Дэвид Балдаччи - The Guilty

Wurtzburger nodded and then handed Robie a card. “Well, if you see or hear anything, will you give me a call?”

Robie took the card. “You haven’t really told me why the FBI’s interested in this case.”

“You’re right, I haven’t. Have a good day.”

Wurtzburger and his men returned to their car and drove off in a swirl of fine Mississippi dust.

Robie got back in his car and headed on.

He pulled to a stop later in front of the Willows. Victoria’s Volvo was parked in front. He went inside.

Priscilla met him at the door.

“Where’s Victoria?”

“Upstairs with Ty. How’d it go at the courthouse? She didn’t say.”

“Not much happened. He pled not guilty, and the judge wants him to get a lawyer.” Robie didn’t mention the threats against his father.

He headed up the steps and got to the top landing in time to see Victoria come out of Tyler’s room.

“I see you made up your mind about the hearing today,” he noted.

She stood there, seemingly frozen in the doorway. “I almost didn’t go. That’s why I was late. I sat out in my car.” She came forward. “What happened?”

“He acted as his own lawyer, pled not guilty, and asked for reasonable bail to be set.”

“And was it?”

“It might have been except that Aubrey Davis said there have been credible threats against him and he would be safer in jail. The judge has taken it all under advisement. So for now he stays in jail.”

Victoria placed a hand against her throat. “What credible threats?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Dan never mentioned that anyone was threatening him.”

“Well, he made some enemies with the oil platform lawsuit he won.”

“That was years ago.”

“Some people have long memories.”

And don’t I know that , thought Robie.

Victoria said stubbornly, “I can’t believe that. They would have had ample opportunities to hurt him. Or us. And they haven’t. And what would the threats be for? We’ll kill you if you what? Do something? Don’t do something?”

Robie had to concede that these were all good points. He also knew that if he wanted to answer any of these things he would have to do what he had come here to do in the first place.

See his father.

He hustled back down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Victoria called after him.

Robie didn’t answer her.

“It’s time, deputy Taggert,” said Robie.

He was standing in front of her desk at the jail.

“Robie, I don’t know what to tell you. Your daddy—”

“He’s in trouble, people have made threats against him, and he’s not going to be leaving here until his trial is over. And I think I can help him. But I can’t do that until I talk to him.”

“But he said—”

“I know what he said. But if it were your father what would you do? Give up and go home with your tail tucked between your legs?”

Robie figured this jab would get to the chip-on-her-shoulder deputy.

She drummed her fingers on her desk, then stood, took a set of keys off her gun belt, and said, “If this goes bad, I’m goin’ to say you overpowered me and you’re goin’ to go along with that, damn the consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.”

She unlocked a steel door and led him down a narrow passage. At the end was another door that she unlocked using a different key. They entered a cell block area. The doors were solid so one couldn’t see inside. She led him to the last one on the left. She rapped on the door.

“Judge Robie, you got you a visitor.”

She looked at Robie, hiked her eyebrows, pointed a finger at him, and said in a low voice, “Ten minutes. That’s it.”

She opened the door and Robie walked through. A second later the door was shut and locked. He heard her booted feet going back down the hall.

The next instant Robie was slammed up against the wall. His cheek hit the brick and he felt it start to swell.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” barked Dan Robie right in his son’s ear.

Robie broke his father’s grip, with some difficulty, circled him, bent Dan’s arm back and then behind the older man, and wrenched it upward, but not enough to do any permanent damage.

“You going to calm down?” asked Robie quietly. “Or do I have to break it?”

“I told them I didn’t want to see you.”

“But here I am. Can we talk this out?”

“You’re assaultin’ me.”

“I’m acting in self-defense. You jumped me first. Now we can just stand here looking stupid or we can do something productive.”

“Well, you can start by lettin’ go of my damn arm!”

Robie released his father and stepped back.

Dan Robie rubbed his limb and turned to look over at his son.

“Why are you here?” he barked.

“I got word that you were in trouble.”

“I’ve been in a lot of trouble over the last twenty-two years. I didn’t see you show up then.”

Dan Robie sat down on his bunk, which gave Robie a chance to observe his father more closely. The man was sixty-four now. He was still taller than his son, still lean with broad shoulders and ropy muscles. His hair was all white and starting to thin a bit, and his face was weathered in the way that only living near the ocean can inspire.

“No, you didn’t,” replied Robie.

“So why now?”

“Maybe it has more to do with me at my stage of life than you.”

“Okay, you’ve seen me. We’ve talked. Now leave.”

His father turned away from him.

“Did you kill Sherman Clancy?”

His father said nothing.

“If you didn’t, and I don’t think you did, then the person who did kill him is out there. Maybe it’s the same person who killed Janet Chisum.”

His father didn’t break his silence.

“I thought a Marine and a judge would not want to see a killer or killers walk free.”

“I don’t. But that’s not my job, is it? And I’m hardly in a position to find out who it might be.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

His father turned to him. “You?” he scoffed. “What makes you think you can do anythin’ about it? Where have you been? What have you been doin’ with your life?”

“Things. I’ve been doing things with my life.”

“You think you can just waltz back in here and—”

“I left you a phone number where you could reach me,” broke in Robie. “As soon as I got to where I was going. Twenty-two years ago.” He paused. “You never called.”

“Why the hell should I? You left home. Snuck off in the middle of the night like the damn coward you were. Could never face nothin’ head-on, boy. Nothin’.”

“If I remember right you left home when you were seventeen, lied about your age, and joined the Marines. Did you ever go back home? Because I don’t recall you ever mentioning that you did.”

“That’s none of your damn business.”

Robie ignored this and said, “I wondered why I never met my grandfather. Why you never even mentioned him. Did he beat the shit out of you? Did he insult you every day of your life? Because if he did, we have a lot of things in common.”

Dan Robie looked across the narrow width of the cell at his son.

“So you’re here to what? Vent? Stand up to me? Kick my ass to show you’re a man in your own eyes?”

“I know I’m a man. I don’t have to vent or kick your ass to prove anything.”

“Then why are you here?” snapped Dan.

“Because you’re in trouble. And I help people who are in trouble. Even if they don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, so you’re some kind of Good Samaritan?” his father said sarcastically.