Robert Whitlow - Deeper Water

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The Tides of Truth novels follow one lawyer's passionate pursuit of truth in matters of life and the law.
In the murky waters of Savannah's shoreline, a young law student is under fire as she tries her first case at a prominent and established law firm. A complex mix of betrayal and deception quickly weaves its way through the case and her life, as she uncovers dark and confusing secrets about the man she's defending-and the senior partners of the firm.
How deep will the conspiracy run? Will she have to abandon her true self to fulfill a higher calling? And how far will she have to go to discover the truth behind a tragic cold case?

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"I understand," Mr. Carpenter replied.

I spoke. "Is there anything else you remember about what happened to Lisa?"

"No, missy. That be it."

"Mr. Carpenter, do you have any questions?"

The lawyer bowed his head for a moment. "Do you know the place where you laid her in the water?"

"Yes sir."

"I know she's not there, but could you show it to me sometime?"

"Yes, boss man."

"And did you ever hear any rumors or stories of why she was left on the riverbank or how she got there that evening?"

Moses pressed his lips together. I held my breath.

"I be thinking something myself That little girl been hit in the head a lot worse than if she'd been in a bare-knuckle fight. Something hard done that. And there be small pieces of glass caught up in her dress. I saved a few of them in a tin can for a long time, but they be lost now."

"A hit-and-run driver," Mr. Carpenter said, turning to me. "Who didn't leave her lying in the road or call an ambulance, but thought she was dead and dumped her off in a secluded place. The police found blood on a curb along the route Lisa would have taken home from a music lesson on the day she disappeared. The first test was inconclusive, but the second came back as a blood-type match. Of course, there wasn't DNA testing back then, and the blood type was one of the more common ones."

"Why wouldn't someone who hit her call for help?" I asked.

"The driver could have been drinking, on drugs, driving a stolen vehicle, or simply panicked. We'll probably never know. People don't always think things through in the heat of the moment."

I could certainly identify with that type of mistake.

Mr. Carpenter continued. "Every car taken in for repair to the front grille or bumper during the next few months after Lisa disappeared was inspected by police, but nothing turned up. If it was a hit-and-run driver, he laid low long enough to avoid being identified. My father hired a private detective firm that continued seeking clues after the police shut down the active file. Nothing turned up."

Mr. Carpenter stood and extended his hand to Moses. They shook hands. I watched in disbelief.

"Mr. Jones, thank you for trying to help Lisa," Mr. Carpenter said. "Knowing someone tried to save her means so much to me." He choked up again. "And hearing your story gives me hope that she may not have suffered as much as, or in ways, we'd always feared."

"No sir, she never woke up until she passed."

Mr. Carpenter nodded. "How can I get in touch with you about going to her burial place on the river?"

"Through Bill Fussleman," Zach offered. "He's the homeowner who is going to let Mr. Jones tie up his boat for the night at his dock. Fussleman's address and phone number are in the file."

"That be fine, boss man," Moses said. "I be looking out for you."

"Can I take you someplace?" Mr. Carpenter asked Moses. "I'll drop you off anywhere you like."

"No sir. I be walking. It gonna feel good breathing free air and stretching out my own two legs."

"And you?" Mr. Carpenter asked me. "Are you going back to the office? You still have a job."

"Yes, and thanks, but I think I'll walk. Free air sounds good to me too."

29

THE THREE MEN LEFT THE COURTROOM I STAYED BEHIND with Moses and watched the - фото 30

THE THREE MEN LEFT THE COURTROOM. I STAYED BEHIND with Moses and watched the door close behind them. The courtroom became totally quiet. State v. Jones was over. I collapsed on the bench, put my head in my hands, and began to weep.

"What be bothering you, missy?"

The crushing pressure of the past weeks demanded an emotional release. My weeping turned to sobs. I felt the old man lightly place his hand on my back. Several minutes passed before I regained my composure. Thankfully, no one disturbed us. I lifted my head and sniffled loudly. Moses was sitting beside me. I cleared my throat.

"I've been sharing your burden for a few weeks. You've been carrying it for forty years. I don't know how you've done it."

Moses nodded. "That be right, missy. I be toting a very heavy load. Just like the big rock that dragged that poor little girl's body to the muddy bottom."

I took a tissue from my purse and blew my nose. I looked at the old man's weathered face. Pure love for him rose up in my heart. I touched him lightly on the arm.

"And it's time you stopped carrying that load, along with the other loads dragging you down all your life."

"What you mean?"

I turned sideways so I could look directly into his face. "Jesus gave his life so you wouldn't have to carry the burdens of the past, no matter where they came from. His burden is easy and light. Give what's left of your life to him."

The old man blinked his eyes. "You sound like my of auntie. I know that be true for young folk, but not for an old broke-down fellow like me. Too much done gone by for me to catch up." Moses looked across the room. "The faces in the water, they be talking to me. They tell me the end of my days."

"No," I answered with feeling. "Listen to Jesus. God wants you to look up, not down."

Moses slowly tilted back his head. After a few moments, there was a puzzled expression on his face. "That be a sweet sound," he said.

I didn't hear anything, but my heart understood. "That's what happens in a court of praise."

And in a gentle, natural way, the Lord used me to guide Moses Jones to a place of freedom and peace. Our tears, young and old, flowed together as he received the love of Jesus with childlike wonder. The spillover blessed me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Mama would have shouted in victory. Our celebration, though quieter, was no less triumphant.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked after the last prayer ended.

"I never be more ready." Moses paused. "And you know what, missy?"

"What?"

"I think you be a lot more than a real lawyer."

WE LEFT THE COURTROOM and went in opposite directions. It was hot outside, but the heat had lost its power to oppress me. I walked at a leisurely pace. Wisdom adapts to things that cannot be changed, so I took my time returning to the office. The thanksgiving that had bubbled up in my heart while the Lord touched Moses returned. God was good. My mistakes and foolishness hadn't stymied his purposes.

I arrived back at the office ready to confess my sins to Zach. But he wasn't in his office, and the attractive secretary who worked for him informed me that he and Mr. Appleby had left for an emergency weekend meeting in Mobile with representatives of a Chinese shipping company. The Chinese company was going to increase its business on the East Coast and the Gulf of Mexico and wanted a single law firm to coordinate their activities in the United States.

I was a bit ashamed as I admitted to myself that I was relieved he was not in. I dreaded rehashing my embarrassing miscalculation of Mr. Carpenter's interest in Moses Jones and Lisa Prescott.

"Zach will be making trips to Shanghai if this deal goes through," the young woman said. "I told him I'd like to stow away, carry his suitcase, do anything to see that part of the world."

"What did he say to that?"

"Oh, you know how he is," she gushed. "He pulled on that cute ponytail and smiled."

"DID YOU GET THE CASE TAKEN CARE OF?" Julie asked lightly when I entered the library a few minutes later. "Joel is going to the cocktail reception at Mr. Carpenter's house tonight. I want you to meet him, but promise you won't say anything goofy. I told him you were super-religious-kind of like my cousins in New York-so he won't be totally shocked."

"Has he told you to shut up yet?" I asked.

"No, don't be silly. He's a great conversationalist, especially for a guy. He said more in thirty minutes than Vinny has all summer. Not that I'm trying to dump on Vinny, but you know what I mean. What happened in your case?"

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