Divine Rebel

by Tom Wallace

  “Not really, but I’m probably about to find out,” I said.

  “That maybe Rabbit ain’t looking to be found. That maybe he’s purposefully avoiding you.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Probably because he don’t like strangers asking him questions.”

  “Strangers? I’ve known Rabbit a lot longer than you have. We grew up together. And for your information, I never said I was looking for him.”

  “Why else would you be here?”

  “To ask you a few questions, Chet.”

  “Well, Chief, that marks you as a two-time loser. Rabbit ain’t here, and I’m in no mood to answer your questions.” Chet looked straight at Angel but directed his words at me. “I guess that makes you one unlucky fuck.”

  Angel didn’t react or respond in any way to what Chet said. Although she was silent, her eyes were locked onto his. I had the feeling she was sizing up which moves would be required to beat the crap out of a man who spoke in such a vile, ugly manner. But Chet was a big strong-looking guy, so I could only hope she didn’t elect to make a move against him.

  “Here’s your choice,” I said, quietly. “You either answer a couple of simple questions from me, or a whole series of questions from the FBI. It’s your call, Chief.”

  This was, of course, mostly a bluff. And not one I thought was very persuasive. Why should it be? I’m a writer, not a cop. Turns out I was right.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing here and now that I’ll tell the FBI if they show up,” Chet snapped. “And that is…fuck off.”

  With that pronouncement, Angel’s patience had reached its limit. Leaning forward, elbows on the bar, she said, “Were you born a complete asshole, or did you have to work hard to achieve that goal? If you did have to work at it, you certainly succeeded, because by any realistic standard of measurement you are most-definitely a world-class asshole.”

  Chet looked at me, grinned, and said, “Damn, Chief, I like her a whole lot more than I like you. She’s got some brass balls on her somewhere.” He shifted his attention to Angel. “Okay, Miss Brass Balls, for you I’ll let your boyfriend ask—”

  “My father.”

  “…your father ask a couple of questions. Go for it, Dad.”

  Not ashamed to follow my daughter’s lead, I said, “Are you aware that on the night Luke Felton was murdered, Todd Brown was here with Rabbit?”

  “Ah, Chief, Rabbit drinks with dozens of different people when he’s here, many of whom pay for his booze.” He swept an arm toward the seating area. “And that includes just about everyone here right now. How can I be expected to remember who anyone was with on a specific night months ago? That’s damn near impossible.”

  “When we were previously here, you made a big deal about my daughter being underage, and therefore you wouldn’t serve her alcohol for fear of ‘causing trouble you didn’t want or need.’ Those were your exact words. Do you recall saying that?”

  “Yeah, I said it and I meant it.”

  “Yet you served Todd Brown when he was in here with Rabbit?” I nodded at Angel. “And Todd is younger than Samantha. What’s your explanation for breaking your own rule?”

  “You’re claiming he was served that night,” Chet said defiantly. “I don’t have any memory of him drinking alcohol. Do you have proof that he did?”

  “Yeah, I do. Todd acknowledged it.”

  “The kid’s a convicted murderer, Chief. Do you think he’s beyond lying?”

  “Why would he? He’s already locked up for life. What reason does he have to lie about anything?”

  “What else can I tell you, Chief? I don’t remember Todd Brown drinking that night, but if he did, who cares? What difference does it make now?”

  “But you do remember him being here that night with Rabbit, right?”

  “Maybe. But I wouldn’t swear to it.”

  “Todd says he went to the rest room while he was here. Says he was away from the bar for a few minutes.”

  “Big deal. Going to take a whiz ain’t exactly a newsworthy event.”

  “Did you know Todd had a pharmacy of drugs in his system on the night Luke was killed?” I said. “The kind of stuff that might cause a person to have a complete memory loss?”

  “How could I possibly know that?” Chet said. “And I hope you aren’t suggesting that I or anyone else sells drugs here, because we don’t. Drugs of any kind are strictly forbidden on these premises.”

  “Think hard, Chet. Is it possible someone slipped something into Todd’s drink while he was in the rest room?”

  “Like who? Rabbit?”

  “You tell me. Is Rabbit capable of doing something like that?”

  “Why are you asking me, Chief? You’re the one who grew up with him. You know him better than I do. Those are your own words.”

  “People change over time. He may not be the same guy I remember.”

  “Rabbit would never spike someone’s drink, not in a million years. He’s an alcoholic and he’s a little weird, but he’s not evil. And only an evil person would do something like that.”

  “There’s something we can agree on, Chet,” I said. “What do I owe you for the two Cokes?”

  “For a genuine war hero, they’re on the house,” Chet said, sarcasm dripping with every word. “But those two Cokes are all you get. Don’t bother coming back again with more of your questions. Third time ain’t a charm, Chief. If you do, I will toss your ass out, medals and all. You get my message?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angel’s body tense up. Although I have never seen a live jaguar on the prowl for food, that’s what Angel reminded me of at this moment. She was wired and ready to pounce on her prey. I gently reached out and took hold of her arm, making sure she didn’t charge at Chet. She wanted to, that was obvious.

  “Message received loud and clear, Chet. Whether or not I adhere to it, well, only time will answer that for us.” I laid a five-dollar bill on the bar. “That’s for the drinks. Keep the change as your tip.”

  ~ * ~

  I expected Angel to explode like a bomb going off once we were outside the Legion. But that didn’t happen. She was quiet all the way to the car. I have to give her credit…she was cool and restrained, not allowing her anger to control her actions. Angel was the kind of warrior I’d want beside me in a foxhole when the shit hit the fan.

  Using her fob, she unlocked the car and we both got in. She started the engine, turned to me, and said, “That guy is such a turd.”

  I buckled my seatbelt and said, “I thought you called him a world-class asshole.”

  “Well, yeah, that too.” She backed away from the Legion, made a sharp turn, and we headed for town. “What’s our next stop, Dad?”

  “Check on my car, see if it’s ready. If it is, we’ll go back to the motel and hang out until it’s time to eat.”

  The Lexus was ready when we showed up, fitted with four brand new tires, waiting for me to get in and drive it away. Rick came outside when he saw us pull up in front of the big bay door. He had the keys in one hand and a receipt and warranty papers in the other hand.

  “Your timing is impeccable,” he said, smiling. “We finished putting the last tire on not more than fifteen minutes ago. She’s ready to roll.”

  After making a cursory inspection of the new tires, which all looked good, I took the keys and papers from Rick, thanked him, and shook his hand. Prior to getting into my car, I asked Angel if she needed to follow me to the motel. It was a question better left unasked.

  “Are you joking, Dad?” she replied. “If I can navigate my way around L.A.’s freeway system, I’m pretty sure I can keep from getting lost in Central City.”

  What could I do other than agree with that declaration?

  Angel didn’t get lost, successfully navigating the three turns required to get from Pace Tire to Best Western, a trip that took fewer than ten minutes. You can’t get anywhere in Los Angeles in such a short time, regardless of how close point A is to p
oint B. In my hometown, point A is practically point B.

  ~ * ~

  At the motel I once again parked next to Angel and got out. She was a couple of steps in front of me as we moved toward the building. When we reached the back door, she made a snide reference to Lewis and Clark. I think it was her way of boasting about being a pathfinder, but I couldn’t swear to what she was trying to convey. Didn’t matter; I ignored it.

  Angel went to her room, I went to mine. I think both of us felt a need to spend some time alone. Like point A and point B in my hometown, we had practically been joined at the hip for the past several days. Don’t get me wrong…I’m not complaining. I appreciate every second with Angel. But a little time apart would probably do us both some good.

  In desperate need of a drink, I cursed myself for not stopping on the way to the motel and purchasing some scotch and soda. A major oversight on my part. In lieu of alcohol, I walked down the hallway, found a vending machine, and bought a bottle of Pepsi.

  My cell phone was buzzing when I got back to the room. I set the Pepsi on a table, picked up the phone, and cringed when I saw who was calling. Karen Tucker.

  The last person on earth I needed to speak with.

  “Karen,” I said, trying to drum up some fake enthusiasm. “I didn’t expect to hear from you. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine,” she said. “Are you alone? In a position to speak freely?”

  Damn. Now I regretted not having Angel in the room with me.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Why don’t you come over tonight? I’d love seeing you again.”

  “Not a good idea, Karen. Maybe when Mike gets back, Samantha and I will have dinner with you guys.”

  “Samantha won’t come…she hates me. She made that perfectly clear at the courthouse.”

  “That’s because she knows about us. She doesn’t approve. And to be perfectly honest with you, Karen, neither do I. What we did was a mistake. It can never happen again.”

  “Come see me, Nick,” she pleaded. “We’ll talk, have a couple of drinks, nothing more. I promise to be a good girl.”

  “Can’t do it, Karen,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Why? Because you betrayed Mike? Your best friend?”

  “We both betrayed Mike, Karen.”

  “What about Mike betraying me? Did you ever consider that possibility? And would that factor in at all?”

  “What are you saying, Karen? That Mike cheated on you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And not cheated, cheating. Do you think for one second that he’s attending his meeting alone? Well, here’s a news flash for you… he’s not. He’s with his newest paramour. Her name is Cheryl and she’s from Dallas. Hate to shatter Mike’s image for you, Nick, but he’s far from the saint you make him out to be.”

  I sat there stunned, letting her words sink in, unsure how to respond. But I didn’t get the chance. Karen wasn’t finished unloading her anger.

  “And for your information, Nick, this isn’t his first fling,” she continued. “He was head over heels in love with a woman about three years ago. Unfortunately, I never got her name.”

  Three years ago. Sharon Anderson. Say it ain’t so, Joe.

  “If you didn’t get her name, Karen, then maybe you’re mistaken. I mean, how can you know for sure?”

  “How can I know for sure? Here’s how, Nick. For almost a year, Mike moped around like he was the saddest man in the world. He rarely spoke, lost weight, and had no interest in having a physical relationship with me. I don’t know why the affair ended, or who broke it off, although judging by how he dealt with it, I’m betting she did. The man was totally devastated. I didn’t think he was ever going to snap out of it.”

  “Look, Karen, your marriage is between you and Mike,” I said. “You guys are the only ones who can work it out. What goes on between the two of you is none of my business.”

  “Work it out? Yeah, right, like that’s gonna happen.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Karen.”

  “Tell Mike that you and I talked. Tell him I know about his affair. His affairs. Tell him that if he doesn’t drop Cheryl, I’m out the door. Tell him I’m done with his philandering. And tell him this is his last chance. That’s what you can tell him, Nick.”

  Her spiteful oratory concluded, now in tears, she ended the call. I was thankful and relieved that she had. There was nothing else for me to say, and I’d grown weary of listening to her demolish Mike, which she did without painting a full or accurate picture of what had transpired. Mike cheated on his wife, I cheated with his wife. Way I saw it, there was plenty of blame to go around. But like I told Karen, the fate of their marriage wasn’t in my hands. I didn’t know how they could repair the damage, even if that was still possible. All I knew for sure was that I’m in no position to pass judgment on anyone. I have enough sins of my own to answer for.

  Eighteen

  Angel and I were in Philly’s Restaurant sitting across from Anne Bishop. Anne had phoned earlier asking to meet and to exchange notes regarding the Todd Brown case. I had no idea what notes she might have… she hadn’t appeared to be working the case very intensely the last time we met… but I agreed to see her. Anne struck me as a serious professional who genuinely had Todd’s best interest at heart, even though I questioned the extent of her recent effort to help. However, before casting too many stones at her, I couldn’t overlook the fact that any effort she put forth, then or now, had been seriously short-circuited by Todd’s ill-advised early confession. She was hamstrung from the start.

  Anne was almost finished with her salad by the time Angel and I finally showed up. We had eaten breakfast two hours earlier at Huddle House, so we only ordered something to drink. Angel had iced tea, I had a Pepsi.

  “Anything new or important you have to share?” Anne said, before taking a drink of her tea. “I’m assuming you are continuing your research.”

  Angel nudged me in the ribs with her elbow before I could respond. “Look who just walked in, Dad,” she whispered. “Coincidence or do you think we’re being followed?”

  Perry Jackson and Deputy McElwain, both men attired in full uniform, strutted in looking like they owned the place. Sheriff Andy and Barney Fife would’ve been envious. They were accompanied by a third man who looked to be a few years senior to his companions. He wore gray khaki pants, a blue Polo shirt, and Dockers. He moved like a man with high self-esteem, a man comfortable with giving orders while fully expecting each one to be followed to the letter.

  “You’ve been reading too many spy novels,” I said to Angel. “I doubt they are following us. This is a restaurant, and it’s lunch time. The fact that we’re here at the same time is pure chance. We have nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Who are you referring to?” Anne asked. Her back to the door, she had not seen the three men enter. She glanced over her shoulder to get a better look. “Oh, you mean Perry and Dorsey?”

  “Dorsey? That’s McElwain’s name?” Angel said.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know the guy who is with them?” I asked.

  They had taken a table in the back, which required Anne to shift in her seat in order to see them clearly. “Russell Barker,” she finally said, settling back in her seat.

  “What’s his deal?” I inquired.

  “Russell was the county sheriff prior to Perry Jackson,” Anne answered. “He held the job for several years, a decade or more, if I recall correctly. Then about eleven or twelve years ago, he decided not to seek re-election. I guess he’d just become tired of the job. No one was going to beat him if he ran again; he was a lock to win. Anyway, after resigning he sat around doing nothing for a year or so, and then decided to run for magistrate. He won easily, and has been re-elected ever since.”

  “So he worked with Perry Jackson?”

  “Yes, I’m positive their time in the sheriff’s office overlapped. In fact, I’d say Russ hired Perry.”

  “H
ave you had any dealings with Russell?”

  “No. I really don’t know the man at all. But what I can tell you is that he’s very powerful in this county.” Anne pushed her plate away. “I’m so full I could explode.”

  I said, “I’d really like to speak with Todd again. Can you make that happen?”

  “How soon would you like to meet with him?”

  “What about this afternoon? Is that possible?”

  “I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t. I’m his attorney of record, which gives me the right to meet with him anytime I see fit. All I have to do is call the warden and let him know I’m on the way. He’ll have Todd waiting for us when we get there.”

  “What about Samantha?” I said. “Can she come with us?”

  “If she wants to, sure,” Anne replied.

  “How about it, Angel?”

  “You have to ask?” she said, standing. “Why are we waiting?”

  ~ * ~

  Anne followed us from Greenville to the Best Western, where Angel and I got in her car for the drive to the prison. Angel sat up front with Anne, while I rode in the back jotting down questions I wanted to ask Todd.

  At the prison we cleared security with no problems and were led to what was obviously someone’s office. There was a desk, bookcase, table, and six chairs in the room. When we got there, we were told that Steve and Mary Sue Brown were visiting Todd, along with Todd’s mother, Susan. Steve, who was facing the door, saw us, got up from the table, and came out to talk with us. He had a very distraught look on his face. Who could blame him?

  “Good to see you again, Nick,” Steve said, forcing a smile. “Are you guys here to speak with Todd?”

  Anne said, “Yes, but don’t let us rush you off. We’re in no hurry.”

  “Why don’t you come in with us?”

  “I think they might frown on six people with him at the same time,” Anne said. “It’s probably better if we wait until the three of you leave.”

  I didn’t know if what Anne said was true or not, but it did make sense.

  Steve went back inside but remained standing. A short while later, the two women stood and gave Todd a long hug, Mary Sue first, followed by Susan. It was plain to see how difficult it was for them to say goodbye. I’m sure they would be perfectly willing to stay with Todd forever. As they walked out of the room, the tears they had been holding at bay while in front of Todd came streaming out. It was one of the most heart-wrenching scenes I’ve ever witnessed. I had tears in my eyes, and so did Angel and Anne.