by Larry Brown
“Tell me again about this group and its purpose.”
“Our group, the WBO of Polk County is a group of strong women that want to demonstrate there are many things women can do as well as men, maybe better.”
Harry’s thoughts immediately turned to the women’s liberation movement.
“Tell me what WBO stands for.” Might as well have this out with her and get it over with, this whole deal may be over before it gets started.
She answered in a soft voice, so soft Harry could not understand her.
“Women’s Business Owners of Polk County.”
“I couldn’t understand you, say again but louder.”
“Do you wear a hearing aid Harry?” she said smiling but turning away so her smile could not be seen.
“No, I don’t wear a hearing aid. My hearing is just fine, thank you. So in a normal voice say again.”
“Okay, okay, Women’s Business Owners of Polk County.”
Harry looked up at the ceiling as to invoke divine relief, and said laughingly, “What a scoundrel, you’ve been,” but before he could finish, she cut him off. “Pulling your chain I think you once told me,” she was laughing out loud and he was shaking his head and smiling.
Harry stared at her and thought, She is beautiful and she is funny. The two worked out the details of the event and agreed she would visit Harry for dinner soon. Harry drove home with a smile on his face, thinking he was the most blessed man on the planet.
Chapter 22
It was Monday mid-morning, and Harry was in his office and enjoying the memories of yesterday’s visit to Andy’s. He was working on his notes from his first round of interviews from the Polk County Sheriff’s department when his phone rang. It was Clay.
“Harry, I have some maybe not so good news. Roscoe Abernathy just left here with everything he legally could take out of here involving the shooting of the two black men at your house. He says he is probably going to file a civil suit against you for wrongful death. He says the two shots to the face prove you had to make sure they were dead so they could not testify against you. He also said it would show the world what a cruel, heartless bastard you were. I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”
Harry was quiet for a moment and then spoke, “Not your fault, Clay. This is all about publicity and votes. I am sorry he has decided to go this route. But I may have an answer for him. Maybe, just maybe, I can turn the tables on Mr. Abernathy. Clay, you have any thoughts about how I might get a third party to pass some information to Roscoe?”
“Let me think about that. Do you know what the message is going to be?”
“I do.”
“Do you mind sharing?”
“Well, I am going to speak at Andy’s Women Business Owners groups. I think we could encourage a lot of press coverage for the event. I think I can structure my talk to include political corruption and what these politicians do that is unsavory. It would be pretty easy to give a first-hand account of threats and blackmail, and everyone would know exactly who I would be talking about. If someone whispered in ole Roscoe’s ear, he might want to reconsider his civil suit.”
“That might just work. I’ll get back to you. Oh, how did the farm tour go? Andy take care of you?”
“Better than I could have hoped. She’s great. She’s coming to dinner soon.”
“Really? Hmm, I’ll get back with you.”
Clay hung up thinking about his sister but telling dispatch he needed to see Morris Canady.
Chapter 23
Hector and Felipe had hidden in the woods all day and night after the failed effort to capture the gold coins. They were so close. They had the coins and a matter of minutes separated them from success and failure. Now they were in a mess. Two of their five were dead and another in jail. The one in jail had given them up. They had their cell phones and had talked to their families. They knew the law had been to their homes looking for them. The sheriff’s department knew exactly who they were. They obviously had lost their jobs, so no more income to help the families with expenses, as modest as it was.
Their families were also impacted. The little Guatemalan community was in turmoil. Two families were grieving over the loss of their sons. Two families were angry that one of their community had ratted out their sons, making it impossible for them to return to their community. And all the families would suffer because of the income contribution from the five men. To make matters worse, there was a reward available for Hector and Felipe.
At least they had gotten away with their cell phones and weapons. Because of the reward, they could only trust their own families. They had been picked up in the middle of the night and hidden at Hector’s house. Felipe was almost continually pressing Hector for an escape plan. Hector kept telling him he had to be patient. Hector had replayed the incident at the Blakes over and over in his head. He was sure he and Felipe could get the coins without any help. The old man had not been a threat. When they had escaped, they had not realized the old man had shot one of their gang. He had fired his shotgun in the house but was never a threat. They simply needed a better escape plan. The more he thought it through, he knew it was their only hope for getting to New York and MS-13.
Chapter 24
Morris Canady listened as Clay explained what had gone on with Roscoe Abernathy and Harry. After hearing the proposed plan, Canady said, “I owe Harry, he probably saved my life. Besides I can’t stand that blowhard. I’ve always thought he hurt black causes more than he helped. He does what he does for himself and no one else. I’ll be happy to do it.”
An hour later, Morris entered Roscoe’s office. Roscoe kept him waiting 20 minutes, but he finally was allowed into Roscoe’s big office. It was luxurious. Big, oversized mahogany desk, cherry cabinets, and bookcases filled the room along with pictures of Roscoe and Barack Obama and two other Democratic presidents.
“Morris Canady, Mr. Abernathy,” he said as he entered and extended his right hand.
“Oh, I know who you are. You are our only representative at the sheriff’s department. That, by the way, will be one of my upcoming projects. Too much white power by Clay Hardaway, don’t you think?”
“Clay’s been a good boss,” Canady said without emotion.
“That’s good to hear. What can I do for you, deputy?”
“Nothing, but I think I can do something for you.”
“Well, that’s not usually the way it is when people come to see me. What can you do for me?” Roscoe was skeptical but curious.
“I thought you might want to know about a conversation I overheard between Sheriff Hardaway and Harry Blake today.” Morris paused, waiting for a response.
“You heard this today?” Morris shook his head affirmatively. “Go ahead.”
“Harry Blake is going to be the speaker at a Women Business Owners meeting. They are going to make a big deal out of this with lots of publicity. TV, newspaper, everybody they can round up. He’s going to talk up his new mini-series. He also said he was going to talk about political corruption and blackmail and when he got through, everyone would know he was talking about you. He said he was going to volunteer for private interviews on the subject. He said you have declared war on the wrong guy.”
Roscoe leaned back in his big leather chair and momentarily stared out his office window.
“Let me ask you, deputy, what do you think of the theory that’s going around?”
“What theory?”
“You haven’t heard that Harry Blake hired those two boys to kill his wife. He then killed them to make sure they didn’t talk. He viciously shot them in the face.”
Morris shook his head negatively and stared at the floor.
“I don’t understand why your department didn’t pursue this. Do you agree?”
“Actually, I don’t. I was one of the first on the scene. The crime scene told us the exact opposite of what you just said. Nobody who has the facts could ever possibly think that’s what happened.”
“What about the shot
s to their faces? He was making sure they were dead.” Roscoe was now becoming frustrated.
“It was rage. I assure you the intruders were already dead. If you don’t believe me, check with the coroner, Jesse will tell you. No, I believe what Harry told us. When it was over, he sat down and saw the shotgun blasts had violated his wife and dog and he was pissed. Rage, it was all about rage.”
Roscoe paused, looked out the window again, and said, “Deputy Canady, is there anything I could do to keep you from expressing your views in a court case. You know, if you were helping the families?”
“I think I understand what you are saying.”
“Good, I’m sure a man of Blake’s standing has a liability policy, and it wouldn’t cost him anything out of his pocket.”
Morris stood up and leaned over Roscoe’s big desk, “You know that is exactly why some people don’t trust us, because we are black. They think when it comes to white vs black, we can’t be trusted. You can find somebody else to do your dirty work. I came here to help you and you try to make me out a liar.”
“NO, NO, I didn’t mean to,” Roscoe didn’t finish his sentence because Morris Canady was gone.
Chapter 25
Judge Felton Henry had spent the last 20 minutes doing what he knew he shouldn’t have nor what he wanted to do. He had spent the time on an off the record meeting with Roscoe Abernathy. Every time he had ever met with the man, he felt like he needed a bath. The fact that Roscoe was black had nothing to do with the feeling. Twenty-eight years on the bench had proven that his court, and his rulings were colorblind.
No, it was Roscoe, he was always wheeling and dealing around the edges of the law. Roscoe had run the local NAACP the same way. He had stretched facts, redefined words, and defined situations always into racial discrimination. Hardly a month passed without Roscoe being involved in a news story. Now it appeared he was going to make a run for the Senate and he was looking for a way to have a big campaign kick-off.
Judge Henry had to give Roscoe credit, a civil suit, wrongful death against Harry Blake would involve all the news outlets. And, it did not matter one bit whether the case had any legal merit. Harry Blake might not be a celebrity, but he was a famous author, won the big award and supposedly had a mini-series in the works. He had now been involved in two break-ins at his home and had lost his wife in one of them.
With all that in mind, Roscoe could end up with all he probably wanted in the first place. He would get the publicity, and he would portray himself as the defender of the families who lost sons to a wealthy white man who possibly set them up. There would be no proof, and it would probably be thrown out. If Roscoe was lucky, he might get a trial, create some divides in the community which also gets him more time in front of the cameras. Unbelievable! Roscoe was a slimy black snake.
Judge Henry’s curiosity had been tweaked and he decided to continue in the off record mode. He picked up his phone.
“Clay, Felton Henry here. I got an off the record question for you. You aware Roscoe Abernathy may bring a wrongful death against Harry Blake with the insinuation Blake hired the black boys to kill his wife?”
Clay paused, “Yeah, Roscoe’s been here, got all the information he was entitled to get, and told me what a poor job we did for not having a major investigation of Harry.”
“Any doubts in your mind after your interrogation of Harry?”
“No sir, Roscoe cares not for justice, he only cares about his rise up the ladder.”
“I shouldn’t say this, but Clay, I think Mr. Blake should hire Mack Peters.”
“Thanks, Judge.” And he hung up.
Clay did not put his phone down. He immediately called Harry. “Harry, do you have a good local lawyer?”
“No, why, do I need one?”
“It looks like it. I think Roscoe is going forward with his suit.”
“That son of a bitch! He has no case.”
“Harry, he knows that. It’s not about winning; it’s about the publicity. It’s about making him the hero, the defender of the downtrodden.”
Harry was silent.
“Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have a good local lawyer?”
“Of course not, no reason to. Could you recommend one?”
“Of course.”
“Mack Peters, probably the meanest SOB in a courtroom in Polk County and he hates Roscoe.”
“Do you know him well enough to call him for me, Clay?”
“Yeah, I’ll call him. I’ll fill him in and tell him you will call. Don’t call him until at least tomorrow, he’s a busy guy.”
“Thanks, Clay.”
Harry started to worry now. He didn’t need this in his life especially as they made progress on the mini-series. That no good SOB.
Chapter 26
McKenzie ‘Mack’ Peters was the most known personality in the Polk County legal system. His reputation extended all the way to the state capital. The Republican Party had done everything in their power to recruit him as a national candidate. Everyone in the courthouse loved Mack. He was a friend to everyone from the janitors to the judges. As good a friend as he was to those he liked, he was the foremost SOB if you opposed him.
Mack hated those who tried to twist the truth and to finagle the law to their advantage. He had proven that he was colorblind in how he chose and handled clients. He had taken many pro bono cases where he felt someone was being prosecuted wrongly. This included blacks and whites equally. Mack was an outstanding trial lawyer. It was said when Mack stepped in front of a jury, there was no evangelist alive who could match him. In his arsenal, he carried a full range of emotions that he never failed to display.
Mack despised Roscoe Abernathy. Mack had said on many occasions, “Ol’ Roscoe would walk a mile to tell you something totally untrue versus standing right here and telling the truth.”
He and Roscoe were exact opposites. Roscoe was a big man who dressed in expensive suits, tailored shirts, silk ties and alligator shoes. As much as Mack was loved around the courthouse Roscoe was hated. He was arrogant and talked down to everyone.
Mack, on the other hand, was short, overweight, had red curly hair that always looked like he had been in a windstorm. His suits came from Belk and always needed pressing. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford better clothes; Mack charged significant fees to his clients who could afford to pay. He had a beautiful estate on the lake with a wine cellar that supposedly was better stocked than any of the finest restaurants in the state. He was just Mack being Mack. Mack and Roscoe had been on opposite sides numerous times, and Mack had never lost. When asked by a reporter recently about his thoughts on never losing to Roscoe, he commented, “We can all take heart when good overcomes evil.”
Mack was looking forward to meeting Harry Blake today.
Harry arrived at the appointed time at Mack’s office in an old downtown building. He introduced himself to the pretty young girl who was the receptionist. She immediately took him to Mack’s office and opened the door to allow Harry to enter. Mack was at his desk and on the phone.
Mack spoke, “Hold on a minute darlin’, don’t bring folks in here when I’m on the phone. Lordy.”
Harry started to back into the hallway.
“No, No, come on in.”
The two visitors’ chairs and the desk were littered with stacks of files. “Darlin’, move those files so the man can sit.”
Mack pointed at one of the chairs and turned back to the phone. "I’m back, I’ll have to call you later, but you need to consider my request. There’s just no merit here for a trial. I see, well, you have a good day.
“I’m so sorry, the girl is as dumb as a gourd, but she’s my niece and couldn’t find a job. I truly didn’t think being a receptionist would tax her so. Enough of that. McKenzie Peters, you can call me Mack. Mister Harry Blake, it’s an honor to make your acquaintance. We have so few celebrities in our upstate county.”
“Please, I don’t feel like a celebrity
.”
“Believe me, can I call you Harry? Believe me, Harry; you are a celebrity in the sight of ol’ Roscoe. Celebrity means money, and when he’s close to it, he’s like an ol’ hound in heat.” Mack said this with his best poker face. “Our mutual friend Clay allowed me to interrogate him when he called about your situation. It’s good to have a friend like Clay.”
“Does that mean you are going to take my case?”
“Let’s talk some more before we talk about that. I want to ask you some questions, and I want you to give me honest direct answers. These will be part of attorney-client private communication, so tell me the complete truth.”
“Even though we don’t have a deal yet?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Had you ever met or seen the two black men before they broke into your home?”
“Never.”
“Have you ever had a conversation with anyone about killing or harming your wife?”
“Never, ever.”
“Why did you leave the room when they pulled into your driveway?”
“I didn’t, I was already in the hallway to our bedroom.”
“Why were you there and not sitting with your wife and dog?”
“Damn, Clay told you everything.”
“Our friend is almost as thorough as yours truly.”
“I was going for a sweater. I was cold, Maggie keeps, I mean kept the house so cold.”
“So you are saying, you were just lucky.”
“No, blessed by the grace of God is what I call it.”
“Well said Harry, well said. Why did you finish killing these men by shooting them in the face?”
“I didn’t.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t shoot both men at close range in the face?”
“No, I did, but they were already dead when I shot them in the face.”
“If that’s true, why shoot them again?”
“They violated my wife, and I wanted to violate them. In retrospect, I wish I had reloaded the shotgun and blown their heads off. I was in a rage.”
