Sparring Partners(10)

(11)


Two months passed without a word. Harry Rex located Odell Grove, and, not surprisingly, found that little had changed in his world. He and his two sons ran a logging business in the western edge of Ford County and stayed to themselves. He owned five acres of scrub forest and lived in a trailer with his wife. His sons had their own trailers just down the road. Jerrol Baker was serving a ten-year sentence for cooking meth. Under the ruse of seeking information in an embezzlement case, Harry Rex contacted the FBI and was told that the agent he’d met after Mack vanished had been transferred to Pittsburgh. He cajoled another agent into checking around the office, and was eventually informed that there was no open file on anybody named J. McKinley Stafford, of Clanton.

Jake had lunch with Sheriff Ozzie Walls, at Claude’s, and managed to work Mack Stafford into the conversation. Ozzie said nobody had heard a word and his office had no open file. For some reason, he believed the rumors about Mack stealing a pile of money were not true.

Carla taught third grade at the elementary school, and her principal was friendly with Lisa Stafford. For the past ten years, Lisa had worked as an assistant principal at the high school. She was now on leave, for health reasons, and her condition was not improving. On the last day of classes in late May, her colleagues threw a small party in her honor in the faculty lounge. She was described as gaunt and pale, and she wore a pretty scarf over her bald head. They did not expect to see her back in the fall.

As the weeks passed, Jake and Harry Rex talked less and less about Mack. They did not correspond with him because there was nothing to report. And they agreed in private that it would be best if he stayed away. His presence back in Mississippi would only complicate their lives, not to mention his. They were convinced no one was looking for Mack, but a return might possibly set in motion events that neither he nor they could control.

The complications began around noon on a Thursday with a phone call to Jake’s office. Alicia took it and buzzed Jake upstairs. “It’s a Mr. Marco Larman, says you’re expecting a call. Never heard of him.”

“I’ll take it.”

Jake swallowed hard and stared at the blinking button on his phone. Then he smiled and said to himself, “What the hell. This might be fun.” He punched the button and said, “Jake Brigance.”

“Mr. Brigance, I’m Marco Larman,” Mack began stiffly, as if someone else might be listening.

“Hello, Marco. What can I do for you?”

“Could you and Mr. Vonner meet me for a drink tomorrow afternoon in Oxford?”

That would be Friday afternoon, and Jake didn’t bother to look at his schedule because he knew there was nothing on it. Friday afternoons in warm weather meant the legal business in Clanton would be shut down. Harry Rex would not be in court because there would not be a judge within fifty miles of the courthouse. And, if he had appointments, he would cancel them for the adventure.

“Sure. When and where?”

“Around five p.m. The bar at the Ramada Inn.”

“Okay. So you’re stateside?”

“Let’s talk tomorrow.” The line went dead.





(12)


Jake insisted on driving for two reasons. The first was that Harry Rex behind the wheel was as dangerous as Harry Rex in the courtroom. He drove either too fast or too slow, ignored the basic rules of the road, and exploded with rage at the slightest infraction by another driver. The second was that it was Friday afternoon and he was already hitting the Bud Light. Jake declined a beverage and happily drove.

Just past the Clanton city limits, he said, “To be honest, this is kinda fun. Not your everyday client meeting.”

Harry Rex chewed on an unlit black cigar in the corner of his mouth. “I think the boy’s stupid. He made a clean break, nobody in the world knows where he was, and now he wants to come back to nothin’ but trouble. What kinda work’s he gonna do? Open up a law office?”

“I don’t think he plans to live here. He mentioned Memphis, someplace out of state.”

“Brilliant. As if the state line’ll stop trouble.”

“He’s not expecting trouble.”

“I get that, but the truth is he doesn’t know what to expect. I know things are quiet but her family could cause a ruckus.”

“They’re good folks. They’re more concerned with Lisa’s health than any bad memories of Mack Stafford.”

“That might be easy to assume, but no one can predict what’ll happen.”

“What can they do to Mack?”

“I doubt they have any love for the guy, right? They’re starin’ at the reality of raisin’ two teenage girls, something they weren’t plannin’ on in their golden years. All because their shifty ex-son-in-law took the money and ran away. I’d be pissed all right, wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Stop up there at Skidmore’s. I need a cold one.”

“You already have one.”

“It’s not cold.”

“How many have you had today?”

“You sound like my wife.”

“Just stop, ass.”

They bickered for an hour until Oxford came into view. On the west side of town, Jake pulled in to the parking lot of the Ramada Inn at five minutes before five. He knew the bar from his college days but had not seen it in years. The students were gone and it was empty. They got beers and found a table in a corner. Fifteen minutes passed and there was no sign of Mack.