Between Black and White (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #2)(94)

Bo’s arms hung limp at his sides as he walked. He made no move to escape. Truth be known, he didn’t want to escape. He wanted to know. I have to know . . .

Bo walked to within a few feet of where the water met the rocky sand, and stopped.

“Turn around,” Maggie said, and Bo did as he was told.

In the darkness, though she was only three feet away, Maggie looked like a shadow.

“Why did you kill Tucker?” Bo finally asked, unable to shake the image of the dead man with the orange cap and flannel shirt from his mind. He had seen two corpses in the past three hours. Ray Ray Pickalew and now Larry Tucker. And I’ll be the third one, Bo thought.

“Officially,” Maggie began, “Larry Tucker dropped by the farm, saying he wanted to talk about what happened at trial today.” Though he couldn’t see her face, Bo could tell by Maggie’s tone that she was smiling. “I buzzed him to come up and meet me at the clearing, as today is my day to inspect the north half of the farm. When he arrived, he was drunk and belligerent. He said, ‘George ruined everything,’ and that he needed to find him. When I said I didn’t know where George was, he said he was going to kill me. He climbed into his truck to grab his weapon, and I shot him through the open window before he could shoot me.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Bo said, figuring Maggie could probably sell that story. “What’s the unofficial version?”

“George called Larry and asked him to meet him at the clearing. When Larry arrived, he saw me and rolled his window down to talk. Once the window was down, I pointed the barrel of this twelve-gauge at him and blew his brains out.”

Bo felt a cold chill on the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the temperature. The matter-of-factness with which Maggie spoke was startling.

“Why?” Bo asked. “Why Tucker?”

She shrugged. “Loose ends. Larry knew too much for his own good, and after Pickalew’s testimony today he was going to finish his life in jail. I didn’t want him cutting any deals for information with the prosecutors.”

“What information would he have?”

“I really don’t know,” Maggie said. “Andy’s lips had loosened some in the past few years. Since I didn’t know what Larry knew, the safer play was to get rid of him.”

“Getting rid of people is one of your specialties, isn’t it, Ms. Maggie?”

She stepped closer to him, and now he could see her. Her eyes squinted from behind the barrel of the gun. “Don’t get sassy with me, Bocephus. Or I’ll put an end to this right now.”

“What about Sheriff Petrie?” Bo asked, knowing he had to keep her talking. “He’s still around.”

“Ennis doesn’t know anything. He had just joined the Klan when Roosevelt was lynched.”

“What about Ray Ray?” Bo asked. “Why did he testify today? Why did he bring it all down?”

Another pause, and faint moonlight began to emerge through the clouds above. For the first time since reaching the pond, Bo could see Maggie’s eyes. She was gazing past Bo as if in thought, holding the gun against her hip. He could probably rush her and get the gun if he was quick enough.

“You know how many rabbits and squirrels I’ve shot in my life with this gun right on my hip like this here?” It was as if she could read his mind. “Don’t even think about it, Bo. Or I’ll fill you full of lead before you find out what you’ve waited your whole life to know.”

“Why did Ray Ray spill the beans today?”

“You’d have to ask him,” Maggie said. “I suspect it was because he didn’t care anymore. Maybe Doris died or was already about dead. I guess we’ll never know now, will we?” She smiled, and Bo again felt the chill on the back of his neck.

“That was you?” Bo asked.

She nodded. “I hired a man to kill you, but Ray Ray got in the way.”

“JimBone Wheeler,” Bo said, feeling weak in the knees.

Maggie again nodded. “Mr. Wheeler was fairly easy to recruit for this job. Apparently, you had a bit of a history with him.”

Several seconds went by, and the clouds continued to move out. Light from the crescent-shaped moon shone down on the pond, and Orion became visible above. Bo gazed upward at the constellation, blinking his eyes. Maggie Walton was behind everything. Maggie was the monster my momma was talking about. Not Andy. Maggie . . .

“Tell me about Andy’s murder. I’m assuming your brother and Wheeler were a part it.”

Maggie nodded, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Once I hired Wheeler, I had him tail you for several days. He said you went to Kathy’s Tavern every night after work and had several drinks, so I asked Andy to take me there for my birthday. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist confronting Andy if you saw him, and I have to say that you went above and beyond with your ‘eye for an eye’ bit.” She licked her lips. “Of course, I also knew that you would eventually come here to the clearing on the anniversary. Every August 18 you come out here to talk with your father.” She chuckled. “That’s what you do, right? You talk to Roosevelt out here.”

“How do you know that?” Bo asked.

“I know everything that ever happens on this farm. And I know everything about you, Bo.”