Дэвид Балдаччи - The Guilty

“Or maybe Clancy was never supposed to know Wendell was even involved.”

“Right. That’s more likely. But Clancy was enterprising, saw his chance and took it.”

“But you found out that Barksdale didn’t leave Cantrell until a couple years after you did.”

“Maybe that’s when Clancy started to put the squeeze on him. He had pictures. It would be the blue-blood Barksdale’s ruin. Hell, maybe he sold the house in order to pay off Clancy.”

“This is something we need to find out for sure.”

Robie pulled out his phone. “Well, we know a place that’s good at gathering information.”

Blue Man answered his phone on the second ring.

Robie patiently explained the situation and asked for what he needed.

Robie could hear the man jotting down no-doubt-meticulous notes. When he was finished Blue Man said, “Interesting theory.”

“I hope you can confirm it as more than a theory.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“And thanks for sending Jessica down here. I wouldn’t be talking to you if she hadn’t been around to save my butt.”

“I like to plan for all contingencies. And Robie?”

“Yes?”

“I can understand why you’re doing this, even if I don’t agree with it.”

“Thank you for that,” replied a surprised Robie.

“My relationship with my father was something less than ideal, too.”

He clicked off.

Robie looked at Reel as he put his phone away. “He’s on the case, but we can’t rely just on that. We need to work the angles we can, too.”

“Starting with?”

“Sherman Clancy’s first wife. She was in court when my father was arraigned.”

“Do you know where she lives?” Reel asked.

“No, but I’m sure we can find out.”

“Even if she knows something do you really expect her to admit it to us?”

“Like you said before, it’s all in how you ask, Jess.”

Cassandra Clancy had never remarried. She lived about twenty miles from Cantrell.

As Robie and Reel drove up the cobblestone drive and pulled to a stop in front of the large, well-appointed two-story home with a BMW sedan parked out front, Reel said, “Looks like she got her pound of flesh from her husband in the divorce.”

“Hopefully, she managed her cash better than her ex did.”

They got out and went up to the door.

Robie knocked, and they heard footsteps heading their way.

The door opened, and Cassandra stood there. Robie had not gotten a good look at her in the courtroom, but now he could see that she had aged poorly. Her skin sagged and was mottled with sun damage. Her hair had been permed to such an extent that it was thin and wispy, and her scalp showed through in various places. Her clothes were costly, though, and fit her stout body well, hiding the depth of the belly and width of the hips.

“Can I help you?” she said cautiously.

“I’m Will Robie. This is my friend, Jessica Reel.”

Cassandra looked from one to the other before settling her gaze back on him. “Damn, Will, you’ve changed, honey. Didn’t recognize you. Not that we knew each other all that well way back when.”

“No, I guess we didn’t. But I went to school with a couple of your children.”

“I remember now I saw you in the courtroom. Didn’t put two and two together.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Well, if your daddy killed Sherm I owe him my thanks.”

“I take it you didn’t get on with your ex-husband.”

“I hated his guts. He dumped me for a floozy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So was I,” she said sharply.

“I saw you sitting with the floozy in the courtroom.”

Cassandra took a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, tapped one out, struck a match, and lighted up. “Time heals wounds. You two want to come in?”

They followed her inside, and Robie noted the luxurious appointments throughout the rooms they passed. She led them out onto the back patio, accessed through French doors. The grounds were fenced in, and there was a large, tiered fountain, professional landscaping, and wrought iron benches parked in various places.

Robie looked around. “Well, I’m glad to see you did okay financially.”

She grimaced. “I should have gotten more, but old Sherm, while a total shit, was cunnin’ as a gator on the hunt. He hid assets. He was worth ten times what he said he was when he filed the divorce papers. But I did okay. And I managed my money well. I’ll never have to work again. And who knows, since the son of a bitch died without a will, I might get a few more bucks from his estate.”

She pointed to a full pitcher and some glasses set on a wooden console. “Y’all want some sweet tea?”

Knowing that it might put him into a diabetic coma, Robie declined. So did Reel. Cassandra rose, poured herself a glass with plenty of ice, and sat back down. She took a long sip, smacking her lips.

“Nothin’ better on earth.”

“I’m sure,” said Robie. “So the money had come from the sale of the mineral rights on the farm you both owned?”

She tapped ash into an ashtray and eyed him suspiciously. “Look, what the hell is all this about?”

“Just following up leads with my dad’s case.”

“I see. I didn’t know your daddy all that well. But I never heard anyone say a word against him. Good man. I was sorry to hear about all the trouble he’s in now.”

“Do you think he could have killed your ex?”

“I don’t know. I can tell you I wanted to kill Sherm many times. Just never had the guts to do it.” She paused. “He was proud of you, I know that.”

“Who? Your husband?”

“No. Your daddy.”

“How do you know that?”

“Many’s the time I sat on the bleachers next to him at the games, that’s how. This was before I got divorced, of course. Two of my boys played for Cantrell. They were ahead of you in school by a few years, but I still went to all the home games even after they graduated. Anyway, your daddy would cheer like mad. Tellin’ everybody around him what a tough son of a gun you were. Thought the man would pop with pride.”

“He never said anything to me.”

“Well, some men are like that. I don’t think Sherm ever complimented his boys either. Probably afraid it would make ’em soft if they thought they’d get praised for everythin’. So the idiot never said a kind word to ’em.”

“I guess some men are wired that way,” said Robie quietly, drawing a sharp glance from Reel.

Cassandra smiled and pointed a finger at him. “Now, you quarterbacked the Panthers to the state championship. Only good thin’ that ever happened in Cantrell, far as I’m concerned.”

“Thanks.” He paused and pondered how best to say it. “I remember your farm. It was a big one.”

“I remember that farm, too,” she replied. “And none of those memories are fond ones. We never made a dime growin’ crops. Worked our asses off for peanuts.”

“But then the mineral rights were sold. And Sherm parlayed that into business ties with the casino folks. And then the cash flow picked up nicely. And then you divorced. All pretty fast, actually. Just over a few years.”

She looked at him suspiciously again. “You seem to know a whole lot about our business.”

“I like to know things. Like, for instance, what sort of dealings your husband had with Henry Barksdale and Nelson Wendell .”

Robie emphasized the names to see the woman’s reaction.

Her complexion changed. “Nelson Wendell? The oilman? How would we know him?”

The lie was not very good, thought Robie.

“What energy company bought the mineral rights to your property, Ms. Clancy?” asked Reel.

The woman turned to face her. “Why does that matter?”