Rich Blood (Jason Rich #1)(25)

Despite his irritation, Jason smiled. He’d met Harry at Sammy’s exotic dance club in Birmingham. Jason had been interviewing one of the dancers, an eyewitness to a car wreck involving Jason’s client, when a few of the patrons had taken exception to his monopolizing the young woman’s time. Harry Davenport was the bouncer at Sammy’s and ceased the impending fight before Jason got roughed up. As they walked out of the place, Harry had given Jason his card, saying he did private investigating as his main business and was a cooler on the side. Jason had hired him on the spot, and he’d become the firm’s strongest asset outside of Izzy. He knew Harry, like Izzy, was just watching out for him.

“Look, Harry, I’m a lawyer. My sister has been charged with capital murder. Her daughters have lost their father. They need me. And besides, Guntersville is my home.”

“You haven’t been around in a few years. They’ll manage.” Harry’s face tightened. His jaw was set, his eyes grave. “And don’t give me any of this homecoming crap. I thought you hated your childhood.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t and shouldn’t try.” Jason cocked his head at the investigator. “What’s the deal, Harry? I mean, I know you and Izzy don’t want me to take this case, but aren’t you being a little over the top? I mean, I have to at least go to the funeral.”

“Why? Have either of them been there for you when you needed help? Did either of them write to you in rehab? Or call you after you split with Lakin?”

“She’s still my sister, and her daughters are my nieces. I have to go.” Jason slapped his hands together. “I can’t run from my problems, and there’s never going to be a perfect time to break back into practicing or to visit my sister.”

“It’s a shitstorm up there,” Harry said, his voice lower.

“What do you mean?” Jason sensed they were finally getting to the point.

“I mean, when Izzy said she thought Jana was going to contact you, I did some preliminary investigation.”

“And?”

“And it’s bad. There’s a handyman who’s confessed that Jana hired him to kill Dr. Waters. There’re rumors that she was in deep with the meth trade. Ever hear of a place called Sand Mountain?”

Jason squinted. “I grew up in Marshall County, remember? Course I have.”

“Then you know that there are places on Sand Mountain that are off the grid, which makes it a great place to make and sell methamphetamine.” Harry let out another puff of cigarette smoke. “And to get rid of people who get in the way. You know the name Tyson Cade?”

Jason shook his head.

“You will if you take Jana’s case. He’s the meth czar of Sand Mountain. My contacts in Marshall County say that all illicit drug sales go through Cade.” He narrowed his gaze. “They also say that Jana was screwing him.”

“Great.”

“The rumor swirling around Guntersville is that she owed Cade a lot of money and was . . . working it off until she could pay him back. Dr. Waters had a huge life insurance policy. He was about to divorce her. You can deduce the rest.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for the sneak preview.”

“Cade is not someone to mess with, Jason. I understand that you feel you have to go and see for yourself, but please, let someone else represent Jana. Fine, go to the funeral. Help the kids out as much as you can. Then refer Jana to a criminal defense attorney. Someone who knows what the hell they’re doing.” He patted Jason’s shoulder.

Jason climbed inside the car and turned the key. As the Porsche roared to life, he gazed up at his investigator.

“You know I’m right,” Harry said.

Jason peered over the steering wheel. When he spoke, it was more to himself than his friend. “Have you ever wondered who you really are? I mean, beyond what you do for a living, who you marry, who your friends are, how you spend your time . . . but literally, who in the hell you are. That simple, little question.” He looked at him. “Like me. Beyond the billboards, the addictions, my crazy family, my broken marriage, my successes and failures and bullshit, who am I?”

“We all wonder that, amigo,” Harry said, his voice subdued. “And some of us never figure it out.”

Jason put the car in gear. “Maybe not. But I think that’s what this is for me.”

As he began to pull out of the parking lot, he heard Harry’s voice behind him.

“Hey, J. R.”

He hit the brakes and looked over his shoulder at his investigator, who was silhouetted by the streetlamp above the sidewalk.

“Don’t get yourself killed.”





PART FOUR





19


When the man walked into the Alder Springs Grocery, he could tell the store clerk was watching him. He bought a Sun Drop, an oatmeal cream pie, and a pack of sugarless chewing gum. When he placed the goods on the counter, he winked at the clerk, whose face had turned almost as red as her hair.

“What’s up, Doob?”

Marcia “Dooby” Darnell rang him up and met his eye. “Tyson,” she said, as if saying the name pained her. “That’ll be six dollars and eighty cents.”

He handed her a ten-dollar bill and held up a hand when she started to collect his change. “Keep it.”