David Baldacci - Divine Justice

"If you see him, don't say anything," Annabelle warned. "He's armed and prepared to use it. Don't get him pissed. Believe me, I've been on the receiving end of that."

"Are you telling me the asshole struck you?" the jean man asked as he swallowed his mouthful and partially lifted his wide butt from his narrow seat.

Annabelle said, "Just be real careful around him, you hear me?" Every time she spoke her voice picked up more of a drawl, as though she was absorbing their twang whenever they opened their mouths. She edged him back on his stool with her hand.

"So what's your plan?" said the waitress, obviously taking an avid interest in this little drama.

"I'm going to find his ass." Annabelle handed her a slip of paper. "You see him, call me on this number please."

The waitress nodded. "My old man did that crap to me too. Took me eight years but I got my money."

"Hope I'm as lucky. Any place to stay around here?"

"Don't go to Skip's Motel down the street," said the waitress, a smile playing across her lips.

"Why not?"

"'Cause that's where he's staying, honey. Or at least he asked for a place to crash and I told him about that one. Try Lucy's at the other end of town. She's got a couple nice rooms for let."

"Thank you. Skip's, huh?"

"You got it, sweetie."

The waitress grabbed Annabelle's plate off the pass-through counter and put it down in front of her. "So what's your plan to nail the scumball, honey?"

"I brought someone with me," Annabelle said. "He works for the government too and he specializes in bagging other feds who pull crap like this."

"Shit," said jean jacket man. "They got a department for that too? No wonder our taxes are so damn high."

"Hush up, Herky," said the waitress. "Can't you tell this young lady's distressed?"

"Sorry, ma'am," said Herky, his gaze downcast as he stuffed a whole sausage patty in his mouth.

"So you gonna nail the little weasel good?" said the waitress eagerly.

"Something like that. Just give me a call if you see him and meantime I'll check out Skip's too. Thanks for the tip."

Annabelle finished eating and ordered some takeout for Caleb.

She walked out of the diner, looking cautiously around for Knox. She made it back to the van and told Caleb what had happened.

"Apparently he's staying at this Skip's Motel. We can ease down there and see if we pick up his trail. If not, I've got friends in high places here now."

Caleb looked at the platter of food. "It's all fried," he said in dismay.

"I'm sorry, Caleb, that's all they had."

"Not even any yogurt? Or fruit? Do you have any idea what my LDL cholesterol count is? And my triglycerides are off the charts. I could literally drop dead at any moment, Annabelle."

"It's a diner, Caleb. There're enormous men in there eating entire sides of beef without a fruit cup in sight, okay? Besides, what happened to the new, old Caleb? The dangerous come-at-me-with-both-guns-blazing Caleb?"

Caleb stared darkly at her. "Oh, what the hell. We're probably going to end up dead anyway." He made a face and then crunched down on a thick slice of sugar-cured bacon.

THERE WAS NO ONE in the front office of the courthouse when Stone walked in. He waited a moment and then eyed the stacks of boxes against one wall. He slipped over to them, pulled one off the top, and looked inside it. It was filled with legal documents. This must be one of the shipments of mining recertification documents Judge Mosley had told him about. He picked up what looked to be a shipping manifest. Eighty large boxes. Stone looked at the cardboard towers and wondered how Mosley had any sanity left after going through that mind-numbing mountain of legalese.

He heard someone coming, dropped the manifest on top of one of the boxes and hurried back to the front of the large desk in the middle of the room. A moment later Shirley Coombs walked through an interior door, her gaze on a mess of papers in her hand. She looked up and gave a little cry when she saw Stone standing there.

"You work here?" he said.

She nodded, one hand on her chest. "You startled me."

Stone glanced around the space. "Are you the court secretary?"

"The court clerk. Have been for years. Why? Don't I look like a court clerk?" she said icily. "Or do I just look like a secretary?"

"I went to see Willie. He's doing okay."

Shirley busied herself with some papers on her desk. "I'm going over to see him soon."

Sure you are. "There's a Caddy parked out front with a vanity plate."

"Yep."

"That's Judge Mosley's car."

"What does HCDJ stand for?"

"Here comes da judge." She said this as though Stone were an idiot for not having figured it out on his own.

"By the way, did you get everything you needed at Willie's trailer?"

"Excuse me?"

Stone said, "I think you left a bottle of Tylenol at Willie's trailer. I had it with me, but then I lost it." He stared at her pointedly and then rubbed the back of his head. Why be subtle at this point?

Shirley looked like Stone was pointing a gun at her. "I didn't leave anything behind."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. And I use Advil. Have ever since they had that pill scare with Tylenol."

"Willie thought there were pills left in the bottle, but when I found it, it was empty. And now it's gone. Maybe someone wanted it."

"Wanted an empty bottle? What for?"

"Well, there might have been some residue in there."

"Residue of what?"

Stone could tell she was lying. It was in every twitch of her face and shake of her voice. It had been her. She'd tried to kill her own son.

Now, who threw me into the snake pit, because it wasn't Miss Court Clerk with her stilettos and Pall Malls.

"You can't believe anything Willie says. Boy's always high."

"He was high on a stimulant, not a depressant. But the hospital said he had oxycodone in his system. That's a depressant."

"Willie doesn't know half the crap he's on. Probably forgot he took it."

"Or somebody wanted it to look that way."

She looked at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that somebody might have wanted to make it look like he'd OD'd accidentally."

She scoffed, "Why would anybody waste time trying to kill Willie? I mean, what'd be the point. It's not like he's got any money."

"That's not the only reason to kill somebody."

"What then?" She said this almost fearfully.

"Willie told me he'd asked Debby Randolph to marry him. Did you know about that?"

Shirley flushed at this information. She fumbled in her purse and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. "No, I guess Willie didn't see fit to tell me that, his own mother."

"I take it you knew Debby?"

"Everybody in Divine knows everybody else," she said resignedly as she lit up.

"Would anybody in town have a problem with that happening?"

She blew smoke out and stared up at him. "What the hell does it matter to you? You're not from here. You don't know us. And just because you helped Willie doesn't mean I have to answer your damn questions."

"I thought you might want to help me, in case someone is trying to kill your son."

"Mister, no one is trying to kill Willie."

"But seeing as how he almost died and he says the drug that almost did him in he didn't take. Well, it does make you wonder."

She glanced at the wall of large boxes stacked a half dozen high and ten across. "I got a lot of work to do."

"Right. You want some help? I hire out cheap."

"I think you need to leave. Right now."

Stone turned and walked out.

As soon as he'd left another door opened and Judge Dwight Mosley walked slowly into the room. His tie was undone and his shirtsleeves were rolled up.