Southern Gentlemen

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Southern Gentlemen Page 25

by Jennifer Blake


  “Carolina?”

  Billy Ray looked up to see an attractive redhead with a toddler perched on her hip. He got to his feet in unconscious good manners, and Carolina looked up at the same moment. A few seconds passed before she responded.

  “Taylor, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Carolina nodded, but her expression didn’t warm.

  “I really am sorry. I deserted you when you needed me. It was unforgivable.” Taylor’s dark gaze traveled to Billy Ray. “Hello, Billy Ray. We were in high school together, remember?”

  He only vaguely recognized her from high school, when he had been so involved in taking care of his father that he hadn’t participated in many activities. Nowadays he knew Taylor as the wife of the River County state’s attorney, John Betz.

  “May we sit a moment?” Taylor said.

  Billy Ray held out a chair, and she sat. He did, too.

  “How are you?” Taylor asked Carolina. “You look wonderful.”

  “I’m feeling well, thank you.”

  “I understand you’ve moved?”

  “News travels fast.”

  “Not fast enough sometimes.” Taylor’s gaze flicked to Kitten and Chris, who were just finishing their ice cream. “Kitten, my Mandy’s over in the corner. Do you want to go say hi to her?”

  “Can I?” Kitten asked her mother.

  “May I. You bet. Scoot.”

  Kitten got up, and Chris followed. Kitten grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her.

  “I have something to say to Carolina,” Taylor told Billy Ray.

  He pushed back his chair, but Carolina put her hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. “There’s nothing you could say that Billy won’t hear straight from me, anyway,” Carolina said.

  “Fine. It’s about the party, Carolina.”

  For a moment Carolina looked blank; then she paled before Billy Ray’s eyes. “The party…in December?”

  Taylor nodded. “Is it true you don’t remember that night?”

  “For what my word is worth? Yes, it’s true.”

  “Your word is all I’ll ever need.”

  Carolina leaned across the table. “What’s this about, Taylor? I nearly died, but you didn’t visit me in the hospital. You were my best friend, but you fell off the face of the earth.”

  “John wouldn’t let me visit. He said Judge Grayson wanted everybody to stay away. And I was fool enough to do what he wanted. But that’s not what this is about.” She leaned across the table, too. “I hear the judge filed for custody of your kids.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re the best mother I know.”

  Carolina waited.

  Taylor looked as if she was going to cry. “We were at the party that night with you and Champ. You and I spent a lot of time together. You were upset, although you wouldn’t say why. But I stayed nearby most of the night, because I was worried about you. I never saw you take a drink. Not the whole time we were there. Not once.”

  Carolina didn’t respond. Billy Ray could see her fighting for control of her emotions.

  “I’m representing Carolina at the custody hearing,” Billy Ray said, to give Carolina some time.

  “John says you’re the best attorney in town.”

  Billy Ray had been up against John Betz too many times to take the compliment at face value. John was firmly entrenched in the politics of Moss Bend, and a close friend of the Grayson family. If John was commenting on Billy Ray’s prowess as an attorney, it was because he knew the judge intended to pull out all the stops at the hearing.

  “Carolina is going to need character witnesses,” he said. “Will you be willing to tell Judge Sawyer what you’ve told us tonight?”

  “If I do, John will crucify me.”

  “Then it sounds as if you’re going to have to choose between your husband and your best friend again, Taylor.”

  “Billy—” Carolina put her hand on his arm to stop him. “Don’t worry about it,” she told Taylor. “But thanks for telling me, even if you can’t tell the court.”

  Taylor stared at her; then she nodded grimly. “Carolina, you go on and call me as a witness. I’ll tell every little thing I know about that night and any other. John can be damned. I watched a bully named Champ Grayson tear my best friend apart bit by bit I’m not going to let my husband do the same thing to me.

  When the ice cream was finished Billy Ray took Carolina back to his house to get her car.

  “Can we see Three Legs?” Kitten clasped her hands in supplication. “Please?”

  “Sure. But she’s not in the barn anymore.” Billy Ray led them toward the house.

  Carolina took his arm. “I didn’t notice her earlier. Billy, have you gone all soft and squishy? Are you keeping that flea-bitten animal in your house?”

  He tried not to squirm. “You were busy with other things, if I recall. And there’s not a flea in sight. The vet says she’s in perfect health. And with the kittens due…”

  “Every mother-in-need in the state of Florida is going to be on your doorstep once the word gets out about you.”

  He unlocked the door, doing a visual check first to be sure nothing was out of place. The locks were new, and so was the caution. After what had happened at Joel’s, he knew better than to take chances.

  Three Legs, a moth-eaten calico who was fast plumping up under Billy’s care, had made herself at home on his infamous sofa. The children petted her carefully, and she preened at their attention.

  “What do you think about the things Taylor said?” Carolina spoke quietly as she watched Kitten and Chris from the doorway. “If she testifies that I wasn’t drinking that night, won’t that go a long way toward destroying the judge’s case against me?”

  “Honey, she couldn’t have been with you all night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the Graysons’ attorney will probably use Taylor’s testimony against you. He’ll say that since the court has in its possession a test that proves you had been drinking, then obviously you were very good at keeping your problem a secret. Which could explain why so many people were fooled.”

  “I can’t win, can I?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, but you are saying that every good thing that’s said about me can be turned around and used to take my children away.”

  “What I’m saying is that we have to be realistic. One person won’t make the difference. But half a dozen or more may very well. We have the right to hire an expert to examine you and the Graysons to determine your relative fitness to parent the children. I know the woman who the court will most probably appoint to interview the kids. She can’t be bought. I’m sure she’ll recommend it’s in their best interest to remain with you.”

  “But the Graysons can hire an expert, too, can’t they?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Billy Ray, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose.”

  He tried not to imagine that possibility. In the days since he had taken Carolina as a client and pitted himself against the Grayson family, he’d been both warned and admonished by his colleagues in the local bar association. No one thought he had a chance. Everyone who had dared to discuss the case with him thought that his decision was professional suicide. Judge Grayson would destroy him. No client would dare ask Billy Ray for representation after this. When the smoke cleared, Judge Grayson would still be sitting on the bench. Judge Grayson would be ruling for or against Billy Ray’s clients. Judge Grayson—no matter what the outcome of the custody hearing—would exact revenge on Billy Ray.

  But his career was secondary to something even more important. If he wasn’t able to secure custody for Carolina, how would she view him? Forever after, would he be the man who had failed her at the most important moment of her life?

  She seemed to read his thoughts. “I trust you, Billy. I know you’re doing all you can.”

  But was he? And even if he
did everything humanly possible, was he going to win?

  “So, Three Legs. It’s just us.” Billy Ray stretched out in an easy chair, since Three Legs was refusing to give up her sofa. Carolina and the children had gone home for the night and arrived safely. She had called to say good-night.

  “I wish I were there with you,” she’d said before hanging up. “I wish Joel hadn’t come to your door, too.”

  Lord, he wished the very same thing.

  “So, Three, what do you think? Maybe I ought to stuff all of you in one of my old junk cars and head for the border come midnight. Forget River County and everything that’s ever gone with it.”

  Joel had told him as much earlier that night, when Billy Ray walked the old man out to his car after Joel had caught him with Carolina.

  “Next time, I’ll call ahead,” Joel had said gruffly. “Your shirttail’s still hanging out.”

  Billy Ray had given an embarrassed laugh but no denial.

  Joel had clapped him on the back. “She’s the best thing ever happened to you, boy. Take her and run. Start over somewheres else. Don’t stay around this place on account of me.”

  Now Three Legs meowed and changed positions, as if she was trying to get comfortable. Billy Ray popped the tab on a can of Dixie beer. Joel wasn’t the only reason he and Carolina had to stay here and meet their fate. Self-respect was another. And what kind of life would it be for the children if they were constantly on the run? The judge had all the resources that he and Carolina didn’t.

  He flipped on the television, but the Braves game had been rained out, and none of the sitcoms looked appealing. Even with a mountain of work to do, he couldn’t seem to get out of the chair. He propped the beer between his legs and closed his eyes. Visions of a life with Carolina moved through his mind. Carolina waking up in the morning beside him. Carolina at night in his arms. Making love to her with nothing between them except heat and desire.

  When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, Doug Fletcher was rapping on his window.

  He let Doug in, although he checked the shadows first to make sure his boyhood friend was alone. “What’s black and blue and black and blue?” he asked as Doug joined him in the narrow hall.

  “Shit, I don’t know, Billy Ray. You’re the one with all the answers.”

  “Well, I don’t know, either, but I can sure as hell tell you it’s not going to be me.”

  “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

  “Good thing. The last time we went hand to hand, I knocked out one of your teeth.”

  “Shit, I was nine, and it was loose to start with. Goddamned Tooth Fairy gave me a nickel, and I was lucky to get that.”

  Billy Ray started back to the living room. “If you want a beer, you know where to find one.”

  Doug joined him a moment later, a Dixie clutched in his hand. He took a seat beside Three Legs, who was twisting again, trying to get comfortable.

  “Whose no ‘count cat is that?”

  “I guess she’s mine.”

  “She’s about to have kittens. Did you know?”

  Billy Ray took a long swallow before he spoke. “Why’d you come, Doug? I notice it’s dark outside. Is this how we’re going to meet from now on? So the judge won’t know?”

  Doug didn’t deny it. “You’ve got a good thing here, Billy Ray. You know that, don’t you?”

  “What good thing are we talking about?”

  “This house is yours. The office in town belongs to you, the flower shop, too. Lots of folks in River County look up to you. Maybe you’ll never be on anybody’s Dream Team or take big, important cases right on up to the Supreme Court, but you’ll always have work here.”

  “So?”

  “So what are you giving it all up for?”

  Billy Ray considered, working on the beer a little at a time. “What makes you think I’m giving it up?”

  “The judge is going to beat you to a bloody pulp.”

  “Hey, now, that’s some fine police work, Doug. You finally figured out who was responsible for that little incident at Joel’s.”

  “We both know who was behind it.”

  Billy Ray was surprised to hear Doug admit it. “Just tell me, were you in on it before it happened?”

  Doug shook his head, and Billy Ray believed him. They had been friends too long for Doug to lie successfully.

  “So…just after the fact,” Billy Ray said, raising his can in toast.

  “I don’t even know who was there that night. I was just told it wouldn’t be worth my while to look too hard.”

  “Since when did you ever do what you were told?”

  “Since Judge Grayson got behind me in the last election.”

  “Interesting. If I’d had to make a guess, that’s what I would have said, too.”

  “Do you know what it’s like to go from being lower than dirt to being sheriff?”

  “You were never lower than dirt. You come from good people. Honest, hardworking people.”

  “Who never had a nickel, never had a day’s education beyond grammar school, never had any dreams except maybe selling the next litter of hogs for a little more money. I slept under flour sack quilts, got one new pair of shoes a year, even if my feet grew. Shit, Billy Ray. I’m the first River County Fletcher to make anything out of himself.”

  “Yeah, you’ve made something out of yourself, all right. You’ve made yourself the fall guy for a puffed-up, sadistic county judge with delusions of grandeur.”

  To his credit, Doug flinched. He finished half his beer before he spoke again. “Let somebody else defend Carolina Grayson. And leave her alone. If you don’t, you’re going to lose more than this case. You’re going to lose everything.”

  “Not if the people of this town stand together and tell the truth about Carolina. The judge’s day of reckoning has come. But it’s going to take some cooperation to make it happen.”

  “He’s got this town clutched tight in his fist. Nothing you can do will change a damned thing.” Doug finished his beer.

  Billy Ray figured that Doug had said what he’d come to say. He expected him to put down the can and head for his car. But Doug wasn’t quite finished.

  “Do you know why your father started drinking, Billy Ray?”

  “Does this have something to do with what we’ve been talking about?”

  Doug sat forward, dangling the can between his knees. “Did Yancy ever tell you why he couldn’t face himself every night? Why he had to drink himself into a stupor just to survive?”

  “Nope, he never did. And I doubt that he told you, either, since you were a snot-nosed little kid. As far as I know, nobody knows. He was an alcoholic. He drank. That’s it.”

  “Somebody knows. The judge knows.”

  Billy Ray let that wash over him. He knew that his father had nursed an abiding hatred of Judge Whittier Grayson, but he’d never wanted to think much about it. His memories of his father were painful, and he’d tried to bury them. Yancy was dead, and the old saw about sleeping dogs had always made sense to Billy Ray.

  “Why don’t you just get on with it?” he asked at last. “Say what you’ve come to say, then get out of my house.”

  “I don’t know details, just a little the judge told me.”

  “Uh-huh. And that was…?”

  “Your daddy tried to stand up to the Grayson family, but he wasn’t strong enough. In the end he sold out, just like everybody else ever has. It didn’t come out too badly. He made some real money off the deal, but he had nothing much to spend it on….”

  “So he started drinking?”

  “That’s the story.” Doug got to his feet. “That’s all I know.”

  “Why did he hate the judge so much if he made good money off the deal, supposing that’s really what happened?”

  “Because he didn’t make as much as he thought he should have. The judge said that Yancy thought his loyalty was worth more, and he carried a grudge to his dying day.”

  “This is just fas
cinating,” Billy Ray said cynically. “Trouble is, without any details, it sounds like a pack of lies.”

  “Look, it had something to do with a case Yancy was working on, back in the seventies. You want to find out more, just figure out when your daddy started drinking and work back from there.”

  Billy Ray did have his father’s records. The firm had been housed in the same office, and in the years between Yancy’s death and Billy Ray’s return to Moss Bend, the files had been stored in the office attic, where they still resided.

  “Why’d you tell me this?”

  “To show you that you can’t win. Nobody ever wins against the Graysons. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I already got hurt. Remember that little case you forgot to investigate?”

  “That was nothing.”

  “Just a warning?”

  Doug shook his head and looked sincerely sad. “Not a warning, a reminder. This is Moss Bend, Billy Ray. This is River County. And when it comes right down to it, you forgot you were a nobody, just like me.”

  9

  The weeks before the hearing passed too quickly. Billy Ray worked late every night to find more people who would testify on Carolina’s behalf. The hours didn’t really matter. Between Carolina’s new job, the children, and interviews with both the psychologists she had hired and the psychiatrist hired by the Gray-sons, she had no free time to spend with him, anyway. They made do with telephone calls and an occasional hastily snatched meal with the children and sometimes even Maggie. Once she brought the children to his house after work to view Three Legs’ lone new kitten, but Billy Ray could feel the tension building inside him. Despite all Carolina’s reassurances, he knew that if he failed her, their chances of any kind of future together were nonexistent.

  On the night before the hearing, he sat at his desk poring over his strategy. Never had he been so hampered by circumstances. Although it was unfair, he knew that the custody ruling would rest heavily on the events surrounding Champ’s death. In the end, Judge Sawyer would base his decision on what sort of woman Carolina was. Had Carolina run her car off the road because she’d had too much to drink, as the Gray-sons claimed? Or, worse, had she, in retaliation for years of abuse, tried to kill her husband? The record showed that she had been wearing her seat belt, but Champ had not. In desperation, had she prayed that she might save her own life and kill her tormentor?

 

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