Redemption (24 page)

Just be yourself, they tell me. Just be yourself.

I wonder if I can do that anymore.

35

Cranky and already sweating, Overton watched the sunrise in his car, which rested at the end of the Lavenders’ driveway. He hadn’t slept, mulling over his notes and diagrams before balling them up and throwing them into the backseat.

Everything points to Jimmy Lee Sellers, but I can’t prove a damn thing because all the potential witnesses are dead except for Jimmy Lee himself. He killed J back in ‘83, I’m almost sure of it, and he has probably killed off all these folks so that no secrets from his past will surface that could destroy his political career. It also saves him a great deal of money from the payoffs his daddy made. But if he’s anything like his daddy, he won’t confess to any of it. What would he confess to anyway? Accidents and suicides?

And official ones at that.

He looked up to see Sharese carrying a plate and a mug toward him. She wore a State football jersey that hung nearly to the ground. “Hey Sheriff,” she said, and she handed the plate and mug through the window. “You didn’t have to sit out here all night. We’re fine. Really.”

Overton looked at the hot biscuits and coffee in front of him. “Just trying to help. Thanks for breakfast.”
Despite her sorrow, she takes time to make a nice breakfast for me.
“How’d the boys take it?”

“
Pretty hard, but Mama’s comin’ down from Hopewell to help out.”

“
How’s she doin’?”

“
Fine.”

He took a bite of a biscuit. “Delicious.”

“
Thanks.”

“
I’ve been thinking, and it may sound strange of me to suggest this, but maybe y’all ought to go on your vacation anyway, get away from here, give your boys something else to think about other than their daddy.”

“
That’s a good idea, but I have a funeral to prepare for, and I can’t get into McSorley’s until Thursday.”

“
Why so late?”

“
Ms. Mitchem’s and Darcy’s funeral is on Monday, Lester’s is on Tuesday, and Margaret Ledbetter’s is on Wednesday.”

Overton shook his head. “Who told you that?”

“
It’s in today’s
Beacon
.”

Oh yeah. Funerals are social events in Snow.
“You need any help there?”

“
No. It’s all taken care of. Jimmy Lee just called, and he wants to pay for it all. He and Michael were such good friends.”

What did Michael just tell me? “I haven’t spoken to Jimmy Lee ...” I knew Michael was lying to me.
“They talk a lot then?”

“
Every day just about, sometimes three or four times a day. I know Michael called Jimmy Lee at least that often.”

Maybe I don’t need witnesses so badly after all. Phone records might help out just fine. But it’s all so circumstantial.
“What’d they talk about?”

Sharese shrugged and moved a lock of hair from her eyes. “I don’t know. Their glorious athletic pasts, probably. Jocks and their stories. Michael took the phone to his study most of the time.” She looked at the ground. “I look a mess.”

“
You look fine.”

“
No, I mean, I’ve got folks comin’ over, and I’m wearin’ one of Michael’s ratty ol’ jerseys. I better get back and get the boys ready. The phone’s been ringin’ off the hook, you know, folks bringin’ food and such.” She stepped away from the window. “Thank you so much for your concern.”

“
You take care.”

Sharese looked out onto 109. “Here comes someone now. Looks like Ms. Poindexter.”

Callie’s back?
Overton turned and saw Callie in her Jeep with a glass casserole dish in her lap.
Home a day early and the first to arrive with a fully-cooked casserole?

She stopped the Jeep next to his car. “Mornin’, Sheriff,” she said with a nod.

Overton tipped his hat. “Mornin’, Ms. Poindexter.”

Sharese giggled. “Now Sheriff, that’s no way to talk to your future bride.”

“
How did—”

But Callie cut him off with a wave of the hand. “Get in, Sharese, and leave the Sheriff alone. He’s got an important errand to run.” She rubbed her ring finger as Sharese climbed up into the Jeep. “And he
better
get it done today.”

“
Uh, well I—”

Callie narrowed her eyes. “Or he
won’t
be seein’ me tonight.”

Overton started the car. “I guess I’ll be running that errand then.”

“
You better,” Sharese said with a smile, and Callie drove off.

What the hell just happened?

Overton drove directly to 15 Poplar Street and parked beside the massive stone and wrought-iron fence that surrounded the Sellers Home Place, a brick Tudor that supposedly had seven bedrooms and ten bathrooms.
Guess one of the Sellers had a bladder problem.

He had only been inside once, at one of Senator Sellers’ victory parties, and Jimmy Lee, Junior, had given him a tour. Marble fireplaces, four ovens, a two-story library, wrought-iron balconies, a walk-in safe, a wine cellar, chandeliers, a state-of-the-art intercom and stereo system, gilded mirrors, each sofa and chair a piece of someone’s else’s history, the pedicured lawn with the brick walks and outdoor lighting called “The Grounds.”

And Jimmy Lee lives all alone in that museum.

As soon as his mother, Grace, had died mere months after the Senator, Jimmy Lee dismissed the maids, butler, cooks, and groundskeepers, which was huge news in Snow that Autumn dutifully reported to the world.

And only now did Overton know the real reason why: Jimmy Lee couldn’t afford his household staff. He didn’t even have a campaign manager.

Paying taxes on all that land and property, paying a lawyer to
keep
Creed Rydell in jail, keeping Michael happy, providing Lester with a Land Cruiser and, by extension, putting Mrs. Williams in a retirement community—Jimmy Lee couldn’t be anything but broke. But if the auction goes as planned and Margaret’s life insurance pays off in his favor, Jimmy Lee is about to become a millionaire again.

In less than a week.

He drove back to Lester’s and found Ramsey talking to the fan again. “Ramsey, time to go make some money for the county.”

“
Speed-trap time?”

Overton’s shoulders drooped. “Don’t call it that.”
Though in effect, that’s exactly what it is.
“Just get out to Six-twenty and slow folks down. And be visible, okay? No hiding behind that dumpster near the Calhoun County line. We want the weekenders to get to Pine Lake in one piece so they can spend lots of their money, okay?”

“
Sure. What’s acceptable today?”

Overton hated to decide. “Sixty-one and over.”

“
Sixty-one? That’s six over. Why not fifty-seven?”

He fixed Ramsey with a hard stare. “Sixty-one, and warn more people than you cite, especially if they’re pulling a boat. Leave the keys to the OJ-Mobile in case I need to get out.”

Ramsey tossed him the keys. “Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

After Ramsey left, Overton called Lester’s mother. “How are you holding up, Mrs. Williams?”

“
Holdin’ up? I ain’t. These fools won’t let me come to my own son’s funeral! They say I can’t travel in my delicate condition. I ain’t never been delicate. I tell ‘em I have one good hip, but they say I need two.”

“
I’ll definitely be there for you, Mrs. Williams.”

“
Well, you’ll be the only one. Freddie, my sister’s boy, he was supposed to do all the arrangin’ at McSorley’s, but he ain’t done shit. I done it all myself over the telephone. None of them will be there probably, and his daddy’s family’s triflin’, no good sons-of-bitches.”

“
I promise, Mrs. Williams. Deputy Saunders and Autumn Harper will go with me.”

“
Deputy who?”

“
Deputy Saunders. Ramsey Saunders. He’s new.”

Mrs. Williams chuckled. “Is he now? Hmm. And is that the Autumn Harper who’s kin to the Calhoun Harpers?”

What has this got to do with anything?
“I don’t know.”

“
Never mind then. What you want?”

“
I think I’ve figured it all out, Mrs. Williams.”

“
Figured out what?”

“
Figured out everything.”

“
I doubt it, but tell me anyway.”

Overton took a deep breath. “Jimmy Lee Sellers, Junior, murdered Jeremiah Poindexter with the help of one or more of the following: Michael Lavender, Darcy Rydell, and Margaret Ledbetter. At any rate, each of those people knew what had happened. And Senator Sellers helped cover it up.” He paused. “Mrs. Williams?”

“
I’m listenin’. Go on.”

She hasn’t disputed a thing I’ve said.
“Am I right?”

“
I’ll let you know. What’s your proof?”

“
Well for one, except for Jimmy Lee, they’re all dead, which isn’t exactly proof, but it’s a mighty powerful persuader. Have you heard about Margaret Ledbetter and Michael Lavender?”

“
Yes.”

“
Who told you?”

“
I have my sources, too, Sheriff.”

Way down in Florida?
“Who?”

“
Just go on, Sheriff.”

Who has she been talking to? Autumn?
“Anyway, I think that Jimmy Lee’s cleaning up his past so he’ll be scandal-free as a senator.”

“
So you
think
. So who killed my Lester?”

“
I’m thinkin’ Jimmy Lee again. I think Lester knew something about Jeremiah’s death.” His interview with Lester flashed in his mind. “He said he filled up Jeremiah’s car, but the car’s gas tank was empty when they pulled it from Pine Lake.”

“
You sayin’ my Lester had somethin’ to do with the death of that boy?”

Tread lightly, old man.
“I don’t know, and I can’t know, Mrs. Williams, but Lester knew something. Maybe Jimmy Lee told him that he and Michael were playing a prank, you know how boys can be, and you have to admit that a gas station in Snow isn’t the kind of business that can build a man a house, get him a Land Cruiser, and put you in a retirement community.”

“
You tryin’ to ruin the memory of my boy?”

“
No ma’am. I’m just tryin’ to find out the truth.”

“
But Michael Lavender was J’s best friend. Explain
that
one.”

“
I don’t know if I can. Michael attended Mt. Zion and was the only one of that bunch who most likely knew the way back there. I think J was killed at Mt. Zion. And Michael
did
end up with Jeremiah’s girl.”

Mrs. Williams scowled. “Well, you’re right about Jimmy Lee and the white girls, but not about Lester, and not about Michael. And you can’t prove shit, can you?”

“
No ma’am, I can’t.”
Not without a confession from Jimmy Lee or possession of Darcy’s diary, if it still exists, and even a good lawyer could poke holes in that diary.
“But if you could tell me how
you
know that Jimmy Lee killed Jeremiah, that might help me get to Jimmy Lee for what I think he’s doing now.”

“
You are completely out your mind!” Mrs. Williams spat. “You want a boy’s mama to ruin her only son’s memory? You want me to blame
my
boy for what Jimmy Lee done?”

“
I’m not blaming Lester, Mrs. Williams. I’m just sayin’ that—”

“
Yes you are,” Mrs. Williams interrupted. “And now I’m glad I ain’t comin’ up there! Good-bye!”

Click.