The Guilty

by David Baldacci

  Actually, any alcohol will do.”

  He took a sip. It tasted both sweet and salty.

  Victoria sat down and so did he. He glanced at the window behind them in time to see Priscilla scurry away, with Tyler in her arms.

  “Everybody in Cantrell, maybe on the whole Gulf Coast, knows Sherman Clancy. Knew Sherman Clancy,” she corrected. “He got around, made himself quite ubiquitous.”

  Robie had pondered on the way over how to approach this. He decided the direct way was preferable.

  “And you apparently enjoyed his company at some point.”

  She took another sip of the sangria, set her glass down, and took a few moments to wipe her mouth with a cloth napkin on the table. She leaned back in the white wicker chair and studied him.

  “So I see you’ve made the rounds of gossip in Cantrell. Busy day for you.”

  “I’ve made some rounds. But that statement didn’t come from gossip. It was from your court testimony. Wasn’t it?”

  “I spent one drunken night with Sherman Clancy. And no, we did not sleep together. We just drank together. He fell asleep halfway through. I had to keep waking him up.”

  “Why drink with him at all? You apparently don’t think much of him. And while I haven’t known you very long, you don’t strike me as being, well, that sort.”

  “If you must know, I had a little problem, and I needed Clancy’s help in order to solve it.”

  ‘What was that little problem?”

  “That is none of your business,” she said sharply.

  “Did you testify about it in court?”

  “No. That was also none of their business. They just needed to know that I was with Clancy when Janet Chisum was killed. They didn’t need to know why.”

  “You took a long time to come forward, I understand?”

  “Of course I did. It was eating me up inside. My husband was the judge. I would have to testify that I was with another man that night. A man that Dan didn’t get along with in the first place. And though I know I didn’t sleep with him I was well aware that everyone in Cantrell, and that probably includes my husband, would assume that Sherman Clancy had screwed my brains out.”

  “But you did come forward?”

  “Yes, I did. They were seeking the death penalty against Clancy. I didn’t care for the man, but I couldn’t let the state of Mississippi execute him for a crime I know he couldn’t have committed. I admit that I lied to the police when they initially questioned me about it. But later I knew I had to tell the truth. And the real killer was still out there. If they convicted Clancy, they’d never catch the person who really did it.”

  Obviously agitated, she drank down her glass of sangria and poured another. “Maybe I should have just kept quiet,” she said. “Then Clancy would be in prison and my husband wouldn’t be.”

  “How did my father take the news about you and Clancy?”

  “Not well,” she said tersely. “He…sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength.”

  “So he beat you?”

  “I wasn’t talking about his physical strength, though he has plenty of that. No, I was talking up here.” She tapped her forehead. “He can be quite cruel with words.”

  Don’t I know that, thought Robie. “Do you think he killed Clancy?”

  Her look told him that she had expected this question. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “What does he say?”

  “He doesn’t say. When I visit him he asks me how Ty is doing. He asks me how I feel. He wants to know what is going on at the Willows. He does not talk about the case against him.”

  “I need to get in to see him.”

  “He has to allow it, Will. Otherwise they won’t let you in.”

  “Can you ask him? Tell him I want to see him?”

  She hesitated. “Why? What good would it do?”

  “I don’t know if it will do any good at all. But it’s something I have to do.”

  “I don’t know anything about the falling-out you two had. Or why you went away. Dan never talked about it.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that he would.”

  “And your mother? He never talks about her, either.”

  “She was as unlike my father as it was possible to be.”

  “Well, they do say opposites attract.”

  “But can opposites exist together for the long term?”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Ever wanted to be?”

  Robie didn’t answer right away. He was thinking back to a woman he thought he had loved. Right up until the moment he had put a bullet in her head.

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, I wanted to be married to your father from the very first moment I saw him.”

  “You met at some sort of legal convention?”

  She nodded. “I’m not a lawyer. Don’t have the mind for it. I was a pharmaceutical rep for years and a very successful one, if I do say so myself. Frankly, I’d flirt with the male doctors and they bought whatever I was selling. I attended some of our national conventions and learned how they were set up and run. Then I started doing event organizing, and my business really took off. Well, when your father walked into that room, my God, he was tall, robust, beautiful white hair, tanned skin. He just commanded the place. All the other judges flocked to Dan Robie. He just had that sort of presence about him.” She paused. “I’m sure they all hate me for what’s happened. My jealous husband kills my alleged lover.”

  “Is that how you see it?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what everyone else thinks. That’s reality.”

  “Will you tell him I need to talk to him?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “If you really want me to, I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. He might refuse. And if he does agree to see you, it might be even worse.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because you’ll be stuck smack in the middle of this mess. Shall we go in to supper?”

  Chapter

  17

  THE DINNER WAS finely cooked and graciously served by both Priscilla and Victoria. Chicken-fried steak, green beans with salted pork, fat roasted tomatoes, seasoned squash, soft-as-butter bread, and banana pudding with a cinnamon crust for dessert.

  Robie finally put his fork down and said, “One of the best meals I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

  Victoria looked pleased by his compliment. “It was a joint effort between Priscilla and me. She does all the foundation work and I add a bit here and there as the finish. The woman can cook. All I have to do is try to keep the fat and sodium levels down. The state of Mississippi is not exactly known for healthy eating.”

  “But you get to die happy then,” interjected Priscilla as she walked in and started clearing the table. “I put Ty in bed, Ms. Victoria, if you want to go up and say good night. Boy won’t go to sleep till you kiss ’im on the head.”

  Robie followed her up the stairs. He expected that his father had fallen for Victoria quite as fast as she had for him. Robie’s mother had been petite and pretty, and in her son’s eyes, nothing less than perfect, right up until the moment she had abandoned him. But Victoria’s beauty was exceptional. He wondered, and not for the first time, whether she had allowed herself to be bedded by Sherman Clancy. And if so, why? Was all not right in her marriage?

  Tyler was sitting up in bed waiting for his mother. When he saw Robie, his expression changed slightly. It was not a fearful one, just curious. While still staring at Robie he reached out his arms for his mother. She sat down on the bed and swallowed the little boy up in her arms.

  She put Tyler on her lap and pointed at Robie. “Ty, this is Will. He’s family. Your brother. Your big brother.”

  Robie could see the little boy mouth the word brother, but no sound came out. But then he touched his chest and pointed at Robie. Robie didn’t understand, and looked at Victoria.

  “It’s hi
s way of saying he loves you,” said Victoria. She placed her hand on her son’s chest. “He knows his heart is right there.”

  Robie nodded and slowly put his hand on his chest and pointed at Tyler.

  The boy immediately broke out into an enormous smile that managed to cut right through Robie’s normally hardened shell. Robie felt his mouth edge upward into a reciprocating grin.

  He had never had a brother or any siblings at all. It had been just him for so long now. It was a bit overwhelming to realize that he had another “family” he never knew existed until he’d come back to Cantrell.

  Victoria laid Tyler back in the bed and covered him with a sheet before kissing him on the forehead. “You have yourself a fine sleep, Ty Robie, okay?”

  He nodded, ran his small fingers up and down her cheek, and then turned on his side and closed his eyes.

  When Victoria rose from the bed Robie could see a tear sliding down her face. She brushed it away and said, “I’m going to have a glass of port to finish off the meal. Care to join me?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. Robie followed her downstairs, where she snatched two glasses and a bottle of tawny port off a sideboard before heading out to the back verandah.

  They sat in hanging wicker chairs, drank their port, and looked out onto the rear grounds. The water from the pool shimmered under the moonlight. The briny smell of the Gulf, mixed with the chlorine from the pool, filled Robie’s nostrils. His eyes came to rest on the spot where he had last held Laura Barksdale.

  He turned to Victoria. “Who did you buy the Willows from? Was it the Barksdales?”

  “No, at least I don’t believe so. Dan handled all that. I remember he brought me here one day before our wedding and wanted to know if I cared to live here.” She smiled. “I mean, what woman wouldn’t? It’s beautiful. We put in the pool and spruced up the grounds and did some interior remodeling, especially with the kitchen, but the place had the most wonderful bones.”

  “I knew the Barksdales. Are they still around?”

  “Not that I know of. Dan never mentioned them. But if they were a prominent family I’m sure somebody here knows. Were they a nice family?”

  “Yes,” said Robie. He took a sip of his port. “There was a daughter, Laura, who was very special.”

  He turned to see Victoria’s gaze on him. “Special to you?”

  “Back then, yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “People make different choices. Go different ways.”

  Victoria sighed, kicked off her sandals, and drew her legs up under her. “Yes they do.”

  “How did the doctor’s appointment go?”

  “Not all that well. No breakthroughs or anything like that.”

  “Are they sure it’s not a physical thing?”

  “Yes. He has all the anatomical equipment necessary to speak.”

  “Could he be autistic?”

  “It’s possible. We’ve had him checked for that, of course, but there are so many different forms on the spectrum I don’t think the doctors can keep them all straight. And they’re making new discoveries every day in the field. Right now, they’re just puzzled.”

  “He seems intelligent and aware of things.”

  “He is. He’s perfectly normal except he doesn’t talk.” She paused, took a sip of port and said, “Our having Ty wasn’t exactly planned. Frankly, I’m a little old to be having kids, but it just happened. I think your father wasn’t too keen when we found out we were going to have a baby. But let me tell you, when Ty was born that man scooped him up in his arms and I don’t think he ever wanted to let him go. There’s something special about watching a big, strong man be so gentle with a baby, like they’re afraid they’ll break it if they’re not careful. Your father loves that little boy.” She added wistfully, “Sometimes I think he loves Ty more than he loves me. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know.”

  Robie searched around for something to say to change the direction of the conversation. “I guess it’s good that Ty is so young. He can’t really understand what’s going on with his father.”

  “He understands more than people think. He may not be able to communicate in a conventional way, but that boy sees everything. And he feels things, too. Senses if folks are sad.”

  “Like you are now?”

  “Like I am now, yes.”

  “His arraignment is tomorrow morning at ten. I assume you’re going?”

  She looked unsure.

  “Victoria?”

  “I haven’t decided. I know it’ll look bad if I’m not there. But because I provided Clancy his alibi and the rumor mill is going strong that I slept with the man, folks might think it’s all disingenuous.”

  “I still think you should be there.”

  “Even if your father doesn’t want me to be?”

  “Did he say that?”

  “Sometimes it’s what people don’t say that’s the most important.”

  “Well, I plan to be there.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “And I’m not leaving here until I get to talk to him.”

  “Then I hope you’re prepared to be here a long time, because he is one stubborn son of a bitch.”

  “In that regard I am my father’s son.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I was at Danby’s Tavern, but after my little run-in with Pete Clancy and his buddies, I was asked to leave.”

  She put her bare feet on the planks. “Then you’re going to stay here.”

  “Victoria, you don’t have—”

  “Don’t give me any back talk, Will Robie. This is your father’s home, which means it’s your home, too. I’ll have Priscilla get one of the guest rooms ready. It’s not like we don’t have the space. And what’s southern hospitality if I can’t offer my stepson a roof over his head?”

  She went inside to talk to Priscilla.

  Robie continued to sit in his swing seat, staring out at a darkness that he was coming to understand might hold more uncertainty for him than any of his missions around the world ever had.

  So much for coming home.

  Chapter

  18

  IT WAS THE darkest point of the night immediately before the growing lightness in the eastern sky.

  Robie rose from his bed in his comfortable guest room on the second floor of the Willows, slipped on his jeans, and padded out onto the rear upper-story verandah. There was a breeze that carried the salt air of the Gulf to the south and mixed it with that of the freshwater Pearl from the west. The comingled smells had been natural ones for Robie growing up. Indeed, he could hardly remember a morning here when he had not been greeted by that confluence of sea and river air.

  Robie was a man well used to seeing everything around him, even if some things (and people) did their best to remain unseen. The slight movement to the left of the rear of the house immediately caught his attention. There was wildlife here, to be sure. But wildlife never walked upright on two feet.

  It was a man.

  Robie’s gun was under his pillow. He retrieved it, placed it in the back of his waistband, and clambered down the verandah column, alighting softly on the ground.

  He squatted down, his eyes roaming from the point where he had last seen the movement and then to the left and right. He didn’t pick up on it again. And he heard no noise after that, neither feet running nor a car starting up.

  He stood and tried to reconstruct what he had seen in his head.

  Male. Six feet tall or maybe taller. Dark hair, dark clothing. Face