you did, Kero.” Delroy went to the kitchen and brought back a small bucket of ice. The two men got down to the business of eating barbecue and drinking tea so sweet it made their teeth hurt.
After finishing his second sandwich and pouring another Solo cup of tea for the road, Kero left his friend’s office to go to the hospital. Most of his family was already there, showing solidarity for their wounded Jewel. She may be different, but she was theirs.
Delroy could finally concentrate, now that he had more than a few Viennas in his belly. He got out a brown expandable file and a few manila folders. These would turn into the beginning of the “Jewel Peters file.” It was an old-fashioned way to organize a case, but it worked for him. You didn’t have to charge a battery to look at something on paper. Paper gave him something to hold on to. Electronic files were too ethereal for him, wisps of data that existed nowhere and everywhere. If the Georgia Bar had a Luddite Lawyers Section, he’d be the president.
Okay, we have one sister that’s gone off the deep end and charged into town with a butcher knife, chased by the devil himself. We have another sister who’s at the hospital with her and who won’t be going home for a while. They just happen to own a piece of land worth millions, with some mystery buyer after it who doesn’t want to share his or her name. There’s a jackleg Atlanta asshole who represents the mystery person, and I can tell he’s no good.
With that very little bit of information, Delroy started the file. It was a meager start, and a thin file, but it would grow quickly. He had faults, but being a disorganized attorney wasn’t one of them. The file would grow. Soon, he would know this case better than anyone.
The one thing he already knew, looking at his newly made file, was that there was one name to start with. Nothing happened with the sisters until Racey Bridges got involved. Delroy might not be a big-city attorney, but he knew true coincidences were rare. Racey had something to do with Jewel. No way she would be stuck in a hospital bed if someone didn’t want to purchase their land—and badly. Delroy didn’t need evidence to tell him that. His gut just knew.
All right, Mr. Bridges, looks like you might have made something happen here. I’m not sure, but I have ways of finding secrets, too.
With that thought he made a new folder for his file. It was labeled “RB,” and Delroy placed it in the front of the expandable file. Everything started with Racey. The rest of the case would follow.
21.
Jewel’s psychiatric evaluations, made available to Racey by a clerk at Georgia Regional, determined that she suffered from paranoid schizophrenia with distinct religious ideations. As one doctor put in his notes, “Patient adheres to a belief that the devil might be anyone, and the Bible commands her to slay that devil. When asked whether she believed in the Judeo-Christian belief of repentance and salvation, patient advised ‘not for the devil.’ Patient then asked if I was the devil or one of his demons.”
This was the weakness that Racey was looking for. Jewel needed a refuge. The home on the river was that place. Neither she nor her sister would ever leave while that was true. If he wanted his commission, that feeling of safety would need to disappear.
All Jewel needed was a little push. He had told Paulie and Flip to scare Jewel. They were explicitly told not to let her see them and, under no circumstances, to touch or hurt her in any way. Racey further told them that, considering her condition, this could be done with a few random knocks at the door, or maybe a rock against a window. He fully expected them to do no more than that. They had worked for Racey for years. He never knew them do any more than the minimum required.
Of course, this would be the one occasion they decided to go over and beyond what was asked. On the ride down to Gratis, the two agreed they didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary. If a little push would do the trick, a full-on scare session would be quicker. They wouldn’t hurt or touch Jewel, but they would damn sure give her a show.
Paulie already had smoke bombs in the trunk of the IROC. He thought a good private investigator should always have the ability to create a distraction. Lighting a smoke bomb and yelling “Fire!” had come in handy more than a few times.
“All we need to do, Flip, is start yelling at this Jewel lady and tell her the devil’s coming to get her. We’ll light a couple of these, too. She’ll think we pushed open the door to hell.”
The men stopped at a Walmart in Macon and bought black pillowcases and scissors. They made hoods from the cases in case Jewel saw them, cutting a big round hole in each so they could see. Flip suggested they get the pillowcases, saying, “they’ll make us look more like hell folk than any other color.”
They pooled together their very limited knowledge of what a devil might say to a person. Flip actually came up with the line about bathing Jewel in fire. His grandmother was a severe fundamentalist. He remembered her telling his strung-out mother that drugs were just “an invite” to the everlasting “lake of fire.” It scared him as a child. He was sure it would scare Jewel, too.
The cackling Jewel heard was their reaction to her racing out of the door in her panicked search for her sister.
“Damn, son, she looks like one of my uncle’s big old sows when she hears the feed being put in the trough. Ain’t no part of her that ain’t jiggling.” Paulie laughed at his own mean joke.
Flip could barely contain himself. He rolled in the grass five feet away from where the smoke bomb was starting to sputter out. After wheezing and laughing for a few minutes, he finally responded.
“Damn, she looked like one of those National Geographic hippos running to go eat one of those deer drinking beside the river. I think they’re called a llama or something. She is one big old dumbass.”
He kept laughing, thinki
ng about all the African llamas getting eaten by hippos.
They cleaned up the mess made by the smoke bomb. Making sure nothing more than a dark stain remained in the grass, they walked to the IROC parked a hundred yards from the sisters’ driveway. Because he believed in being prepared, Paulie also kept a police scanner in the car. Just over an hour later, they heard that a large woman with a knife was shot. Then they left.
They weren’t laughing anymore.
The trip out of Gratis was considerably quicker than the trip there. Flip finally convinced Paulie to call Racey. “Paulie, you know if I call him it’s just gonna be us calling each other ‘asshole.’ It’ll probably be worse than that.” Paulie knew his friend was right and called Racey once they turned north on I-75.
He was surprised to hear his employer remain calm. Racey simply told them to go the speed limit, get back to Atlanta, and tell anyone who asked that they didn’t leave their respective homes all day. They did exactly that, and kept driving until they realized, in their hurry, they had failed to eat since leaving that morning. Pulling off at North Avenue in Atlanta, they got some onion rings, chili dogs, and a couple of FOs at the Varsity. Paulie doctored both FOs with vodka from his flask. They both drank to a job well done, even if the result wasn’t quite expected.
At the Highland Tap, Racey was also drinking vodka—mixed with tonic and a squeeze of lime. He was not, however, celebrating a job well done. Racey had masked his anger when he was on the phone, but just barely. He sat at the bar, mulling over what to do.
It was one thing to scare a fragile person. Saying “boo,” while not the kindest thing a person can do to another, was somewhat harmless on Racey’s spectrum of “The Things I’ll do for Money.” He was ready to throw a small scare at a person if it pushed them in a profitable direction.
He was not ready to actually harm them—not usually. He did harm a person in one job he had taken a couple of years earlier. That involved a cheating husband who liked to beat up his wife. Harming bullies didn’t bother him.