Sparring Partners(9)



“So, what are your plans?”

“Well, I would like to see Lisa and apologize. Probably won’t happen, but I’ll try. I’d like to at least attempt to reconnect with Margot and Helen. They’re seventeen and sixteen now, probably about to be orphaned. My plans include you and Harry Rex. I’m not asking you to get involved, just keep your ears and eyes open. If there’s no indictment on the books and none pending, and if there are no warrants for my arrest, then I’ll ease back into the country. I’m not going to stay in Clanton, that’s an ugly thought. I’ll probably hide in Memphis, across the state line. If there’s a hint of trouble, I’ll vanish again. I’m not going to prison, Jake, I can promise you that.”

“You can’t keep it quiet, Mack. If you show up anywhere in Ford County, everyone will know it overnight.”

“True, but they won’t see me. I’ll come and go in the night. The two clients who got the twenty-five thousand in cash were Odell Grove and Jerrol Baker. Ask Harry Rex to check on them. Baker was stoned on meth when he signed the settlement agreement, so he could be dead, or in prison again. I don’t expect any trouble out of them.”

“And the other two?”

“Doug Jumper is in fact dead. Travis Johnson left the area years ago.”

Jake finished his beer and sat back in his seat. “What’s your schedule?”

“I don’t have one. You and Harry Rex poke around for a few weeks. If all is clear, I’ll show up eventually. I’ll call your office one day.”

“And if we get wind of trouble?”

“Send an overnight letter here to the lodge, addressed to Marco Larman.”

“That’s getting close to aiding and abetting.”

“But not close enough. Look, Jake, don’t do anything that you’re not sure of. I promise you’ll never be compromised.”

“I believe you.”

“How many people know about this little vacation of yours?”

“Harry Rex and my parents. They’re keeping Hanna and Luke. We told no one else, said we were just getting out of town for a few days.”

“Great. Stick with that story. I really appreciate this, Jake.”

“Thanks for the trip. We’ll never forget it.”

“Anytime, and it’s always on me.”





(10)


After a day of being massaged and pampered, Carla was ready for the trails. They left the lodge early, on bikes and without a guide, and wound their way through the jungle on well-trodden paths. They stopped for photos at scenic overlooks, usually with the ocean shimmering on the horizon, and they sipped mango juice while sitting in the mouth of a cave. After two hours, they were winded and looking for a place to rest when they happened upon the Swedes. Olga and Luther were staying at the lodge but were rarely around, primarily because they were either hiking or biking up another mountain or off kayaking a raging river. They were at least thirty years older than Jake and Carla, lean and wiry and in superb physical condition. They ate only fruits and vegetables, drank no alcohol, and had slept two nights in a hut at the top of a very tall tree that one had to shinny up with backpacks filled with bedding, food, and water. They claimed to be world-class eco-tourists and had been everywhere. Jake and Carla were quietly envious of people who had seen the world, not to mention the fact that, at the age of seventy, they were fit enough to live thirty more years.

After they sped away, Jake said, “I need a beer. Those people make me want to drink.” He was sprawled across a thatched picnic table at the edge of a stream.

“Sip your mango juice. Did we finish the conversation about Mack and his plans?”

“I think so. His plans are vague. He misses home and wants to see his mother and his girls.”

“Yes, we covered that.”

“You think Lisa will allow it?”

“I can’t predict. If she were healthy, she might be tougher to deal with. I can’t imagine what he wants to say to Margot and Helen.”

“Hey girls, I’m back? Miss me?”

“That might be a tough meeting. Let’s go cowboy. How’s your crotch?”

“The saddle on this bike is more uncomfortable than the one on the horse.”

“Oh, man up.”

They reached a peak, or some point up in the clouds where Jake finally quit, and they turned around and coasted down the trails, arriving at the lodge in time for a late lunch. It was followed by a long afternoon, their last, by the pool, with Ricardo keeping their drinks fresh.

Their last dinner was just like the others—outdoors on the veranda, with the pool nearby, a magnificent sunset, and the other guests in fine form.

Their week in paradise was over, and they fell asleep to the sounds of wicker ceiling fans and macaws squawking in the distance.

Ricardo woke them at six, the appointed time, and brought them food for the trip. He loaded their luggage onto his cart and they hustled down to the front reception where a van was waiting.

Jake said, “I’ll go check out.”

Ricardo said, “No, Mr. Jake, it’s taken care of.”

“But the food and drinks.”

“Everything is covered, Mr. Jake.”

Which was exactly what Jake was expecting, though he felt obliged to make an effort anyway. He tipped Ricardo generously, and they headed for San José.

John Grisham's Books