Leann Sweeney - Dead Giveaway

"I don't know, Abby. This will require some intense effort starting the minute you walk out the door. I got some favors out there, a couple D.A.'s who might listen. Maybe I can work a miracle, get him out in less than three months."

"Do whatever you have to. Spare no expense. This is on my personal tab, not my client's," I said.

"We'll talk money another day," he said.

A few minutes later, I was back in the Camry. Funny how I'd never paid much attention to how long it had taken innocent men to get out of Huntsville after the Houston crime lab debacle in 2004. But it was all very real now. On my way home, I was feeling down and trying to hide it when I called Will's house and his mother answered.

"This is Abby," I said.

"Abby. How are you?"

"Pretty good," I said.

"Any news?"

"Big news. I've found Will's mother and his father. I don't know how to get in touch with Will, though."

"He'll be home the day after tomorrow—but this is wonderful. You found them in less than two weeks. What about the poor lady who died? Was her murder connected to your search for Will's birth parents?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Is that why you don't sound very happy?" she asked.

"Things are just... complicated. Let me begin at the beginning."

Again I had to tell a long story, which only reinforced what Mark had made clear. The happy ending might not be so happy after all. A year or more could pass before Lawrence walked out of Huntsville Prison to see his son, his father and the woman who, even though he thought she was dead, he had protected for nineteen years.

Jeff came home close to eight that evening, tired but in a great mood. Wish mine could have matched. He'd brought French dip sandwiches and herb pasta salad from La Madeleine, and we ate at the counter. Despite the great food, I was still glum when I told him about my visit with Mark.

"I needed Mark's reality check about as much as Aunt Caroline needs a face-lift," I said.

"Yeah, I've talked to Mark today," Jeff said. "He wanted to know exactly how much evidence HPD has to exonerate Lawrence. He's on this. He'll get it done."

"In about a year. But no use whining," I said. "Guess we both did our jobs. I only wish they'd hand me a key to his cell and I could let him out myself."

"You should be proud. I know I'm proud of you," Jeff said.

"I couldn't have done it without your help. Daddy always said success is the result of backbone, not wishbone, and you're the one with the backbone."

"You're the strongest woman I've ever met, Abby. Now put away the wishbone for Lawrence. You've done all you can." He took out a fresh pack of Big Red and stared at it for a second. "We got any beer? I could use one while I tell you what Olive had to say."

"Sure. I'm well stocked with staples. Beer, wine, Diet Coke and frozen pizza."

He smiled and returned the gum to his pocket.

I grabbed a couple Shiner Bocks from the fridge, saying, "I nearly forgot about Olive. I'm anxious to hear that lady's excuse for keeping Sara a virtual prisoner."

We went to the living room—or as I like to call it, the loving room—and sat on either end of the couch. Jeff took off his shoes and we faced each other, assuming our favorite position, legs outstretched and intertwined.

"Olive is actually a nice lady," he said. "Clueless, but nice. I'm guessing her IQ hovers around 80 to 85. She and Verna Mae went back a long time, and she knew her friend wanted a baby."

"I figured that's how Will ended up where he did."

"What you don't know is that Verna Mae visited Sara Rankin every week. Those scrapbooks, pictures and news stories about his athletic accomplishments? She took them with her, told Sara that Will was her own child." Jeff took a pull on his longneck.

"You're kidding me. Sara was told stories about her own baby thinking he belonged to Verna Mae? That's crazy, Jeff."

"Are you really surprised?"

"I guess not. But it seems so cruel."

"It might explain why, after meeting Will in the flesh and knowing Sara as well as she did, she decided to set things straight. She had no idea those wonderful people who had been filling her bank account for years would turn on her after she told them she'd been collecting information about Will and sharing it with their invalid daughter."

"No wonder B.J. was on a search-and-destroy mission when Verna Mae wouldn't tell him where she'd saved all the Will mementos," I said.

"He tried to beat information out of her. Guess she was just as tough as she was crazy. Too bad."

"Has Olive cared for Sara all these years?" I asked.

"Yes. She told us the Rankins had her take some

quickie nurse's aide course after they brought a very sick, very pregnant Sara home from the wilderness camp. Olive took care of her, even delivered Will."

"No way," I said. "Guess the Rankins thought everything would be okay, that Sara would return from her fake mission trip after she'd recovered from delivery and they could brainwash her into thinking Lawrence was a killer. Everything would be back to normal. She must not have told her parents she was Lawrence's alibi."

"Probably not. According to Olive, Sara had the stroke right after delivery, went into a coma and couldn't even speak when she finally woke up—all this without a doctor ever setting foot in that cabin."

"She knows Lawrence is in prison, though. How'd she find out?" I asked.

"She can talk?"

"A little. She's not brain-dead, Jeff."

He nodded and drank more beer. "Olive told us that Verna Mae told Sara about Lawrence's arrest and conviction. It wasn't like Sara could run to a judge and offer the alibi Lawrence needed—not in her condition."

"Rankin and B.J. better get everything they deserve and more," I said, anger firing my face. "B.J. will live to meet a tough judge, right?"

"Oh, yeah. He lost a lot of blood, but he's fine. I expect he'll join your ex on death row within the year. Maybe Rankin will, too, though his attorney will probably claim he was protecting you when he shot his wife. I think they'll leave out the 'ridding the earth of Satan' defense. No insanity option there, thank you. He knew right from wrong."

I finished my beer, thinking about the reunion I was planning, probably in Sara's room at the hospital. Will wanted to meet the woman who'd given him life, meet Thaddeus, but it would be a little hollow without Lawrence there.

Jeff set his empty bottle on the floor and took off his already loosened tie. "You ready to call it a night?"

I checked my watch. "It's early." "Yeah. I know." He grinned.

Two days later, I picked up Will so we could head to the hospital for the much-anticipated reunion with the family he'd hired me to find. He wore a T-shirt imprinted with the words UT BASKETBALL and had on a pair of pressed jeans. I swear he'd grown another inch since the last time I saw him. He and I had talked yesterday, but his mother had pretty much filled him in on all that had happened.

When he ducked into the passenger seat, he immediately moved the seat back all the way to fit his legs under the dash. It was still a tight squeeze.

"Where are your parents?" I asked. "I thought they were coming, too."

"Mom and Dad want to wait. They say I need to meet Sara and Mr. Washington by myself first. They do want to have them over to the house, if Sara—is 'Sara' what I should call her?"

"I think Sara is perfect."

"Anyway, when Sara and Mr. Washington are both well enough, Mom wants to have a party."

I smiled. "You have great parents, Will, but having known you even for such a short time, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I don't know what will go down today, Abby. I just know I'm lucky. One day, I'll have enough money to make sure Sara gets all the help she needs. My grandfather, too."