The Client (47 page)

“Stay by the phone. Do not leave this place, okay. I’ll call you later.” She grabbed his keys, cash, and two credit cards—Visa and Texaco.

He followed her to the door. “Take it easy with the Visa. It’s almost to the limit.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Clint. Take care of Momma Love.”

“Call me,” he said, thoroughly defeated.

She eased through the door and disappeared in the darkness.

     33     

FROM THE MOMENT MARK JUMPED INTO THE CAR AND HID on the floor, Reggie became an accomplice to his escape. But, unless he murdered someone before they were caught, it was doubtful her crime would be punishable by incarceration. She was thinking more along the lines of community service, perhaps a bit of restitution, and forty years of probation. Hell, she’d give them all the probation they wanted. It would be her first offense. She, and her lawyer, could make a strong argument that the kid was being hunted by the Mafia, and he was all alone, and, well, dammit, somebody had to do something! She couldn’t worry about legal niceties when her client was out there begging for help. Maybe she could pull strings and keep her license to practice.

She paid the parking guard fifty cents, and refused eye contact. She had circled through the lot one time. The guard was in another world. Mark was rolled into a tight coil somewhere in the darkness under the dashboard, and he remained there until she turned on Union and headed for the river.

“Is it safe now?” he asked nervously.

“I think so.”

He sprang into the seat, and surveyed the landscape. The digital clock gave the time as twelve-fifty. The six lanes of Union Avenue were deserted. She drove three blocks, catching red lights at each one, while waiting for Mark to speak.

“So where are we going?” she finally asked.

“The Alamo.”

“The Alamo?” she repeated without a trace of a smile.

He shook his head. Adults could be so dumb at times. “It’s a joke, Reggie.”

“Sorry.”

“I take it you haven’t seen
Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure
.”

“Is that a movie?”

“Forget it. Just forget it.” They waited for another red light.

“I like your car better,” he said, rubbing his hand along the Accord’s console and taking a sudden interest in the radio.

“That’s good, Mark. This street is about to stop at the river, and I think we should discuss exactly where it is you want to go.”

“Well, right now, I just want to leave Memphis, okay? I really don’t care where we go, I just want to get out of Dodge.”

“And once we leave Memphis, where might we be going? A destination would be nice.”

“Let’s cross the bridge by the Pyramid, okay?”

“Fair enough. You want to go to Arkansas?”

“Why not? Yeah, sure, let’s go to Arkansas.”

“Fair enough.”

With that decision out of the way, he leaned forward
and carefully inspected the radio. He pushed a button, turned a knob, and Reggie braced for a loud burst of rap or heavy metal. He made adjustments with both hands. Just a kid with a new toy. He should be home in a warm bed, and he should sleep late since it’s Saturday. And fresh from bed he should watch cartoons, then, still in pajamas, play Nintendo with all its buttons and gadgets, much like he was doing right then with the radio. The Four Tops finished a song.

“You listen to oldies?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

“Sometimes. I thought you’d like it. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning, not the best time for the loud stuff, you know.”

“Why do you think I like oldies?”

“Well, Reggie, to be perfectly honest, I can’t see you at a rap concert. And besides, the radio in your car was on this station last time I rode in it.”

Union Avenue stopped at the river, and they sat at another red light. A police car stopped next to them, and the cop behind the wheel frowned at Mark.

“Don’t look at him,” Reggie scolded.

The light changed, and she turned right onto Riverside Drive. The cop followed. “Don’t turn around,” she said under her breath. “Just act normal.”

“Damn, Reggie, why is he following us?”

“I have no idea. Just be cool.”

“He recognized me. My face has been plastered all over the newspapers this week, and the cop recognized me. This is just great, Reggie. We make our big escape, and ten minutes later the cops nail us.”

“Be quiet, Mark. I’m trying to drive and watch him at the same time.”

He eased downward, sliding slowly until his butt
was on the edge of the seat and his head was just above the door handle. “What’s he doing?” he whispered.

Her eyes darted back and forth from the mirror to the street. “Just following. No, wait. Here he comes.”

The police car eased by them, then sped away. “He’s gone,” she said, and Mark breathed again.

They entered I-40 at the downtown ramp, and were on the bridge over the Mississippi River. He gazed at the brightly lit Pyramid to the right, then spun around to admire the Memphis skyline fading in the distance. He stared in awe, as if he’d never seen it before. Reggie wondered if the poor child had ever left Memphis.

An Elvis song started. “You like Elvis?” he asked.

“Mark, believe it or not, when I was a teenager growing up in Memphis, a bunch of us girls would ride over to Elvis’s house on Sundays and watch him play touch football. This was before he was really famous, and he still lived at home with his parents in a nice little house. He went to Humes High School, which is now Northside.”

“I live in north Memphis. At least I did. I don’t know where I live now.”

“We’d go to his concerts, and we’d see him hanging out around town. He was just an average guy, at first, then things changed. He got so famous he couldn’t live a normal life.”

“Just like me, Reggie,” he said with a sudden smile. “Think of it. Me and Elvis. Pictures on the front page. Photographers everywhere. All sorts of people looking for us. It’s tough being famous.”

“Yeah, and wait till tomorrow, in the Sunday paper. I can see the headlines now, big, bold letters—SWAY ESCAPES.”

“It’s great! And they’ll have my smiling face on the front page again with cops all around me like I’m some kind of serial killer. And those same cops will sound so stupid trying to explain how an eleven-year-old kid escaped from jail. I wonder if I’m the youngest kid to ever escape from jail.”

“Probably.”

“I do feel sorry for Doreen, though. Do you think she’ll get in trouble?”

“Was she on duty?”

“No. It was Telda and Denny. Wouldn’t bother me if they got fired.”

“Doreen’s probably okay. She’s been there a long time.”

“I faked her out, you know. I started acting like I was going into shock, just fading away to la-la land as Romey called it. Every time she checked on me, I acted weirder and weirder; quit talking to her, just stared at the ceiling and groaned. She knows all about Ricky, and she became convinced it was happening to me too. Yesterday, she brought in a medic from the jail, and he examined me. Said I was fine. But Doreen was worried. I guess I used her.”

“How’d you get out?”

“Played like I was in shock, you know. I worked up a good sweat running around my little cell, then curled up in a ball and sucked my thumb. It scared them so bad, they called the ambulance. I knew if I could make it to St. Peter’s, I was home free. That place is a zoo.”

“And you just disappeared?”

“They had me on this stretcher, and when they turned their backs I got up and, yeah, just disappeared.
Look, Reggie, there were people dying right and left, so no one was concerned with me. It was easy.”

They were over the bridge and into Arkansas. The highway was flat and lined on both sides by truck stops and motels. He turned to admire the Memphis skyline once more, but it was gone.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Memphis. I like to look at the tall buildings downtown. A teacher told me once that people actually live in those tall buildings. It’s hard to believe.”

“Why is it hard to believe?”

“I saw a movie once about this little rich kid who lived in a tall building in a city, and he roamed around the streets just having a great time. He knew the cops by their first names. He stopped taxis when he wanted to go somewhere. And at night, he’d sit on the balcony and watch the streets below. I’ve always thought that would be a wonderful way to live. No cheap house trailers. No trashy neighbors. No pickups parked in the street in front of your house.”

“You can have it, Mark. It’s yours, if you want it.”

He gave her a long look. “How?”

“Right now the FBI will give you whatever you want. You can live in a tall building in a big city, or you can live in a cabin in the mountains. You pick the place.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“You can live on a beach and play in the ocean, or you can live in Orlando and go to Disney World every day.”

“That’d be okay for Ricky. I’m too old. I’ve heard the tickets are too expensive.”

“You’d probably get a lifetime pass if you asked for
it. Right now, Mark, you and your mom can get anything you want.”

“Yeah, but, Reggie, who wants it if you’re afraid of your shadow. For three nights now, I’ve had nightmares about these people, Reggie. I don’t want to be scared for the rest of my life. They’ll get me one day, I know they will.”

“So what do you do, Mark?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve been thinking real hard about something.”

“I’m listening.”

“One good thing about jail is that it allows you to think a lot.” He placed one foot on one knee and wrapped his fingers around it. “Think about this, Reggie. What if Romey told me a lie? He was drunk, taking pills, out of his mind. Maybe he was just talking to hear himself talk. I was there, remember. The man was crazy. Said all sorts of weird things, and at first I believed all of it. I was scared to death, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. My head was hurting where he’d slapped me. But now, well, I’m not so sure. All week I’ve been remembering crazy stuff he said and did, and maybe I was too eager to believe everything.”

She was driving exactly fifty-five miles per hour and hanging on every word. She had no idea where he was going with this, and she had no idea where the car was going either.

“But I couldn’t take a chance, right? I mean, what if I’d told the cops everything and they found the body right where Romey said? Everybody’s happy but the Mafia, and who knows what would happen to me. And what if I’d told the cops everything, but Romey was lying and they found no body? I’m off the hook, right, because in reality I didn’t know anything at all. What a
joker, that Romey. But it was too big of a risk.” He paused for a half mile. The Beach Boys sang “California Girls.” “So I’ve had a brainstorm.”

By now, she could almost feel this brainstorm. Her heart stopped and she managed to keep the wheels between the white lines of the right lane. “And what might that be?” she asked nervously.

“I think we should see if Romey was lying or not.”

She cleared her dry throat. “You mean, go find the body.”

“That’s right.”

She wanted to laugh at this innocent humor of a hyperactive mind, but at the moment she didn’t have the strength. “You must be kidding.”

“Well, let’s talk about it. You and I are both expected to be in New Orleans Monday morning, right?”

“I guess. I haven’t seen a subpoena.”

“But I’m your client, and I’ve got a subpoena. So even if they didn’t give you one, you’d still have to go with me, right?”

“That’s true.”

“And now we’re on the run, right? Just you and me, Bonnie and Clyde, running from the cops.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Where’s the last place they’d look for us? Think about it, Reggie. Where’s the last place in the world they’d expect us to run to?”

“New Orleans.”

“Right. Now, I don’t know anything about hiding out, but since you’re dodging a subpoena and you’re a lawyer and all, and you deal with criminals all
the time, I figure you could get us to New Orleans and no one would know it. Right?”

“I suppose so.” She was beginning to agree with him, and she was shocked by her own words.

“And if you can get us to New Orleans, then we’ll find Romey’s house.”

“Why Romey’s house?”

“That’s where the body’s supposed to be.”

This was the last thing in the world she wanted to know. She slowly removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. A slight ache was forming between her temples, and it would only get worse.

Romey’s house? The home of Jerome Clifford, deceased? He had said this very slowly, and she had heard it very slowly. She glared at taillights in front of them but there was nothing but a red blur. Romey’s house? The victim of the murder was buried at the home of the accused’s lawyer. This was beyond bizarre. Her mind raced wildly in circles asking itself a hundred questions and answering none of them. She glanced in the mirror, and was suddenly aware that he was staring at her with a curious smile.

“Now you know, Reggie,” he said.

“But how, why—”

“Don’t ask, because I don’t know. It’s crazy, isn’t it? That’s why I think Romey could’ve made it up. A crazy mind created this weird story about the body being at his house.”

“So, you don’t think it’s really there?” she asked, seeking reassurance.

“We won’t know until we look. If it’s not there, I’m off the hook and life returns to normal.”

“But what if it’s there?”

“We’ll worry about that when we find it.”

“I don’t like your brainstorm.”

“Why not?”

“Look, Mark, son, client, friend, if you think I’m going to New Orleans to dig up a dead body, then you’re crazy.”

“Of course I’m crazy. Me and Ricky, just a couple of nut cases.”

“I won’t do it.”

“Why not, Reggie?”

“It’s much too dangerous, Mark. It’s insane, and it could get us killed. I won’t go, and I can’t let you do it.”

“Why is it dangerous?”

“Well, it’s just dangerous. I don’t know.”

“Think about it, Reggie. We check on the body, okay. Then if it’s not where Romey said, I’m home free. We’ll tell the cops to drop everything against us, and in return I’ll tell them what I know. And since I don’t know where the body really is, the Mafia couldn’t care less about me. We walk.”