Authors: Rebecca Brandewyne
“
Hush,
Alex!” Sarah snapped sharply, her own nerves stretched to the
breaking point. “That’s not true—and you know it!
Something must have happened, that’s all. Maybe it’s just
taking him longer than he thought to fix my flat tire. Or maybe the
Jeep’s engine has overheated. It’s so hot outside. For
pity’s sake, your dad wouldn’t have gone off and left his
Jaguar in our drive if he weren’t planning on returning here.
He’d have driven away,” she insisted, as much to bolster
her own faith as Alex’s, for even now, fierce, gnawing doubt
assailed her. When the telephone suddenly rang, she practically
jerked the receiver from its box on the kitchen wall. “Hello.”
“
Sarah?
It’s Liz.”
“
Oh,
hi, Liz,” Sarah greeted her friend, swallowing her dread and
disappointment.
“
Listen,
Sarah, I called FYI, but you weren’t there.”
“
No,
it’s—it’s Saturday. I—I wasn’t planning
on going in until later this afternoon.”
“
That’s
what I figured, so I guess you probably haven’t heard what
happened last night.”
“
Last
night? No, I haven’t, Liz. Why? What’s up?”
“
A
young black man by the name of Lamar Rollins was murdered out by the
railroad tracks on the old town road. Dwayne Truett found the body
this morning. It had two bullet holes pumped into it, apparently from
a thirty-aught-six. Lamar was known to have grown marijuana in
several isolated fields in the country, so everybody reckons his
killing is drug related. Now, here’s the reason I called,
Sarah, why I’m telling you all this. Hoag Laidlaw is claiming
he saw Renzo Cassavettes out at the old quarry—the swimming
hole—earlier this summer and that Renzo was standing there with
Lamar Rollins, that they were having a secret meeting. The way Hoag’s
got it figured is that Renzo and Lamar were involved in some kind of
drug deal together, which went sour, and so Renzo murdered Lamar.”
“
That’s
impossible!” Sarah cried, stricken, her heart pounding
furiously, her mouth dry with sudden fear, her hand sweating on the
receiver. “Renzo’s father—his
real
father,
not Joseph Martinelli—used drugs. Marijuana and cocaine.
Because of that, Renzo
hates
drugs.
He would never
—
never
!—have
anything to do with them, Liz!”
“
Well,
that may be. I’m just telling you what Hoag’s saying.
He’s raked up all those old accusations about Renzo
deliberately shoving Sonny Holbrooke off that rock out at the quarry
that summer, too, and insisting that except for an occasional,
drunken, Saturday-night shootout at Rowdy’s Roadhouse, or a
hot-tempered stabbing down in the Italian or black parts of town,
there hasn’t been a killing here since Renzo left town more
than a decade ago. And now, since Renzo’s come back, Lamar
Rollins is suddenly brutally shot to death out on the old town road,
just some weeks after he was seen in Renzo’s company.”
“
Liz,
Liz, what’re you saying to me? If Renzo were going to kill a
man, he’d take a knife to him—or use his bare fists.
That’s the kind of man he is. He wouldn’t do it with a
thirty-aught-six! Oh, God, what am I saying? He wouldn’t do it
at all! Good God! Why would he? He’s got no reason at all to
murder anybody! He’s rich and famous, a Pulitzer Prize-winning
investigative reporter, for God’s sake! Besides which, he was
here with me last night...all night!” Sarah blurted out,
determinedly pushing away the memory of Renzo standing outside on the
deck, in the darkness, so she had wondered if he had left her while
she had slept. “Why would he even be mixed up with somebody
like this Lamar Rollins?”
“
I
don’t know. Maybe Lamar was some kind of a news source or
something, like that Whistle-blower person. What I do know is
this—Hoag’s either arrested Renzo or, at the very least,
has taken him in for questioning about last night. He’s got him
over to the jail, even as we speak. I’m not real sure what
all’s happening over there, except that when Hoag and Dwayne
got there with Renzo, they sent Wanda on home, so she wouldn’t
be privy to anything.” Wanda Greeley was the dispatcher. “But
J.D., Bubba and Forrest’s daddy, Judge Pierce, are all over
there. Hoag called ’em all after he’d brought Renzo in,
figuring the Holbrookes would have an interest in the case because of
what happened to Sonny out at the quarry, and that the judge’s
presence would lend everything credibility, I guess. Hoag may not be
the world’s smartest sheriff, but he’s bright enough to
know that these days, Renzo’s got money and connections both.
Forrest called Parker here at home to tell him about it, which is why
I know all this. I thought... Well, look, Sarah, I don’t mean
to pry or anything, but ever since that night at the Grain Elevator,
I couldn’t help but be curious, you know. And so I started
thinking, and a lot of little things over the years began to add up
for me, and then I thought about Alex— what he looks like, or,
rather, who—and that’s when everything suddenly fell into
place for me. It’s Renzo Cassavettes, isn’t it, who’s
Alex’s father? That’s why I called you, why I thought
you’d want to know what’s happened. Am I wrong, Sarah?”
“
No...
no... Oh, God, Liz, I’ve got to go! I’ve got to get into
town right away! If Hoag’s arrested Renzo, he’s got to
let him go! I can alibi Renzo, and I’ll swear in a court of law
to his whereabouts last night if I have to—”
“
Sarah,
if you need my help, if Renzo needs an attorney, call me back. I’m
not afraid of this town. I won’t be afraid to defend him, for
your sake and Alex’s.”
“
Thank
you, Liz. Thank you for that. You’re a true friend, the best
one I’ve ever had, except for Renzo.” Tears seeping down
her cheeks, Sarah hung up the phone.
“
Mom?
Mom, what’s wrong?” Alex’s face was white; his eyes
were huge with fright. “It isn’t true, is it? That Dad
killed somebody last night? You said he was here! All night! And he
must have been! I mean, I saw your and Dad’s clothes on the pew
first thing this morning when I came home, after Mickey and Mr.
Thurley dropped me off in their new pickup truck. That’s how
I—how I knew you and—and Dad... well, you know what I
mean, Mom... that you had spent the night together.”
Sarah’s
cheeks became stained with color. She had realized earlier this
morning that Alex must have recognized that she and Renzo had slept
together last night. But she was embarrassed to hear their son put it
into words. She had always tried to set such high standards, and she
supposed that sleeping with a man who wasn’t her husband—even
if she did love him and had borne his child— didn’t
particularly qualify as a good example for her son.
“
Alex...”
“
It’s
all right, Mom. I know Dad’s special to you. Has he—has
he really been arrested, Mom? Is that why he never came back? Is that
why we’re going into town?”
“
Yes.”
Sarah was already yanking on her leather sandals, gathering up her
handbag and sunglasses. “Oh, my God, I don’t have a car!”
She grasped the fact abruptly, dismayed. “Maybe Renzo left the
keys in the Jaguar.” Once she and Alex got outside, she saw
that Renzo had, in fact, forgotten his keys in the roadster’s
ignition last night. But it didn’t help. The Jaguar didn’t
have an automatic gearshift, and Sarah didn’t know how to drive
anything else. “We’ll have to walk down the road to the
Jeep, Alex, and hope your father had time to fix the flat tire before
Sheriff Laidlaw and Deputy Truett showed up.”
“
If
Dad didn’t, I can help you fix it, Mom. I’m big and
strong enough to do that.”
“
I
know you are, Son.” Sarah smiled at him tremulously, taking his
hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. They walked down the road
that way, hand-in-hand in the hot sun and silence, until they reached
the Jeep. To her relief, Sarah saw that Renzo had indeed managed to
put the spare on and the flat tire in the back before being hauled
away. Her keys were in the ignition. He must have been about to start
home when Sheriff Laidlaw and Deputy Truett had cruised by, spotted
him and taken him into custody. At gunpoint, no doubt.
She
and Alex got into the vehicle. Moments later, they were headed toward
town.
“
Hoag,
I’m warning you. You’d better either charge me or take
these damned cuffs off me right now and turn me
loose.”
Renzo’s voice was low and steely with menace. His eyes were
narrowed and hard, belying the seemingly casual way he slouched in
his chair.
“
Don’t
get smart with me, boy. I know the law—and it says I can hold
you for up to twenty-four hours without charging you. Ain’t
that right, Judge?” Hoag inquired as he chewed vigorously on
the wooden toothpick in his mouth.
“
Yes,”
Judge Pierce confirmed dryly as, with a big white handkerchief he
pulled from his pocket, he carefully cleaned his wire-rimmed
bifocals. “But, Hoag, you know damned good and well Renzo’s
got a right to an attorney if he wants one, and to make a telephone
call.”
“
That’s
right,” Renzo insisted grimly. “I’m an
investigative reporter. I know the law, too, Hoag—and you’d
better listen to the judge. Besides which, every single one of you
present—including you, Judge Pierce—” he glanced
one by one at all the men assembled in the sheriff’s office, at
the judge, Deputy Truett and the Holbrookes, before returning his
piercing gaze to the sheriff “—are witnesses to the fact
that I wasn’t Mirandized, either, before old Hoag and Dwayne
there hauled me in. In fact, Hoag
still
hasn’t
read me my rights!”
“
Well,
so what? I ain’t officially charged you with nothing—yet.
Just brung you in for questioning, is all. And I don’t have to
Mirandize you for that. So if you don’t want to wind up sitting
back there in one of my jail cells—” Hoag jerked his
thumb toward the rear of the small building that had been the town’s
sheriff’s office for nearly a century “—you’d
better wise up and start talking, and I mean real fast, boy. ’Cause
I don’t mind telling
you
that it don’t look good for you, refusing to tell us where you
was last night.”
“
Like
I told you before—it’s none of your damned business!”
Renzo grated, obstinately continuing to withhold the information that
would have provided him with an alibi for last night. After all Sarah
had been through in this town because of him, he wasn’t about
to see the good name and reputation she had worked so hard over the
years to reestablish dragged through the mud again.
“
You
fucking wop!” Bubba snarled, abruptly leaning forward in his
own chair and staring furiously at Renzo. “I don’t care
what in the hell my daddy claimed and Judge Pierce ruled at that
goddamned inquest all those years ago! You murdered my little
brother, Sonny, just as sure as I’m sitting here. And now, you
think you can come back here to this town and get away with killing
that poor, dumb nigger! Well, you aren’t going to get off
scot-free this time. We’re going to nail your frigging dago ass
to the barn door, Cassavettes!”
Coolly,
Renzo ignored Bubba. “Hoag, I want to make my telephone call.”
“
Hoag,
you’d better take those cuffs off that boy and let him make his
call,” Judge Pierce warned soberly. “Because you sure
don’t want to do anything that might prejudice this case if you
wind up arresting him and it goes to trial.”
“
All
right, all right. If you say so, Judge.” The sheriff grumbled
under his breath as he fumbled in his trouser pocket for the key to
the steel cuffs that bound Renzo’s hands behind his back. “Just
a precaution,” Hoag had called it earlier, causing Renzo to
laugh shortly, harshly, an
insolent,
mocking sound that had let the sheriff know just exactly what Renzo
had thought of him.