The rain began an hour before Blue came through the mudroom door carrying a load of household cleaners and a deep dish pie.
“Temperature’s dropping,” he said to Billy, and kicked off his wet shoes.
“They’re calling for ice later on,” Billy said. “Thanks for coming out.” He took Blue’s coat, noting how his friend moved as if his bones were aching. Taking care of a plantation and two old, ailing men was a wearing job.
Blue presented the pie. “A gift from Odette. It’s bourbon pecan. Still warm. She asked me to say, ‘Welcome home.’”
He took the pie, the aroma of toasted pecans and good whiskey filling his nose. It smelled like love to him.
Blue pointed to the Hank Aaron poster still tacked to the mudroom wall. “Now there’re some memories. You and me were headed for the major leagues back then. Here we are pushing thirty-five, and we’re all broke down.”
“Speak for yourself, Gramps,” he said. “I still have my glove ready to go to work.”
They went into the kitchen where he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his uncle’s electric stove. Leo stuck his head out from under the kitchen table and meowed.
Blue bent down to look at him. “You keeping this tomcat?”
“You don’t keep a cat. The cat keeps you.”
Blue grunted and straightened.
“You want coffee with your pie?” he asked.
“Sure.” Blue looked around. “The place ain’t in bad shape for having stood empty five years.”
“The mice left. Nothing to eat. I’m having a phone line put in. The closing is set for the end of the week. Go ahead, have a seat.”
Blue took one of the rickety chairs, and they talked while Billy started the coffee. He put slices of pie on the plates and took them to the table.
“Tell me about your folks,” he said.
Blue took a bite of pie. “Mmmm. That’s good.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Dad’s coming along. Mr. Lee suggested my folks stay at the big house while my dad recovers. They talk about campaigning Hawk on the national bird dog circuit. Then they go and take their naps. My mom’s getting some rest. I’m about caught up on work.”
Billy ate his pie, listening. “It’s good your dad is there. He’ll keep Mr. Lee from missing Caroline so much.”
“I imagine so.”
Rain slid down the windowpanes like chilled glycerin. Billy poured the coffee.
Two Saturdays had passed since the shooting at the rice field. Blue was up to date on Gracie Ella’s condition, so Billy told him the story of Martin’s arrest. What he couldn’t talk about was the bigger issue, the embezzlement scheme. The indictment could be weeks or even months coming. When that happened, Saunders would be arrested along with Rosalyn. Life would change at Airlee. Blue’s job would be at risk.
Blue took a swallow of coffee. His eyes shifted and he frowned. Billy knew that look from when they were kids. “You got something on your mind?”
“Did you buy this place to get out of the city or was there another reason?”
Billy took a bite of pie. It’d been a long time since he’d sat across the table from an old friend. Only Blue knew him well enough to ask that question.
“You remember when I quit law school and Uncle Kane got so mad?”
Blue nodded. “Sure do. He kicked you out.”
“He said I was like my father. I would never amount to anything. I gave it a few months and called him. He hung up on me. I sent birthday cards and Christmas cards. Never heard from him.”
“Shooo. Your uncle was a tough man.”
“Seeing Airlee and the diner again brought all of that back. I decided it was time to claim my home. I asked Highsmith if he wanted to sell the place.” He looked around at the cracked linoleum, the rusted refrigerator, and his uncle’s Ole Miss coffee mug still hanging on a hook over the stove. Billy’s Memphis PD mug now hung on a hook beside it.
Blue surprised him with a grin. “Now you’re talking. And you need a good woman. How’s that partner of yours?”
His mind went to Frankie as it had done several times in the last few days. He’d imagined her coming down for the weekend to fish, eat barbeque, and hear some blues at The Hollywood. He pictured her sitting on the sofa in front of the wood stove, the house so quiet they could hear each other’s heartbeat. The place had one big bed. He’d imagined her in it.
“Frankie’s good.” He felt his cheeks flush. “She’s fine.”
He offered Blue more pie. They finished up while the rain pelted the roof.
“I’d better get on the road before it starts freezing,” Blue said. He was getting his coat when they heard a car door slam. “You expecting company?”
“That’s Highsmith,” Billy said on his way to the front room.
Highsmith came in with his glasses fogged and splotches of rain darkening the shoulders of his coat. First thing, he handed a brown sack to Billy. “Here’s a thank-you for saving my bacon from the KODA gang.”
Billy unwrapped a bottle of Jack Daniel’s No. 27 Gold limited edition. “This is mighty fine Tennessee whiskey. Hard to come by. Thank you, Counselor.”
Blue came in from the kitchen buttoning his coat. Billy introduced them.
“Chicago’s a great town. Good ball club.” Blue looked at Billy. “If the weather clears, are you up for working the bird dogs sometime this week?”
“Sure, unless I’m called back for duty. I’ve been told the shooting board is about to wrap up the investigation.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Blue gave both of them a casual salute before running for his car in the rain.
Highsmith hung his coat on the hook by the door and looked around. “The house is taking shape.”
“Still a ways to go. I’ll shore up the porch and paint in the spring. You want some pecan pie?”
Highsmith settled in the chair while Billy cut the pie. While he was at it he poured himself two fingers of the good Jack. He knew Highsmith was interested in the house, but his real reason for driving down was to go over the DA’s case against the Lee Law Firm.
“During discovery Rosalyn’s attorney will request the files I downloaded,” Highsmith said. “They would love to get that stolen evidence in front of a judge and have the case thrown out. I withheld the files from the DA. I didn’t even talk about them.” He took a bite of pie and pointed to it with his fork. “What makes this so good?”
“Browned butter and plenty of bourbon,” Billy said. “Go ahead.”
“Once Martin has been indicted, certain Lee Law Firm clients will receive an anonymous letter that recommends they have their trusts audited. The letter will also suggest they present any irregularities to the DA.”
Billy realized this guy was a hell of a good strategist, the kind who lands on his feet no matter what’s in front of him. He would’ve been the right man for Caroline, a steady husband like Saunders had wanted.
Highsmith set his plate on the table. “I was thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t checked on the Merkle account that Friday. Caroline and I would be married now with a child on the way. Eventually, we would’ve started a firm in Holly Springs, probably bought an old house to fix up. We would’ve had jolly babies, big dogs, and extravagant Christmases. I’d be ignorant of the malfeasance taking place at the Lee Law Firm.” His eyes reddened. His gaze wandered the room. “I’m sorry. The loss is just now hitting me.”
Billy looked over. “I think you were right about Caroline wanting to leave the firm. You and the baby would’ve been a fresh start for her.”
He was glad to have something to offer this man who’d been through so much, but personally, he didn’t believe it. Caroline was raised a Lee. It’s almost impossible to walk away from your birthright, especially in the South. He wondered if that was what his uncle had believed about him.
Highsmith nodded and stood. “We’ll leave it at that.” He went to the door and lifted his coat off the hook. “Seems my fortunes have changed. As soon as I decided to leave Chicago, I sent out a batch of resumes and followed up with several interviews. I got an offer from the Department of Justice in DC, but Rosalyn’s offer was better, and I had wanted to give private practice a try.
“Last week I called the DOJ and said I was available. They got right back with an even better offer. I leave for Washington tomorrow. I’ll have my power of attorney sent to you right away, so you can close on the house. You’ll be good for each other.”
They shook hands and said goodbye. Billy stood on the porch and watched through the pine trees as the Saab’s taillights pulled out onto the state road. He thought of Caroline. Maybe she would’ve been happy with Highsmith and her baby. No way to know. He couldn’t save her, but he’d found the justice she deserved. Still, in this case he’d lost a part of himself.
The four o’clock Illinois Central rumbled across the back of the property. He remembered how much he liked this life, the translucent haze above the plowed fields at dawn. The distance the eye can take across a pasture that rises and dips and ends in a line of sycamore trees and river birches. He liked mules. He liked their strength and how no one early really owns them. They agree to work until they don’t agree then nothing can make them move. The last thing you want in this world is a mule that’s mad at you.
Kind of like a homicide cop.
He went inside to stoke the fire just as the rain turned to snow.