Redemption (34 page)

“
What? This looks like the grand finale.”

“
It is.”

“
No more pranks?”

“
None. This is the serious part, what all this has been building up to.”

“
I still don’t—”

“
Sit.”

“
I’d rather—”

Autumn pulled him to the ground and sat next to him. “Beautiful spot, isn’t it? Best land in the county. Three streams, thick woods, level fields, fertile soil. Has an old nickname that says it all: Promised Acres.”

“
I’ve never heard of that nickname.”

Autumn sighed. “White people called it Snow Plantation.”

All the way through,
Overton thought.
All the way back to the beginning.
“This was Nathaniel Baker Snow’s land?”

“
Yep. This is the land he promised to his slaves after the war.”

“
I’ve never heard of that either.”

She patted his thigh. “Not the stuff for history books. Know who all these people are?”

Overton looked around him. “No.”

“
These are all the living descendants of Nathaniel Baker Snow’s slaves.”

This has to be the
very
beginning.
“All these people?”

“
It took, oh, five years to track ‘em, or should I say,
trace
‘em all down.” Autumn took Overton’s hand. “You know why we’re all here, don’t you?”

“
No. I don’t.”

“
We’ve come here today to make Nathaniel Baker Snow’s promise come true.”

It’ll never happen.
“And how do y’all expect to do that?”

Autumn let go of Overton’s hand. “We have the original promise in Nathanial Baker Snow’s own handwriting. It’s an authentic, legal, signed, witnessed document that Hezekiah Willis, Julius Willis’s father and Miss Callie’s great-grandfather, found and kept all those years ago, even though Hezekiah didn’t know a single word that it said. Naturally, Nathaniel Baker Snow reneged on the deal, telling his former slaves to sharecrop or die. What could they do? They sharecropped
and
died. Right here in these woods.” She scooped up some dirt and rolled it in her hands. “This could be my great-great-grandfather, huh?” She returned the dirt to the ground. “Guess who has the promise now?”

“
Callie?”

“
Not even close, but you only get one guess.”

Overton looked at the people around him, focusing on their faces. Some looked grim, some determined, most relaxed and smiling. “What if—”

“
Ain’t gonna be no
what if,
Miles,” Autumn said. “
As soon as Curtis Daniels gets here, we gonna kick some ass.”

Huh?
“Curtis Daniels?”

“
Geez, Miles, you still haven’t thought it all the way through.” She patted his back. “Don’t worry. It’ll come to you.”

The crowd to their left stirred, many of them standing and pointing.

“
He’s here,” Autumn said.

A BMW cruised in and parked near the foundation.

“
Whose money paid for that?” Overton asked.

“
Shh, and why are you sitting? Get up and go be a witness to history, Miles.”

Overton stood, his legs shaky, and walked around people, many of them nodding and saying “Hey, Sheriff.”

Could this really be happening?

55

What’s he doin’ here?
Jimmy Lee thought.
What is my lawyer doing here?

“
Good day, Mr. Sellers, Mr. Watkins, Mr. Dillard, Sheriff Overton.” Curtis Daniels opened his briefcase on the table. “How is everyone doing this fine day?”

“
Can’t complain,” Travis said, and he and Overton moved a few feet away.

“
You here to bid, Mr. Daniels?” Jimmy Lee asked.

Daniels withdrew a single piece of paper. “I cannot bid, Jimmy Lee, and neither can anyone else.” He handed the paper to Jimmy Lee. “Have you ever seen this before, Mr. Sellers?”

Jimmy Lee squinted at the document. “What is this? Who wrote this?”

“
Nathaniel Baker Snow himself wrote it back in eighteen sixty-six,” Daniels said.

“
I can’t read this shit,” Jimmy Lee said. “What does it say?”

“
Do you want the short version or the long version?” Daniels asked.

“
The short one,” Jimmy Lee said. “I got an auction about to begin.”

Daniels shook his head. “There can be no auction, Mr. Sellers. The document in your hand granted all this property to Hezekiah Willis, Wilson Harper, and Reg Poindexter one hundred and thirty-three years ago.”

“
Who were they?” Jimmy Lee asked.

“
Nathaniel Baker Snow’s former slaves,” Daniels said.

What is this bullshit?
“So? They’re dead, right?”

“
Ah, but their descendants are not,” Daniels said. “They are the rightful owners of this land.”

That shit ain’t happenin’.
“I own this land. I got this land as part of my daddy’s will.”

“
True,” Daniels said. “But nevertheless, you do not own this land
legally,
Mr. Sellers. This document precedes and supersedes any deal your father may have made.”

Jimmy Lee found it hard to breathe and fanned himself with the paper. “How do you know that this is, uh, this piece of paper—”

“
Is authentic?” Daniels said.

Jimmy Lee nodded.

“
You are holding a copy, of course, but I’ve taken the original document to handwriting experts at the Smithsonian, and we compared it to Nathaniel Baker Snow’s many letters and diaries. The writing matches right down to the eccentric little T’s he made.”

Oh, shit.
“Isn’t there a statute of limitations or something?”

“
I checked into that, too,” Daniels said. “I took it up to the capital, ran it by several esteemed judges, and even sent a copy to the Supreme Court for comment. These jurists told me that Nathaniel Baker Snow’s promise is
still
good and that this document is a legally binding agreement with the heirs of Hezekiah Willis, Wilson Harper, and Reg Poindexter
forever
.”

Jimmy Lee noticed Overton and Dillard smiling at him.
What y’all smilin’ for?
He pulled Daniels away to the BMW. “Goddammit, Mr. Daniels, this is bullshit! You’re my lawyer. Get me out of this!”

Daniels smiled. “I would get you out of this if I were, indeed, your lawyer, Mr. Sellers. I only serve those who pay their
bills
in a timely fashion.”

“
I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about that,” Jimmy Lee said. “What do I owe you, ten, twenty thousand?”

Daniels sighed. “You do not owe me anymore, Mr. Sellers. You owe a collection agency.”

“
What?
”

“
Your account was several months past due,” Daniels said. “With interest and the
three
funerals you’re generously paying for next week—”

“
But I’m only paying for Michael’s!” Jimmy Lee interrupted.

Daniels squinted. “I’m sorry. You must not have gotten my e-mail.”

“
I didn’t.”
Because my
computer’s possessed.

“
Mr. Rydell wanted a nice funeral for Annie and for Darcy, and now you owe a shade over eighty thousand dollars.” Daniels withdrew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Here are the particulars.”

“
Eighty thou—” He read the statement, his legs weakening when he saw the total: “$83,457.15.” He pulled out Mazie’s and Reverend Kemp’s checks and added them in his head.
Oh, this is too much!
He whirled around in a circle. “Where are the cameras?”

“
What cameras, Mr. Sellers?” Daniels asked.

“
The
Candid Camera
cameras!” Jimmy Lee yelled. “This
has
to be a joke!
Tell me this is a joke!
”

“
It is not a joke, Mr. Sellers,” Daniels said. “Oh, by the way, I’ve exhausted all means to keep Mr. Rydell in jail. He will be out in a couple hours. I just thought that you would want to know.”

“
Creed can’t get out,” Jimmy Lee said.

Daniels checked his watch. “Oh my,” he said. “I have lost track of the time. Creed Rydell will be a free man in ten minutes.”

Jimmy Lee’s jaw flopped up and down, his lips slapping together.
I’ll just get Ramsey— Damndamndamndamn!
He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Look, if I pay you right now, can you make a call, you know, keep him there?”

“
Do you have this exact amount with you right now?” Daniels asked.

Jimmy Lee numbly handed the checks to Daniels. “Yeah. To the penny.”

Daniels stared at one then the other. “Quite a coincidence.” He smiled at Jimmy Lee. He tucked the checks into his inside pocket and took out a cell phone. “This will only take a moment,” he said, and he walked around to the other side of the BMW.

Jimmy Lee felt light-headed, muttering and spinning in a circle.
Well, at least I broke even. Wait. I’m broke. There’s the auction—no. Can’t have an auction. Sell the Jag? No, there’s a scarecrow in the back seat. Sell the Home Place? No. Ramsey’s in the safe. Margaret’s money? No. Can’t collect since she killed herself.
He felt in his pocket for some change and came out with a penny. “Hello, Mr. Lincoln,” he said, and he continued spinning.

56

Overton almost felt sorry for Jimmy Lee. He looked so alone spinning in place all by himself in the sunlight and flipping a penny while a thousand soon-to-be-landowners watched and waited in the shadows.

Overton nudged Travis. “Jimmy Lee gets a goose-egg today, huh?”

“
Yep.”

“
No half a mil.”

“
Nope.”

“
You knew this when you visited us at Annie’s.”

“
Yep.”

“
What about your commission?”

Travis smiled and nodded in Jimmy Lee’s direction. “Watchin’ him lose his mind is commission enough. I couldn’t stand his daddy, and I sure can’t stand him.”

“
Is that the point of all this?”

“
One of ‘em,” Travis said. “That boy is ruined. No money, no mind, no political career.”

“
How can you say that?” Overton asked.

Travis chuckled. “Would you vote for
that?
”

Jimmy Lee still spun, his circle widening, the penny climbing higher and higher.

“
I see your point,” Overton said.

Travis squeezed Overton’s shoulder. “Well, at least you got my vote—again.”

“
Thanks,” Overton said. “Don’t know if I’m running yet, though.”

“
You’ll run,” Travis said. “Got all these people countin’ on you. They helped get you elected, what, three times? They made sure you were in charge to see this through.”

“
See
what
through, Travis?” Overton asked. “I haven’t done anything.”

Travis laughed loudly and nearly toppled off the foundation. “I know!” He stood. “That’s what we hoped you’d do, and that’s why we’ll help you get re-elected.”

“
You hoped I’d do nothing?” Overton asked.

“
Right.” Travis chuckled and checked his watch. “And you didn’t disappoint us. Oh, Jimmy Lee’s about to get a phone call.”