Thicker Than Water (26 page)

He let Susan drive, not sure he could handle the roads as tired as he was. She was quiet, but he sensed she was happy. This miserable case was over and her client was absolved of murder, including Kitty's.

Susan pulled up in the drive of J.C. Landscaping and cut the engine. “By the way, thanks for coming with me,” she said. “I hate coming out here alone.”

“I don't blame you.”

He followed her to the trailer door and waited while she knocked. He didn't see anyone working in the yard, but Ronnie's truck was parked near the shed. Eric opened the door and let them in.

Jack Cade was sitting in a worn chair, dressed in his boxers and a T-shirt. A beer can sat on the table next to him. Ronnie was in the kitchen and Louis could smell hamburger cooking. Eric slumped back down into the couch and trained his eyes on the television. They were watching an old version of
Star Trek.

“Jack,” Susan said. “We have some good news.”

“Don't tell me,” Cade said. “You got me off.”

Susan glanced at Louis. “Yes. They've dropped the murder charges for Spencer Duvall. They're charging Scott Brenner.”

Cade's eyes jumped to Louis. “My lawyer? Fuck, don't that beat all? What about my new trial thing and the money? Who's going to handle that?”

Louis came further into the room. “Brian Brenner has been arrested for killing Kitty Jagger. When he's convicted and the story comes out of how they set you up, lawyers will be beating down your door to represent you.”

Cade stood up slowly, the beer can in his hand. “That snotty little bastard . . .”

Eric and Ronnie looked at Cade.

“You mean to tell me that piece of shit killed that girl,” Cade said. “And he stole
my
fucking tool? And then put the panties in
my
truck? Those cocksucking bastards!”

Cade flung the beer can toward the kitchen. It smashed against the wall, splattering beer.

Ronnie had flinched and was still half-cowering at the stove. Louis glanced at Eric. He was staring at the beer dripping down the wall.

Eric rose slowly and went to pick up the beer can.

“Leave it the fuck alone!” Cade yelled.

Eric dropped it and looked up at his grandfather.

“What are you looking at?” Cade spat. “Get out of my face.”

Eric started toward his room, and Cade caught his arm, spinning him around. “Go outside. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Cade, leave him alone,” Louis said. “Jesus.”

Eric jerked free and ran out the front door. Cade stood there for a moment, his eyes unfocused. Then he looked at Susan, who was standing there, stunned.

“How long before I get my money?” Cade asked.

Susan started to explain about how long lawsuits took, but Louis was looking beyond Cade, into the kitchen where he could see Ronnie wiping up the spilled beer. He turned and looked out the window. Eric was in the front yard, wiping his face, kicking some rocks through the dirt.

Cade's voice drew his attention back. “I think I'll ask for five million.” He smiled at Susan. “But you can settle for three. That ought to be enough to get me the fuck out of here.”

Ronnie turned from the stove toward his father. “What?”

“Mexico,” Cade said. “A man can live cheap there. Three mil will last me a lifetime.”

Ronnie came forward. “What about the business?”

Cade stared at him, but it was almost like he wasn't even seeing him anymore. “Who the hell wants it?”

Ronnie stared at his father, then turned and went back to the stove. Cade plopped back down in his chair. Susan was trying to explain something to him, but he was barely listening.

Louis flexed his aching hand.
The hell with this....

He turned and left the trailer. Eric was still out front, tossing rocks, trying to hit the pile of plastic containers stacked against the shed. He looked up at Louis and then his eyes went back to the trailer door. Louis walked up next to him.

“So he's not going back to jail, huh?” Eric asked, tossing another rock.

Louis hesitated. “No, he's not.”

Eric stared out across the rows of plants, his jaw set. Louis tried to think of something of comfort, something that would tell Eric things would get better. But he knew they wouldn't.

Eric looked up suddenly. “Can a kid get in trouble if he knows something?”

Louis couldn't read Eric's dark eyes.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Eric?”

Eric hesitated, then dropped the stones and started toward the shed. Louis followed. Eric went around the back, stopping at a group of potted palms.

He looked back at Louis, then lifted one of the palms from the pot.

“I hate him,” Eric whispered. “I just hate him.”

Louis looked down. The gun in the plastic bag looked like a hundred others he had seen. But he knew it wasn't. It was the Chinese Tokarev.

Louis looked back at Eric. “Does your father know about this?”

Eric shook his head.

Louis rubbed a hand over his face. “Go back inside, Eric,” he said. “Don't say anything about this. Just tell Miss Outlaw I'll be in the car.”

“No, no,” Eric said, shaking his head. “I can't go back in there. He'll kill me if he finds out.” Any bravado that had been in Eric's face was gone; he looked terrified.

“Eric, listen to me. You can't say anything, do you understand?”

“No—” Eric started to back away. Louis grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Eric, just go back inside and be quiet. Trust me, okay?”

Eric was close to crying, but he nodded. Louis let him go, his hand lingering on the boy's shoulder. He was shaking.

“Don't worry,” Louis said. “I'll take care of you.”

When he dropped Susan off at her house, she asked him if something was the matter. He told her nothing; he knew there was no way he could explain it to her. He wasn't even sure he could explain it to himself.

Back there at the Cade place, looking at Eric's face, he had made a decision. It hadn't come from that place Susan called his cop-brain. It had come from some place deeper inside him.

He headed the Mustang due west into the low slanting sun. The Tokarev was hidden in the trunk. He showed his resident badge at the causeway and drove on to Sanibel.

This time, when he appeared at Candace Duvall's door, the maid let him in without a word.

He found Candace and Hayley having drinks on the patio. Hayley saw him coming and set down her glass. Candace had her back to him, but turned when his shadow moved over the table.

She moved her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and looked at him, then turned her back. “What do you want now?”

“Money.”

Candace spun around in her chair, pulling off her sunglasses. “You've got to be kidding.”

“Twenty years ago, your husband covered up the identity of Kitty Jagger's killer and allowed Jack Cade to go to jail,” Louis said.

Candace's eyes flickered and she put her glasses back on. Louis had the feeling that what he had just said was not a surprise to her.

“You're nuts,” Candace said.

“I know how he did it and why he did it,” Louis said. “And I'm on my way to tell Jack Cade.”

“And why should I care?”

“Like I said, money. The Cades will sue your husband's law firm. Then they'll go after his personal assets, like this pretty house.”

Candace was sitting very still.

Louis moved around so he could see her face. “I might even suggest to them that you were behind your husband's scheme. Then they can come after you too.”

“I committed no crime,” Candace said.

“You want to tell that to a whole courtroom?” Louis asked. “With your girlfriend sitting right there in the first row?”

Candace looked over at Hayley. “How much?” she said.

“Fifty thousand, and I promise you that you'll never hear from me or the Cades again,” Louis said. “Think of it as a gift.”

Louis stared down at her. He was blackmailing her, but a part of him didn't care. Blackmail would be the least of it, if the rest of his plan worked.

Candace got up and went inside. Louis glanced down at Hayley. She was looking at him with a small smile on her lips.

Candace came back with a check, made out to cash. “How do I know you won't come back for more?”

“You'll just have to take my word for it, lady.”

It was dark by the time Louis got back to J.C. Landscaping. Ronnie's truck was gone, but Louis could see the blue light of the TV flickering in the window of the trailer.

Louis cut the engine and opened the car door. It was quiet for a moment, then came the buzz of insects flailing against the dome light. Louis looked down at the small blue gym bag on the passenger seat, then up at the trailer.

He grabbed the bag and got out.

At the trailer door, he knocked. The TV was turned up loud to a sitcom, the one about the alien Alf, and the shriek of the canned laughter pierced the night silence. Louis waited until a lull and banged hard on the door. It opened and Jack Cade peered at him.

“Louie . . .”

“Come on outside, Cade,” Louis said.

Cade rubbed a hand over his face. “What you want?”

“I want to talk.” Louis walked away. Cade followed, closing the door behind him. He stood on the patio, bare-chested, old jeans riding low on his flat stomach. His sweaty skin gleamed in the blue light coming from the television inside.

“What's up?” Cade asked.

“Where's Ronnie?”

“Went down to the Circle K. Why?”

“Eric go with him?”

“Yeah.” Louis could see Cade's eyes narrow. “What's up, Louie? What you doing back here?”

“We're going to strike a bargain, Cade,” Louis said.

Cade arched an eyebrow. “Bargain? What kind of bargain?”

“I'm going to give you money, Cade, and you're going to walk away forever.”

Cade's teeth flashed as he laughed. “Walk away? From what?”

“Your son, your grandson. And this place.”

Cade gestured to the desolate land. “This piece of paradise? Now why would I want to do that, Louie?”

“Because I have your Tokarev automatic.”

Cade froze. He was still smiling, but it had turned twisted in the blue light. Canned laughter drifted out of the trailer's jalousies, mixing with the whine of the mosquitoes in the humid night air.

“That little shit,” Cade whispered.

Cade turned away. He walked in a slow, tight circle around the patio. “That little shit,” he said louder. “I knew something was going on with that—”

“Cade,” Louis said sharply.

Cade looked back at him.

“You're going to take the money and you're going to leave,” Louis said. “You're going to leave Ronnie and Eric alone, you hear me? That's the bargain.”

“Why should I leave? I'm going to sue! I got big money coming,” Cade said. “They owe me, goddamn it, they owe me!”

“It isn't going to happen that way,” Louis said.

Cade's jaw was clenched. And his fist was too. Louis could see it in the blue light. He braced for Cade's swing, but then, suddenly, Cade seemed to go limp, almost swaying on his feet.

“You're right,” he said, shaking his head. “It ain't gonna happen. I knew it. I always knew it. That's why I shot the fucker.”

He was talking about Duvall. “You knew about the statute of limitations, didn't you? You knew you couldn't sue?” Louis said.

“Not until he told me that day I went to see him,” Cade said. “He told me I would never get a dime.”

Cade cocked his head at Louis. “And then you know what he says to me? That cocksucker lawyer was just sitting there behind his big desk, sitting there looking up at me, and you know what he
says?
‘I'm sorry this had to happen to you.' ”

The blue light flickered over Cade's face. “That's why I went back and shot him. If I wasn't gonna get money, I was gonna get some justice.”

A splash of headlights on the trees made Louis look out toward the dark road. But it wasn't Ronnie's truck. Louis looked back at Cade.

“Make a decision, Cade,” Louis said.

Cade had been staring at the ground. When he looked up at Louis, his face was slack. “How much money?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“Twenty-five . . . for twenty years,” he said quietly.

“That and your freedom.”

Cade stood there for a moment, his eyes taking in the dark grounds and the decrepit trailer. “So I go free and that cocksucker lawyer does my time?” A slow smile tipped Cade's lips. “I like your style, Louie.”

“You going or not?”

“I'll go tomorrow.”

“You go tonight, before Ronnie gets back.”

Cade shook his head sharply. “Fuck that. I'll go when I'm ready.”

“You'll go tonight. Right now. Go get whatever you need and get out. Now.”

Louis could see Cade's muscles tense. Louis braced himself again. But then Cade's eyes drifted down to the gym bag under Louis's arm.

He turned and went back into the trailer. Louis waited, watching the dark road, hoping Ronnie didn't come back. When Cade came out, he was dressed and carrying a small canvas bag and a jacket.

Cade held out his hand. Louis tossed him the bag. Cade caught it against his chest. He unzipped it, poked inside, and zipped it back up.

“It's there,” Louis said. “Start walking.”

Cade slung the bag over his shoulder. “See you around, Louie.”

Cade started walking. Louis watched him turn down Mantanzas Trail and disappear into the darkness.

He was sitting on the ground, under a gumbo limbo tree, a few feet from his front porch. He was digging a small hole, scooping out the cool sand with his hand.

It was one of those perfect Florida days he had come to appreciate. Sun-drenched but humidity free, a fine, tangy breeze blowing in from the gulf. He could have given himself over to it, lost himself in the feel of the sun on his neck and the rush of the waves breaking on the beach, but his head was too full of things.

When he thought the hole was deep enough, he reached back for the Tokarev.

It was still wrapped in Jack Cade's clear plastic bag. Louis picked up a second plastic bag, a thick-ply evidence bag. He placed the gun inside, then added an envelope. Inside, was a letter, explaining everything.

He put the bag in the hole and started pushing back the sand. He took his time, hoping that maybe he would begin to feel as if he was burying more than just the gun, but it didn't come.

“Louis?”

He turned to see Susan standing by the side of his cottage. She was wearing a blue cotton dress that swirled with the breeze. She looked different. Brighter, softer. He had to squint to look up at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Just burying something.”

“Good God. Did your cat die?”

“What? No, no.”

Benjamin ran up next to her. “Can I go swimming?” he asked.

“Not in your shorts,” Susan said. “Don't go in the water and stay where I can see you.”

Benjamin ran off. Susan was still looking at the fresh mound of sand.

“What are you doing out here, Susan?” he asked, standing up and dusting the sand off his hands.

“I came to ask you about something.”

Louis nodded toward the porch and they went to sit down on a step. Susan was looking out at the beach, keeping an eye on Benjamin, who was playing tag with the waves. She hiked her billowing skirt up over her knees and slipped off her sandals, digging her toes in the sand.

“I went out to the Cade place yesterday,” she said. “Ronnie told me Jack ran off. Did you know about this?”

Louis stared off at the water, watching Benjamin play.

“No.”

“He didn't tell me either,” Susan said. “But then Ronnie told me Cade left them twenty-five thousand dollars. They found it in Eric's bedroom, in a dresser drawer. Funny, isn't it? A man like Jack Cade having any money, let alone leaving it to Ronnie and Eric. Where do you think he got it?”

Louis drew up his knees.

Susan reached into her bag. “Ronnie asked me to give you this,” she said, handing Louis an envelope.

Louis took it and looked inside. There were five hundred dollar bills inside.

“I don't need this,” he said.

Susan pushed the envelope back. “He needs you to have it. It makes things right for him.”

Louis closed the envelope. “How'd Eric seem?” he asked.

Susan shrugged. “He was fine. He was talking about getting a Nintendo.”

“Did he seem happy?”

“Yes. Seemed like a different kid,” Susan said.

He could see Benjamin picking up shells. Maybe Eric had a chance now. Maybe he could somehow rediscover the hope and innocence kids should have, the things Benjamin had.

“Susan,” Louis said suddenly. “You've done a good job with Benjamin.”

She seemed surprised at his comment. “Well, thank you, but sometimes I don't think I do enough. It's hard being alone.”

He looked at her profile. She was staring off toward the beach.

“You don't have to be alone all the time,” he said. “You could bring him back here. I mean, any time he wants to come.”

She looked at him quickly, then away just as quickly, blinking. He knew she understood what he meant. Not just to come back and let Benjamin play in the water, but for her to come back and spend time with him.

“Maybe,” she said.

Louis didn't press it. They fell quiet, watching Benjamin.

“Oh, I saw something posted in the courthouse the other day that might interest you,” she said.

“What?”

“Fort Myers is hiring three officers next month.”

Louis turned away, looking out at the gulf.

“Are you going to apply?”

Louis shook his head.

“I thought you liked Chief Horton. I heard he likes you too.”

Louis was thinking about Ellie Silvestri. He had gone to her office yesterday, to tell her about Spencer Duvall. He had tried to make Duvall sound misguided, but wasn't sure she had bought it. She had taken him back into Duvall's office and shown him one of the pictures on the wall. He had noticed it the first time; it was the picture of the Victorian beachfront cottage among the photographs of old Fort Myers. Ellie told him it was a real place, in a town up in the panhandle called Seaside. It was a new development, a fabrication of an idyllic twenties village, complete with a bandshell in the town circle and rockers on the pastel porches. The motto of the place was “Remembering how nice the world can be.” Duvall had planned to divorce Candace, leave her everything and move to Seaside, Ellie told him. He wanted to open a small law practice and start over.

But Spencer couldn't go back, not after what he had done. No more than he himself could.

“Louis?”

He looked at Susan. “I think I'll wait,” he said.

“But why? I thought you hated this PI stuff.”

Louis shrugged. “You get used to it.”

They fell quiet, watching Benjamin chase the gulls.

“Do you think they'll get a conviction on Scott?”

“If they don't,” Louis said, “it was all for nothing.”

She was looking at him, hearing the hollow sound in his voice. “The system
worked
this time, Louis.”

He didn't comment. She sighed and picked up a shell. He saw her looking at the mound in the sand.

“Louis, what did you bury?” she asked.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. He opened Ronnie's envelope, pulled out one bill and held it out to her.

She looked at it. “What?”

“Just take it.”

She accepted it. “Why?”

“I want to hire you as my attorney.”

“What for?”

“I don't know yet. It's a retainer.”

She eyed him, then looked down at the bill.

“Am I now your client?” he asked.

“I don't know how much a hundred bucks will get you, but yes, you're my client.”

Louis nodded.

She looked back at the sand. “Now are you going to tell me what you buried?”

“I didn't bury anything.”

“But you told me you buried something.”

He looked at her. “And what I told you is now privileged.”

She stared at him, then turned away. “Technically, you told me before you hired me, but I can get around that.”

“I thought you could.”

“Do I
want
to know what you buried?”

He shook his head.

Benjamin came running up, his shorts and sneakers wet.

“Ma, this is so cool,” he said. “There's a really cool dead fish out there, and some seaweed. And look what I caught!” He held out a shell. There was a tiny crab in it. “Can I take him home?”

“No, Ben.”

“Aw, why not? Please, Ma, please?”

“No, now go put it back.”

He plopped down on the sand at her feet. “But you said I could maybe get a fish tank. I could keep the crab in it. Can I, Ma?”

“We need to buy a tank first. You can come back and get another one,” Susan said.

Louis glanced at her.
Come back?

She saw his expression and quickly looked away. She slipped the hundred dollar bill in her pocket and rose.

“So, show me this really cool dead fish,” she said.

Ben scrambled to his feet and took Susan's hand. He looked back at Louis.

“You coming?” Ben asked.

Louis hesitated, then got to his feet, dusting the sand off his hands. “I guess I am,” he said.