Дэвид Балдаччи - The Guilty

The clerk was a heavyset woman in her sixties with thinning hair dyed a muted burgundy. Robie didn’t know if this was intentional or an experiment gone wrong, but the woman was cheerful and helpful.

She told him that the Willows had been sold by the Barksdales a little over twenty years ago. The buyer had been a businessman and his wife from Baton Rouge. They had lived in the property for years, and they had sold it to the Robies because they were getting on in years and were downsizing. She believed they had moved over to Alabama.

“I remember the sale because it was the largest in the county up to that time.”

“I knew Laura Barksdale,” said Robie.

“I know you did. My son went to Cantrell with you. He wasn’t on the football team, but the year you boys won the championship I think the whole school thought they were part of the team.”

“It was special,” said Robie.

“And weren’t you and Laura Homecomin’ King and Queen that year?”

“Yes, we were.” Robie hadn’t thought about this in a long time, but the image of a young man in a dirty and sweat-stained football uniform and Laura in her tight dress and tiara instantly came into his mind. The ceremony had been conducted during halftime of a game.

Laura had made him promise not to get her dirty while they walked across the field. Although she did let him kiss her when they snuck under the bleachers right before the half was over.

He felt himself smiling. When he came out of this memory he saw the clerk staring at him, a grin on her face.

“Nice memory?” she asked.

“Pretty nice,” said Robie. “So the Barksdales sold out and what? Did they move away?”

“They must have. If they had bought here I would’ve known about it. I’ve been here over thirty years.”

“But you don’t know where they went?”

She shook her head. “It always seemed peculiar to me that they sold that place. I always thought it would be kept in the family. You know, handed down to the kids and all. I mean it had been in the Barksdale family for the better part of two centuries.”

“And you’ve never seen any of them since?”

“Well, I’ve seen Emmitt Barksdale.”

Robie gaped. “Really? When?”

“Just a few days ago.”

Robie started. “A few days ago? Here?”

“Yes. I was goin’ up the steps of the courthouse and he was comin’ down ’em.”

“You’re sure it was him?”

“Well, I don’t know if you remember Emmitt. But he was tall and good-lookin’ and had the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. I know it’d been twenty years, and his hair was a lot thinner, but I could swear it was him.”

“But you didn’t talk to him?”

“I started to say hello, but then I was interrupted by somebody I worked with here. She had a question about somethin’. When I was done with her, Emmitt was gone.”

“But he was coming out of the courthouse?”

“That’s right.”

“Any idea what he did in there?”

“Well, I could ask. I’m not the only clerk here.”

“Would you?”

The lady rose and came back a few minutes later.

“Seems he was doin’ what you were doin’. Lookin’ at land records.”

“Any in particular?”

“He had the exact same deed books you did.”

“For the Willows?”

“That’s right.”

“Thanks.”

“Any time. Go Panthers!” she said, referring to the mascot of Cantrell High.

Robie walked out of the courthouse and saw Reel leaning against her car, waiting for him.

“Saw your car. Figured you were in the courthouse checking records.”

“Any luck with Pete?”

“If he killed Sara Chisum he had to hire someone to do it. He was drunk and having sex in New Orleans at the time.”

“Lotta sex going on here,” he commented.

“Wishful thinking?” replied Reel.

He glared at her.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Just trying to lighten the mood. But what about you?” she asked. “Anything at the courthouse?”

“The clerk doesn’t know what happened to the Barksdales. They sold the property to the folks that sold it to my dad and Victoria. This was a couple years after I left Cantrell.”

“Okay.”

“But she told me that she had seen Emmitt Barksdale, Laura’s brother, coming out of the courthouse a few days ago. He was checking out the land records for his old home.”

Reel looked blankly at him. “Why would he be doing that? Thinking of buying it back?”

“No idea. But why would he want the place?”

“Nostalgia?”

“After all this time? Why not buy it when the other owners wanted to sell?”

“Maybe he didn’t know about it back then. Or maybe he didn’t have the money.”

“The guy I saw sneaking around outside the Willows my first night there? I thought it might’ve been Pete. But now I think it could’ve been Emmitt. The person I saw was taller than Pete. And probably older, now that I think about it. And Emmitt is a couple years older than me.”

“Why would he be sneaking around the place?”

“I don’t know.”

“Robie, there aren’t bodies buried at the Willows, are there? I mean, the Barksdales sell the place and nobody ever sees them again?”

“You kill people and bury them and hope the new owners don’t notice the freshly turned earth? How likely is that?”

“I don’t know how likely it is. I’ve never been to Mississippi.”

“That can’t be it,” he said.

“So what’s your explanation?” she asked irritably.

“I don’t have one.”

“Then don’t just discount mine out of hand. But if something about the Barksdales is connected to what’s going on now, how does that work exactly?”

“We come back to what we talked about before. What if Clancy was blackmailing one of the Barksdales?”

“That would be a motive for his murder.”

Robie sighed. “But all these years later?”

“Maybe the blackmailing didn’t start until recently?”

“That presumes Clancy knew where the Barksdales moved to.”

“Maybe he did.”

“This is getting way too complicated, Jessica.”

“Maybe that’s because we’re making it too complicated. But if Emmitt Barksdale is hanging around here, then he might know all about it.”

“Right, but we don’t know where he is.”

“You said he was sneaking around the Willows. But the woman at the courthouse said she saw him coming out. So it’s not like he’s in complete hiding. He might surface again.”

Robie said nothing for a few moments, and then his brow cleared as an idea obviously hit him. He pulled out the photo of Wendell and the children.

“Wendell was in his midsixties when he died.”

“Okay.”

“And Henry Barksdale was roughly the same age. Same generation as my dad.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying...?”

Robie held up the photo. “What if Henry Barksdale was the one taking the picture?”

Reel stared over at him, her brows elevated. “That’s a leap of logic, isn’t it?”

“Not so much.”

“So do you mean Sherman Clancy cut a deal with Barksdale? Give me enough stuff I can blackmail Nelson Wendell with, and I’ll let you alone?”

“Well, Wendell probably had a lot more money.”

“But Barksdale would be a fool to trust Clancy.”

“Maybe he didn’t have much choice. And Pete said his dad let Wendell use his shack. He thought at first for women. Maybe they never intended for Clancy to know what they were really doing. But he found out.”

“Now that makes more sense.”

“And I always wondered about the connection between Nelson Wendell and Clancy. They didn’t move in the same circles. Hell, Wendell didn’t even live in Cantrell. But Wendell and Barksdale, now they moved in the same circles. So maybe Barksdale arranged all of this after he found out he and Wendell shared a thing for kids. That could be how Wendell and Clancy hooked up. Through Barksdale.”