Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(91)

Claire





“He lay back, put his arm over his eyes, and tried to hold onto the anger, because the anger made him feel brave. A brave man could think. A coward couldn't.”

Stephen King, Misery





“Cletus.”

“Scarlet?”

“Did I wake you?” I glanced around me, mollified by all the empty seats surrounding my chair at the airport. Still, I made certain to keep my volume low so as not to be overheard.

“No. I was just waking up.” His scratchy voice told me he was lying.

But I didn’t have time be polite. “I need to talk to you about something very important. I need your help.”

Without hesitating, and sounding much more alert, he said, “Proceed.”

“I’m at the airport, about to fly back to Nashville.” I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t wish to expose him or Simone or anyone else to unnecessary risk. “I don’t know how many details you—uh—know about that night Billy rescued Simone and Roscoe at the diner, but the FBI are investigating Billy for assaulting my father while he was unconscious. They think Billy cut his hands.”

Now Cletus did hesitate before asking, “Did Billy tell you he cut Razor’s hands?”

“Did he tell you?” I countered.

He was quiet for a beat, like this question was a riddle. “No. He hasn’t talked to me about it and I didn’t ask him, but I suspect.” His voice reminded me of Billy’s, so stark, resigned. “I have spoken to Simone about it, however. She gave me a friendly heads-up about the FBI’s investigation. Between you and me, it’s been weighing on my mind.”

“I think I have a plan,” I whispered, tracking a man in a suit as he walked by my seat.

“You have a plan?”

“I do. But I need your help. I need you and Simone to get me in to see my father tomorrow, as soon as I touch down in Nashville.”

“Scarlet. No. You will not be exposed to that—”

“Listen to me, just wait a minute and listen. I’m guessing Razor won’t talk to anyone, right? Probably not even his legal team. But he’ll talk to me.”

Cletus made a grumbly grunting noise. “Why on earth would you want to talk to him?”

“I think, if Simone can get me in to see him, I can get Razor to admit he cut his own hands.”

“Wait. You don’t think Billy cut Razor’s hands?”

Choosing my words very carefully, I said, “I think Razor will admit to me that he framed Billy. I think I can then make a statement to the FBI swearing to this as fact. And then I think they’ll drop the investigation and your brother won’t go to jail. That’s what I think.”

I listened as something rustled, then the barest sound of footsteps, then a door close. “I hope you’re happy. I’m now sitting in the bathroom at the butt crack of dawn so Jenn can’t overhear your plan to commit perjury.”

“Who says it’s perjury?”

“Scarlet.”

“You have a better idea?”

“Fine. Fine. Let’s say you go see Razor. Let’s say you swear up and down, left and right that he admitted to framing Billy. Don’t you think it’s suspicious that you’re flying back in town just to meet with your father and exonerate the man you’re in a serious relationship with, about to marry, give birth to a litter of babies, and live happily ever after with for the rest of time?”

Despite the direness of the situation, I couldn’t help my involuntary amusement. If you give Cletus an inch, he’ll take a light-year.

“No. Because I’m not in town to see my father. I’m really there to perform at the Nashville Music Festival. Seeing my father is just a whim, a curiosity. I have no ulterior motive.”

“Oh yeah? Then what about being in a relationship with Billy? You don’t think they’ll see right through your bias?”

“Not if they don’t know Billy and I are together. So far, no one knows. Billy and I will be in Rome and by the time we get back to the States, it’ll all be over. The FBI will already have closed the case, stopped the investigation. Reasonable doubt counts for a lot. That’s also why I was thinking, if Simone could ask one or more of the agents to somehow overhear my side of the conversation, then it wouldn’t just be my word.”

“Those conversations between inmates and visitors are completely private. No one will hear him unless he agrees to it. You think Razor will agree to letting the FBI listen in on his conversation with you?”

“He doesn’t have to. In fact, it’s better if they don’t hear what he says. But I want them to hear me. I want them to hear what I say. Then no one is lying.”

“Except you.”

“I never said I was going to lie. I simply—”

“Right, right. You think you can get him to admit he cut his own hands.” He grumbled once more, something indistinct, but then said, “Simone speaks highly of that Agent Nelson. She’d make the most sense.”

A flash of hope burst in my chest and I sat up straighter. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

“On the scale from one to ten of the illegal things I’ve done—sorry, allegedly illegal—this is like a three. Maybe even a two point five,” he mumbled. “We can’t let anyone else know what you have planned. I’m not putting Simone or anyone else at peril. We tell everyone you’re there for the festival, but you had a sudden desire to visit dear old dad in prison.”