Redemption (29 page)

He stopped writing.
Isaiah went to New Jersey about the same time. My God, Daniel’s been hanging out with his uncle!
He added Isaiah to the list:

Is this when and where Callie made her hit-list? Maybe this was the first time she saw how far the Senator had gone and how many people he had paid off to cover up the killing of her son.

“
Now who
could
have killed whom?” he asked. He made another list:

He stared at his list.
Jimmy Lee could have had a hand in all of them or none of them. Callie, too, except for her mama and nephew. Does Callie expect me to blame it
all
on Jimmy Lee? It’s circumstantial, but a jury might buy it. And since the Sellers are Southern aristocracy, the average, working jury member would
want
to buy it.

He broke his list down further:

Shit. I wish this was as simple as white killing black and black killing white, but ...

He made one more list:

Jesus, Ramsey could be working for
both
sides!

He held his breath.

But where does that put me? I’m at Darcy’s when Annie gets run down. I’m at Callie’s when Lester dies. I’m in Snow when Margaret dies in New York. I’m watching out for Sharese when Michael dies. Ramsey could have let Jimmy Lee or even Callie know where I was and wasn’t at any given time. Damn! I’m never at the scene! I’m just following the bodies!

But who’s next?

Who’s left?

He circled Romelo’s and Ramsey’s names on all his lists realizing that both sides would want each dead as soon as possible, while he needed them for their testimonies.

He turned to the radio he rarely used and keyed the mike. “Ramsey, come in, over.”

“
Ramsey here. That you, Sheriff?”

Well at least the fat shit’s still alive.
“Where are you?”

“
Workin’. You want me to come in?”

“
Yeah. It’s getting dark. Call it a day.”

“
Sure will—whoa! A Jag just flew by doin’ ninety at least! I’ll get him and come in. Ramsey out.”

One down.
He called directory assistance for Romelo Dudley’s number and found that he wasn’t listed. “Try Romelo Willis.”

“
None listed, sir.”

“
How about ... Romelo Poindexter?”

“
None listed. Are you sure he’s a Calhoun resident?”

“
Wait—try Curtis Daniels.”

After a pause, the operator said, “I have several listings.”

Mr. Daniels is everywhere.
“Is there a listing for Curtis Daniels on Twenty-second?”

“
Yes.”

“
Could you dial it for me?”

“
Dialing.”

Overton knew he needed to speak to Curtis Daniels eventually, though he knew it would be a dead end.
Lawyer-client privilege to his rescue.

“
What?” a voice said at the other end.

“
I need to speak to Romelo.”

“
Who dis?”

“
Sheriff Miles Overton. He called me ‘Andy’ today, and—”

“
Romelo out.”

“
I know he’s there. It’s important that I speak to him.”

“
No man, really. He out. Cruisin’ with his homies.”

Overton didn’t ask how.

“
Yo, I’ll give him the message.”

Overton starred Romelo’s name on a list. “Just tell him to watch his back.”

“
Shit. ‘Melo can’t even move his back, but I’ll tell him. What you care about ‘Melo for anyway?”

“
I think the man who shot him might try to finish the job. Soon.”

“
Daa-em.”

“
Just make sure y’all keep him safe, okay?”

The boy laughed. “That’s what we here for, man. Brother can’t do shit without us. Later.”

He hung up and stared at the papers in front of him.

So, is Ramsey chasing a speeder?

Or is he out erasing another part of Jimmy Lee’s past?

44

He just called Romelo’s. Wants us to watch his back. Man didn’t even know it was me.

What you doin’ answerin’ the damn phone?

It’s borin’ as shit here. All they do is drink, puff, and play stupid-ass video games.

Don’t answer it again.

I won’t. But ain’t him callin’ Romelo a good sign?

Maybe.

He ain’t called you yet?

No, but I don’t think he will. He’ll talk to me, but not on the phone. He’ll want us to talk face-to-face.

Uncle Isaiah gonna be there, right?

No. He’s busy.

I don’t like you bein’ alone like that.

I’ll be all right. It’ll just be me and him. This has been comin’ for fifteen years, and I’m almost relieved the day has arrived.

Relieved?

I said almost. What has been, has been; what is, is; and what will be, will be. Stay out of sight.

Tired of that.

I know. Not much longer. The wait is almost over.

4
5

Ramsey should be here by now.

Overton toyed with the phone cord again.
I can’t just call her. You don’t just call a person you’ve loved for fifteen years with something like this though I’m sure some people would. I’ll have to see her, read her like she reads me, and try to keep my distance.

He shook his head.
It won’t matter. I’ll get closer and closer, she’ll smile, cut her eyes from me to the stairs ... Damn, that woman can be so persuasive without even saying a word.

The phone rang, startling him. “This is Sheriff Overton.”

“
Overton, Poole here. Got a call at my
house,
if you can believe it, from a motorist on a cell phone. Somethin’ about a police car in a ditch at the One-fifteen turnoff. My three are accounted for.”

Ramsey. Oh shit. Already?
“Um, mine, too. Probably a hoax, but I’ll check it out.”

For what good it will do.

He thought Ramsey was dead the second he hung up the phone and now drove a dead man’s truck to the scene.

Loose ends end quickly.

He found the Crown Vic jutting out of a culvert, its lights still flashing, its front end crushed. He parked on the shoulder, slid down the hill, and looked inside. He had expected blood and carnage but saw no signs of either—and no sign of Ramsey. The doors were locked, the windows up, the keys inside. He used the keys on Ramsey’s key ring to unlock the door and immediately smelled his deputy’s sweat.

Not a single drop of blood, though the seat’s wet. Fat slob even sweated with the AC on.

He walked around the car and gradually opened the trunk.
No dead body, and nothing out of place.
He used the car’s radio to call for a wrecker and climbed back up to the Bronco.