Redemption (14 page)

“
And,” Autumn said, “you’d like them buried together at Fairlawn.”

Creed smiled. “That’d be right nice, but I ain’t got no money for Fairlawn.”

Very few people do,
Overton thought
. Fairlawn is more a country club than a cemetery.
“It’s okay, Creed,” Overton said. “We’ll work something out, maybe even with Mr. Daniels here.”

Daniels flipped open a legal pad. “That would be acceptable.”

It would?
“Might run ten, twenty thousand,” Overton said. “Maybe more.”

Daniels scribbled the figures down. “Send the bills to my office.” He withdrew a business card from his briefcase and handed it to Overton. “Spare no expense. Anything else?”

“
No,” Overton said, standing somewhat unsteadily. “That’s all we came for.” He reached for Creed’s hand and took it, staring hard at the man’s watery eyes. “We’re sorry for your losses, Creed.”

“
Yep,” Creed said, his grip strengthening. “My losses. I’m sorry, too.”

Overton released Creed’s hand. “I understand.”

“
Thanks for comin’, and don’t be a stranger, Miles,” Creed said. “You, too, Miss Harper.”

“
Good-bye, Creed,” Autumn said.

“
I’ll come back by the next time I’m in town,” Overton said.

“
I’d like that,” Creed said. “I’d like that a lot.”

“
You stay safe, hear?” Overton said.

Creed nodded, his eyes finally dry. “I’ll try.”

“
Aren’t you going to do something?” Autumn asked once they had reached her car.

“
Do what? That man is tormented by what he did. He’s been dying to tell the world for fifteen years. You saw how it just spilled out of him. What good would it do to set the world against him now?”

Autumn started the car. “Well, for one, I’d have the exclusive of a lifetime. It’s practically Pulitzer material. Solving a fifteen-year-old crime is
huge
news.”

“
To what end? The kid got a better life, right? Didn’t he end up with a minister?”

“
Yeah, a white minister who didn’t know he was adopting a
black
baby.”

“
We don’t know that for sure. Maybe he knew of the baby’s real origins. And anyway,
I
was raised by a white minister. Didn’t do me too much harm.”

“
But the pay-offs, Sheriff. Annie, Darcy, and Creed got paid off to dump a helpless baby at a cemetery on a cold March night. Then they got paid off for fifteen years to keep quiet about it. And Daniels is paying for the funeral like twenty grand was nothing to him. Who’s paying Daniels?”

“
Probably Jimmy Lee.”

“
Junior or Senior?”

A good question.
“Hell, I don’t know. Probably both. Maybe Creed is another one of Jimmy Lee’s debts. Come on. Let’s get to the junkyard.”

“
From the jail yard to the junkyard.”

Overton reclined in his seat. “Surprisingly similar establishments.”

18

The phone buzzed in Jimmy Lee’s Lexus as he drove into his driveway. He pressed a button on the dash. “Hello, Jimmy Lee Sellers speaking.”

“
Mr. Sellers, this is Detective Pat Price with the NYPD. Did you know a Margaret Ledbetter?”

Jimmy Lee’s stomach roiled, and he almost drove off the driveway into the azaleas.

“
Mr. Sellers?”

“
I’m, uh, I’m in some heavy traffic right now.” He slowed to a stop in front of the garage and gripped the steering wheel to keep his hands still. “Yes, I know Margaret. Is everything all right?”

“
Are you and Ms. Ledbetter related?”

Jimmy Lee rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “No. We were engaged once.”
That was another mistake
. “What happened to her?”

“
I’m not at liberty to say at this time. Did Ms. Ledbetter call you today?”

“
No.”
Why would she call me? It’s been at least five years since we’ve spoken.

“
Your name and number were on her Rolodex, and we can check if she made the call.”

“
She
didn’t
call me.”
New Yorkers are pricks.
“I haven’t spoken to Margaret Ledbetter in five or six years. What happened to her?”

“
Thank you for your time, Mr. Sellers.”

“
Please tell me what happened!” He bounced his fist off the steering wheel after the click.

Is Margaret dead, too?

The phone buzzed again. “Hello?”

“
Jimmy Lee, we’re in trouble.”

“
No shit. What is it this time?”

“
Mags is dead.”

Oh shitshitshitshit.
“How did she, um, how did she die?”

“
They had her on CNN. She jumped from her office window, Jimmy Lee! She jumped and fell
forty-four
stories. You gonna tell me you had nothin’ to do with that, after Darcy, Annie, and Lester?”

She jumped? No way Mags would jump. She was too into herself to go out like that. Someone pushed her.
“I swear I had nothin’ to do with it.”
But in a way,
he thought,
I had everything to do with it.

19

Overton and Autumn parked in a gravel lot in front of Stabler’s Auto Yard, a hand-made sign announcing: “If We Ain’t Got It, You Don’t Need It.”

“
What’s the plan?” Autumn asked.

“
We’ll skip the office.”

“
Why?”

“
Never go in the front door when you’re trying to scare up information.” He pointed at the open gate. “We’ll let someone find us.”

They wandered through the dusty car graveyard for ten minutes before a lanky man with a ponytail and greasy overalls approached.

“
We have company,” Autumn whispered.

“
That we do,” Overton said.

“
Anything I can help you—” He stopped ten feet from them, a myriad of prison tattoos on his arms. “What’s a Pine County sheriff doin’ up here?”

“
Howdy,” Overton said, and he flashed the smile he saved for election day. “Pretty damn hot today, ain’t it?”

“
I don’t got to tell you shit, you know. You’re out of your jurisdiction.”

Overton smiled.
Here’s a man who is no stranger to the justice system. Nice tats.
“Just looking for a little expert help on hoses. You an expert on hoses?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “This ain’t about that pink Cadillac?”

Of course it is,
Overton thought,
but I needed you to bring it up.
“No.”

“
Oh.”

The old bait and switch is now in effect.
“What can you tell me about hoses, heat, and dry-rot?”

The man stepped closer. “Buddy, I can tell you a bunch.” He waved his hands in the general direction of the yard. “Every last one of these vehicles got a dry-rotted somethin’-or-other. Tires, belts, hoses, even a bumper or two.”

No shit.
“How long do you think it would take a fairly new belt, say a fan belt, to dry-rot in a car used every day?”

“
Shouldn’t get dry-rotted at all if the car’s properly maintained.”

“
No matter how hot it is?”

“
Ain’t the heat no ways,” the man said. “It’s the humidity.”

I think I’ll give you one more ego boost.
“What are the chances that all the major belts and hoses on a car would fail at the same time?”

“
I’d say it’s next to impossible. You’d have to be the unluckiest son-of-a-bitch on planet Earth.” He smiled showing several greening teeth.

Overton looked at Autumn. “Ready to go?”

Autumn blinked.

“
I owe you lunch, remember?” Overton asked.

The man sidled closer. “Are you, uh, sure that’s all you want to know?”

“
Yep,” Overton said. “Thanks for your help, uh ... I didn’t catch your name.” He extended his hand.

“
It’s Robbie.”

They shook.

“
Are y’all sure you don’t want to know about that Cadillac?” Robbie asked.

Overton shrugged. “I know everything I need to know. Come on, Miss Harper. Let’s get out of this heat.” They started walking toward the front gate.

“
Wait,” Robbie said.

Overton turned. “Yes?”

“
You know where it used to be parked?”

“
What does that matter?” Overton asked. “I’ve got all the information I need on that pink Cadillac.”

Robbie motioned with a badly burned hand, one finger completely gone. “You can’t know everything. Come on. I’ll show you where it used to be.”

Overton let Robbie get fifty feet ahead of them before whispering, “Think I’d look good in a pony-tail?”

“
You don’t have enough hair,” she said.

They caught up to Robbie, who stood in a space between a crumpled Ford Granada and a rusted Chevy station wagon. “Used to sit here. Had a few people interested in it over the years but no takers. Even had this kid walk over from one of the neighborhoods around here and play in it, actin’ like he was drivin’ it. Little shaver musta thought he was Richard Petty or somethin’.”

“
Did he?” Overton remarked brightly.

“
We even called him R. P. Junior. Nothin’ worked, you understand, but that boy would be in there honkin’ the horn, turnin’ the wheel, racin’ like he was at Daytona. But that was years ago. He was the littlest shaver, but out of all the cars you see, he’d only get in the Caddy. I mean, one day, I even tried to get him into this Ford truck, see, and—”

Enough of this history lesson.
“So, Robbie, it just disappeared from here?”

Robbie looked in the direction of the office. “Yep.” He lowered his voice. “A hundred bucks can make anything disappear from this place, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Overton slipped Robbie a twenty. “What else can you tell me that I didn’t hear from you?”

Robbie smiled and lifted the hood of the station wagon. “Just in case the boss comes by.” He waved a few cobwebs away. “It happened last winter. Right before close. Cold night. Rainin’ to beat the band. Black guy. He towed it out of here, flat tires and all, with some rusty chains and an ugly Buick Skylark that didn’t look much better than that Granada over there.”

A black guy,
Overton thought.
Another person to find.
“No questions asked?”

“
Money talks,” Robbie said. “Tony—he’s the boss—he gave me half.”

“
Ever see him or the car again?” Overton asked.

“
Nope.”

“
What did he look like?” Overton asked.

Robbie looked at his fingernails. “Black as the grease under my nails. Wore a cap over a hooded sweatshirt. Jeans. Boots. Couldn’t see his eyes.”

Because he didn’t want you to be able to identify him.
“Any facial hair, scars, tattoos?”

“
Like I said, it was dark, and this guy was darker.”

And all you were looking at, Robbie, was the money.

“
How’d he talk?” Autumn asked.

“
In English,” Robbie said.

“
I meant,” Autumn said, “did he have an accent? Did he sound like he was from around here?”

Robbie toyed with the radiator cap. “He didn’t say much, at least to me. Said most of what he had to say to Tony. Then he paid, hooked it up, and left.”