The Sassy Belles (9 page)

With that all behind him, Lewis went on to become one of the
most recognized voices in sports radio. That’s the funny thing about being in
the media—sometimes a prison stint makes you even more interesting!

Over the last few years, Lewis made his and his mother’s money
back with book deals and appearances. Bit by bit he worked himself out of the
red, and without any help from Harry. I don’t think Lewis ever forgave Harry for
treating him the way he did. Truthfully, I’m not sure it ever really mattered to
Harry.

When their mother, Julia, died two years ago, Harry had stayed
around after the service to watch Julia’s casket descend into the muddy Southern
earth. I left him down near the gravesite alone to say goodbye to his beloved
mother. He was always her favorite and he knew it. But Julia’s constant doting
on her favorite eldest son put responsibilities on Harry that otherwise wouldn’t
have been there. Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. The Heart
legacy, the Heart name, was his and his alone to propel into eternity, for the
world to know and respect.

Much of the family, Julia included, had already written Lewis
off as an unredeemable philanderer. Booze, gambling and women all seemed to
gravitate in Lewis’s direction. It was Harry that everyone depended upon,
counted upon. And as in every aspect of his life, Harry would have to be
perfect. He expected it of himself more than anyone else did. Eventually the
perfection he insisted upon became unbearable for, well, both of us. I’d come to
realize that there were only two things Harry really cared about: his career and
his mother. His drive for perfection didn’t seem to exist when it came to
romance and marriage. Lately, it seemed as though these things were only an
afterthought for Harry, if he had ever really considered them at all.

The day they buried Julia, I could see that Harry felt guilty.
Guilty that he hadn’t done more, guilty that he hadn’t been able to save her
like he always had, guilty that she never understood the whole story of why
Lewis left the family. Harry had protected her from the God-awful truth. Now
that she was gone, I think he was also partly ashamed for never forgiving
Lewis.

When Harry was saying his last words to her, just before they
began to crank the casket down, he looked up to remove his glasses, dabbing his
eyes, and he caught Lewis in his peripheral vision. A starched white shirt, dark
crimson tie and khakis—Lewis’s work uniform. He had obviously just left the
pre-season show on campus. That Bama crimson is what caught Harry’s eye. He
hadn’t laid eyes on Lewis in person for over four years, and the sight of him
clearly took his breath away. He was caught. I could see the emotions warring
within him as I watched him try to decide how to react. The Heart Book of
Emotional Rules clearly states, “Hold a grudge with a white-knuckle
grip—especially if it is against a family member.”

Yet the sensible, responsible Harry decided to make an
amendment to the rule.
Unless the person begrudged needs to
say goodbye to his dead mother.
Harry himself would not break the
rules. No, he was too “Heart” for that. As Lewis approached from across the
rain-soaked cemetery, Harry kissed his first two fingers and gently touched the
coffin, and then turned away. He did not speak to Lewis or even motion a wave or
an acknowledgment. He just turned and walked away. He had allowed Lewis to
approach, and that amendment to the “Rules” was enough. While I’m sure he’d
never admit it, I could tell that part of him wanted to scream at Lewis for not
being a better son, a better brother, a better anything. But another part of
him, I knew, wanted to grab him and hold him. He was, after all, the only family
Harry had left now. But he did neither. Instead, he made his way up the hill to
me.

That’s the same Harry I saw in the police station as we looked
at the muddy clothes strewn out upon the desk. A Harry needing to speak, but
unable to utter a sound.

“Well, Miss Vivi,” Sonny pushed.

Vivi sucked in a deep breath, and I slipped my hand in hers as
she began to nod.

“Yes, Sonny, that’s probably what Lewis was wearing. I believe
those are his clothes.”

“Thank you, Miss McFadden. That’s all we need for now.”

Sonny was matter-of-fact. He glanced over at me and then at
Harry. “We’ll be in touch.” He handed the soggy bag back to Officer Dooley and
gave him a nod, cop-speak for, “You know what to do.”

Officer Dooley trotted off into the darkness of the long
hallway as the three of us turned to head back into the midmorning mist.

“Blake.” Sonny caught me. He cleared his throat. “Can I see you
a minute?”

I saw Harry glance back at us, but he only said, “Go ahead.
We’ll head to the car.”

I turned to Sonny. He looked concerned. “Blake, we need to
talk.”

I sat back down under the slow-moving fans and got comfortable.
I knew Sonny well enough to know that nothing with him only takes a minute.
Nothing. Sonny was slow and steady, much like Harry in that way. I guess that’s
always been my kind of man. A rock of a guy with a strong shoulder to lean on.
It balances my overly emotional side.

Sonny looked at me without blinking. His dark brown eyes were
speaking silent messages to me but I couldn’t quite make out the code.

“What is it?” I finally said.

“I was just thinking,” Sonny began. “Blake, as you know, we’re
still waiting to hear whether those body parts belonged to Lewis. Without that,
it’s still a missing person case.”

“I know.”

“Well, I am a little concerned about a couple things,” he
continued in his thick-as-molasses Southern lilt. “I’m worried ’bout Harry,
Blake. I saw him look at that bag of clothes.”

“Yes. So?” I said.

“C’mon, Blake, the guy missing is Harry’s brother. How’s he
gonna deal with that? You know? Separate the emotions from the job? I mean, hey,
I know you lawyer types can do all sorts of gymnastics in the courtroom, but
this might be one cartwheel too many.”

“What are you saying, Sonny?” I leaned forward and put my arm
on his desk. Sonny leaned in toward me, just inches from my face. I could feel
my face growing hotter by the second, though I knew this wasn’t the time or
place to be getting riled up. It’s just that I hadn’t been this close to him in
ages. I could smell his trademark peppermint gum, and his Stetson cologne
hanging in the air.

“What I’m saying, Blake,” he continued, “is that Vivi Ann
deserves a lawyer with a completely clear head. We’ve got a press conference in
less than two hours and someone has to speak to the press. Frankly, we both know
Vivi is a loose cannon, and I don’t think Harry’s up to it.”

That was Sonny. Just telling it like it is.

“Blake.” Sonny leaned even closer as if telling me a secret. “I
care about you. Your heart is showing on this one. Stop a minute and think about
what I’m sayin’. You need to make sure you get off on the right foot. No
missteppin’, you know? With Lewis being the star that he is, it’s a real muddy
case already. I know you know that. Someone will need to be the family
spokesperson for Lewis. Please don’t take offense. I’m just callin’ it like I
see it.”

Sonny had that protective, nurturing quality about him. That’s
the part I’d always loved. Well, that and just the pure physical chemistry that
had always been part of our story. I felt this passion whenever I was around
him…always simmering just under the surface. For both of us.

“Just who do you think should handle the press?” I asked.

“Well, honey, there’s only one Deep South debate champion and
University of Alabama speech and debate scholarship winner in this group. Seems
to me she’d be the perfect spin doctor for a prickly case such as this.
Sweetie,” he continued, “I’m looking at her.”

Something exciting bubbled up within me at his words. He’d
remembered my awards—something I was sure Harry had long forgotten. That easily
won Sonny a trillion points. He had me in the palm of his hand. I looked into
his eyes like I used to do when I wanted something. I knew how to handle him,
too.

“How do we take care of this? I’m not sure Harry’s going to
like this news. I mean, we both know he isn’t one to miss an opportunity to
speak to the public. And a case this big? That’s some serious exposure. Even if
it’s about Lewis, I’ve got a feeling Harry’s gonna be focused on what this could
mean for his career,” I explained.

“I know, honey, it puts you in a strange situation with
Harry.”

Does he want me in a strange situation
with Harry?
I wondered.

“Even so, we must have a lead counsel, and I don’t think it
should be him. I say you talk to him now and volunteer for the job. Tell him
you’re worried he may reach a point where he becomes less objective.”

“Sonny!” I said. “Harry would never compromise his legal
duties.”
Not even for family.

“Okay,” he said, backing off a bit. “Just think about what I’ve
said.” With that he reached over and slowly but deliberately laid his huge,
protective hand on top of mine and squeezed.

“I care about you, Blake. You know that never really went
away.” He slid his hand back. “Take care, now. I’ll see y’all in a couple hours
at the press conference. It’s at Denny Chimes. Remember, this isn’t going to be
your average press conference. Lewis’s fame will draw quite the crowd. We’ve
been getting calls at the station from the media all day. With Lewis missing,
every reporter from all of college football is gonna be swarming Tuscaloosa like
flies on manure. They want to know what happened to their star announcer and who
will be taking Lewis’s spot in the broadcast booth this season if he isn’t
coming back. We’re gonna leave that one to the Bama spokesperson. I’ll be
speaking, too, but we’re gonna try and keep this short and sweet. I need you to
prepare a statement from Vivi, but don’t let her anywhere near that microphone.
We don’t need a repeat of her storytelling from the Tutwiler. This is not the
time or place for her to deal with this kind of pressure—and with all the
attention and live cameras, I’m afraid her nerves will make her say something
that could hurt her case.”

I must have looked apprehensive because Sonny paused and said,
“You can do this, Blake. All of it. Now put that debate champion hat on and get
out there for those two people you love. I’ll be right there next to you.”

My heart was speeding and my palms were damp and I was ashamed
and excited all at the same time. He had this effect on me. I only had to be in
the vicinity of him and my heart would try to leap out of my chest. I took a
breath and turned toward the door.

Though I had been married for years, Sonny comforted me in a
way that was uniquely his own. And he made me feel so protected and secure, yet
strong and confident. He never cast his own shadow over me. I had an ally in
this whole mess in him. He still understood me and wanted to protect me. I was
filled with invincibility. And a little heated excitement.

As I stood, Sonny touched my shoulder and winked.

“How’s Laura these days?” I asked, needing to remind myself
that we were both off-limits.

“Fine, I guess,” he said. “I hear she’s fine.”

“What?” I asked. “Aren’t you still…?”

“Divorced,” he interrupted. “About a year now.”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” I said.
Was
I?

He began to walk me out. His hand was still on my shoulder.
“Blake, no poor woman can ever live up to you.” There was sarcasm in his voice,
but something in his eyes hinted at the truth.

As I made my way to the door, I turned to him. He looked at me
and winked again, leaned down and kissed my cheek. I stepped out onto the
sidewalk and noticed slivers of sun beginning to peek out from behind the
clouds. I felt guilty for feeling excited. I was still married. But it was very
clear to me now what was missing from my relationship with Harry. Attention,
passion, heat, emotion. Apparently the list was pretty long. I was shocked at
the clarity a simple touch from Sonny could bring. As I made my way to the car,
I realized I had a choice. I could act on the heat I felt between us, or I could
be my usual good-girl self and try to put the fire out. Somehow I knew my halo
didn’t quite fit anymore.

8

I
left the station and arrived at
the car, Vivi already strapped in. She had been crying and she looked shaken,
knowing the clothes she had just seen belonged to the love of her life. Things
did not look good.

Harry was on his cell. By the tone of his voice I could tell he
was talking to Dan Donohough, an old fraternity brother who was now Harry’s
campaign manager.

“Uh-huh. I know. I know. I won’t. Really, it’s not an issue.
Got it,” he said into the phone. I knew he was talking about Vivi and the
possible threat this case must be to Harry’s image. Image was, after all, the
very most important thing. Harry’s Senate run was approaching fast and nothing
would be allowed to tarnish the shimmery Heart image they had worked so hard to
create. Not Vivi, not even a possibly dead brother. Dan was Harry’s handler. And
it was his job to make sure Harry didn’t…well, step in it, so to speak.
Unfortunately for Dan, it seemed that Harry was pretty much surrounded by a
barnyard of
it,
nearly all the time. Harry always
meant well, and though we were having our problems, even I had to admit that he
was still one of the good guys deep down. Only lately, the good was buried a
little deeper than usual. The run for Senate was changing him.

Dan was great at his job. He was one of those political
hounds—supersmart on the inside but on the outside, well, let’s just say he’d
give James Carville a run for his money. Bald and loud and skinny, he’d tell it
like it is, even if you didn’t want to hear it. Harry needed him, depended on
him. They made a good team and I knew, our relationship aside, that Harry would
make a great senator. I felt confident he would always get my vote, whether or
not we stayed married forever. But
forever
suddenly
sounded like a really long time.

“You okay?” I asked Vivi as I got into the car.

“I’m so confused, Blake,” Vivi answered, her voice shaking. “I
have so many questions. In my heart, I just cannot believe Lewis is dead. I mean
I left him layin’ there. I swear I thought he was dead, but then where could he
have gone? Did somebody come in and take him? Dump him in the river? I just
don’t know if I can stand this. The truth is, I always act like he and I just
loved screwin’, you know? But, Blake, I loved him—
love
him.”

“I know, Vivi, I always knew that. And, honey, truth be told I
know he loved you, too, even if he was born with an overdose of testosterone.
You are the girl he has always loved. I know it.”

Vivi lost it right there, sobbing uncontrollably. After a few
minutes she stopped, inhaled deeply, wiped her nose and cheeks with the cuff of
her white cotton sleeve. A good and proper Southern girl would at least use a
tissue. Vivi was always good, but hardly ever proper. The big breath was
followed by silence. Vivi looked at me. Eyes bugged out, brows up high, she
announced, “Sonny thinks I did this, that I hurt Lewis, and threw him in the
river. Why? Why, for God’s sake?” It was all hitting her like Dorothy’s house
hit the Wicked Witch’s sister—all at once, laying her out flat with only her
shoes sticking out.

“Vivi, get hold of yourself!” I said. “That’s what we’re here
for. We’re gonna take care of you, and Sonny is just doing his job. I know him.
He knows you didn’t do this.”

I reached for her shoulder and brushed her tears from her
cheek. “Vivi,” I said, “you are good. A bit from the fruit and nuts department
of the store but still good, and everyone knows it. This whole town knows it and
some of them know you inside and out. It will be okay. There’s nothing the two
of us have ever faced that we didn’t conquer. We climb mountains together. We
have since the fourth grade.”

Vivi broke my serious monologue with a huge burst of laughter.
“Oh, my God! Sister Pauline! I’d almost forgot about that.” Now her sad tears
mixed with laughing tears and she couldn’t decide whether to start laughing or
keep crying. But it was a release, which she definitely needed, so I just let
her do both. It was a tremendous release for both of us.

* * *

I pulled right in behind Harry as we arrived at Denny
Chimes, the beautiful old bell tower right front and center of the University of
Alabama’s campus quad. When the bells ring, the harmony gives the campus a sound
all its own. The bells chime every fifteen minutes, so I knew this would need to
be a quick conference in between the musical melodies. The car rolled to a quiet
stop. I looked over at Vivi. She had pulled herself together. I, however, didn’t
feel quite so settled. My heart was thumping so hard and quick you could see my
chest jumping under my blouse. I couldn’t decide which was scarier, the thought
of being live on TV talking about my missing brother-in-law, or facing Harry and
telling him I’d be the one doing the talking.

“Honey, you can let go of the wheel now, we’re here,” Vivi said
with her eyebrows up.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” I glanced down at my white knuckles
glued to the wheel and tried to let go, but I needed to hold something, squeeze
something, and the wheel was what was in front of me.

Harry got out of his car looking nervous but confident as he
made his way over to me. I knew that walk. It was part of his game face. I kept
thinking,
I have to tell him.
As he walked toward me
I ran through the words in my head.

“Harry,”
I practiced,
“I think I should be the one speaking to the press.”
No, that wasn’t forceful enough. He’d run me over like a bulldozer.
“Harry, I’m going to do all the talking.”
But then
he’d say, “What else is new?” and laugh it off. I just couldn’t find the right
words. For once I was speechless. That had to be a first.

“Blake,” Harry interrupted my private drama. “Didn’t you hear
me, honey?”

“No, sorry. Just thinking,” I said.

“Well, we’re here. Let go of the wheel.”

“I was just thinking,” I continued, “you know, about Vivi and
this conference. I, uh…”

“Yes,” Harry interrupted again. “Let’s talk about this for a
minute.”

He helped me out of the car. Even in my heels, he was nearly a
foot taller. At five-four in my best daytime pumps, Harry always towered over
me. I knew he would be a much more commanding presence on camera than I would. I
began doubting Sonny’s idea. Camera time is so important to a man with his
aspirations and obviously it would be very appealing to him. A good lawyer and
future politician lived for that kind of thing, so I knew Harry would really
want this moment. Plus, the missing guy was his brother! Who better to talk to
the press than a direct family member?
Yes, Blake,
I
said to myself,
the missing guy is his brother and that’s
exactly why he can’t do it! Because he’s not just the victim’s brother—he’s
Vivi’s lawyer. That would be sending mixed signals, not taking a clear
stand. For a politician, that is not a good career move! You can’t be seen
as the wavering type, Harry. How would that look to the people? Yes! That’s
it!
That’s what I would tell him.

“Blake.” Harry grabbed my shoulders. “What’s the matter with
you today? Listen, I really need you to get it together. I think you should be
the one to talk to the media.”

Hang on. What did he just say?
You’ll have to wait on my response, Harry. I’m busy
swallowing my tongue.

“Oh, honey, are you sure?” I said, batting my eyelashes and
looking all concerned. I needed an Oscar. I couldn’t believe how easily this had
played out. I didn’t even need to say a word.

“You’re a great speaker, Blake. I’m not feeling quite up to it
at the moment. I’ll be glad to take over if you need it, but I have a feeling
you won’t need it today.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed, thanking God and all His angels.

“Yeah, you take care of it.”

I reached back through the open window of the car and gave
Vivi’s hand a squeeze. I felt in that single second the world was mine. I knew I
could make it so that by the time I was through, Vivi and Lewis would look like
the Pope and Mother Teresa. Well, maybe that was taking it too far. At least I
could try to help them not look like two horny idiots screwing each other to
death….

Okay,
I thought,
time to get the pumps on the concrete. Put the “I mean
business” red lipstick on, get behind the mic and take care of Vivi.
I winked at her and we walked toward the Chimes. Looking over at Harry, I
realized that Dan must’ve had something to do with this. Harry wasn’t just being
nice to me. And he wasn’t stepping down because of his feelings about Lewis,
either. No, this was all motivated by his perfect little campaign. There was
always his image to consider, above all else. Harry was distancing himself from
the media today all because of Vivi. I was sure Dan convinced him to stay away
from the microphone. None of this would be good for the campaign. Harry speaking
for Vivi as attorney or even friend would not help the business of the fall
election—she was a loudmouthed, frizzy-haired, wild one who may or may not be
involved in a crime. He couldn’t avoid being seen with her on camera, but Dan
would definitely have advised against him speaking for her. I was a little
disappointed when I realized Harry backing away from the mic was really for
himself and not because he really believed in me.

But it was no surprise that Dan was involved. Dan and Harry go
way back. In college, Harry was always running for something—fraternity
president, student senate, student body president. His ambition and perfection
were major attractions for me. I just loved those power suits and the yummy man
inside them. I loved his desire and determination, his goals and his drive.
Plus, he was deliciously gorgeous.

When Harry was running for student body president during our
senior year, Dan was his campaign manager. The opponent was a sleaze and stupid
on top of that but another gorgeous frat boy just the same. As part of his
campaign, Billy Cane handed out rocks. Yes, I said rocks. He sent some fool
pledge down to the river to gather hundreds of rocks, about the size of your
hand, and painted on them, Vote for Billy Cane, solid as a rock. He handed them
out all over campus. Not to be outdone, Dan came up with a campaign strategy for
Harry, too. They found as many of those Billy Cane rocks as possible, then,
working alongside the pledges, sorority sisters and fraternity brothers alike,
we had reworded the slogan to read, Vote for Billy Cane, DUMB as a rock. It
wasn’t very nice, but it sure was effective. Billy was a laughingstock, and
Harry was voted president. Even today, Dan was at Harry’s side for all his
campaign needs—and I had a feeling his “approach” hadn’t changed a bit.

Harry and I stood at the back of the press area for a minute
and hashed out our strategy. We were always good partners when it came to our
work. I could predict his behavior, even better than he could predict mine.

“Blake, listen,” Harry began. “I know you can handle this all
by yourself today.”

“Harry,” I interrupted, “stop. I’m fine. I know what to say.
The gist of things is that we support Vivi, we know she is innocent of any
questionable events. She is a very good friend to Lewis and nothing more. And we
are doing everything in our power to find Lewis and get him home safely.”

“You do know how to spin it, Blake. Thanks.” Harry looked
relieved and I caught him looking over his shoulder at Dan and giving him a
wink.

“Harry,” I continued. “The sports media is here and I know we
will need to take questions from them about the upcoming season. What do you
think should be the spin there?” I wanted him to be in the moment, here with me,
and not on the campaign trail…just for a second.

“Uh, hmm, well, say that we believe Lewis will be there right
in the broadcast booth where he belongs,” he said.

The quad was covered with media. The satellite trucks were set
up along University Boulevard for a mile. The president’s mansion across the
street even allowed parking in the driveway to help with the traffic flow.
Camera equipment and cables and boom mics were everywhere. Reporters were
setting up with microphones being attached to the podium, now right in front of
the chimes.

The quad at the University of Alabama is a huge field of green
grass covered in winding lighted paths and a forest of trees. It’s like a park,
breezy and serene, though it is covered in students most of the year. The
atmosphere felt a little different today with all the press buzzing around.
Directly behind Denny Chimes is the famous old Amelia Gayle Gorgas Library, a
Greek Revival building with a huge sweeping front porch and eight sturdy columns
across the top of the front steps. The reporters were swarming clear across the
quad from the chimes to the library steps. Loudspeakers were set up along the
base of the chimes so our voices could be heard by the multitude of journalists.
The anxiety was palpable as Harry and I approached Sonny and Vivi, who were
already on the steps of the chimes.

“You ready?” Sonny asked, knowing I was but looking down at me
with that curled-up smile that let me know he knew I was fine and in control. He
had no anxiety at all on his face and that relaxed me. Just what I needed as we
began. I looked at Vivi and smiled a confident smile and nodded my head to her
as Sonny stepped up to the crowd of reporters.

The press pushed their mics forward. Sonny began. The cameras
rolled. Harry and I stood stoic, aware that we must at all times project
confidence in our client. But when your client is the redheaded town wild woman,
well, Harry and I were going to need Academy Awards for this performance. Vivi
stood between us wearing those giant Jackie O. sunglasses and a fashionable
spring duster in lime and turquoise billowing in the gardenia-scented air.

This was a big story that would become huge before it ever
ended, and Lewis was the reason. His bad-boy lifestyle was followed with
intrigue and excitement by fans far and wide. He was Tuscaloosa’s own slice of
celebrity and definitely a publicity hound—a hand-shakin’, back-slappin’, good
ol’ boy, but of the upper class. His voice had become synonymous with Alabama
football. His face often appeared on the society pages as well as the sports
page, usually with an expensive stogie in one hand and a two-olive martini in
the other and he was almost always standing next to a cleavage-baring
socialite.