Life Everlasting

by Robert Whitlow

  “They buy a few golf balls. What’s so special about it?”

  “It’s the board of directors! Two men in that group are now under constant watch by the authorities. They stay on the board because their cover is already blown, and there’s no use in resigning. The business itself is defunct. We haven’t done any business with them for six months.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Ezra held up the balance sheet, which crumpled in his hand. “The first five months of the year we shifted a total of twenty-five million dollars on four occasions for MetBack and earned a two-million-dollar commission. I handled it myself while you were out partying!”

  Jeffrey seemed to shrivel in the chair.

  “How did you even know about them?” Ezra demanded. “We’ve never discussed it.”

  “Valese told me.”

  Ezra sighed. “His mouth was his downfall. We’ll have to watch the situation with the lawyer. Rena is supposed to give me her copy of the list.”

  “And the lawyer?”

  “Send a cleaning crew to Lindale’s office to purge her records. Make sure they check her computer files too. Keep it neat, everything returned to its proper place.”

  “What if either of them keeps a copy?”

  “Rena wouldn’t know what to do with it if she did. Your job is to make sure the lawyer doesn’t have that option.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Ezra relaxed slightly and leaned back in his chair. “Do you know whether she actually had anything to do with the deputy’s death?”

  Jeffrey shook his head. “It was a freak accident. He stopped her for speeding and when she opened the car door, he fell backward and broke his neck. She panicked, drove away, and lied to the police.”

  Ezra shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. I have friends in Charleston who will keep her busy. Her ability to cause us trouble is about to end.”

  Jeffrey bit his lip. “Maybe not. Did she tell you what really happened at the waterfall?”

  Giles Porter allowed Rena to ride to the Santee jail with Alexia, who phoned Sean as soon as they were in the car. She set the phone in a holder and set it on speaker mode.

  “She’s with me,” Alexia told the Charleston lawyer. “Porter is going to let her turn herself in.”

  “Good job. My friend Skip Ayers is waiting at the magistrate’s office in Mitchell County. As soon as the magistrate knows that Rena is in custody, the magistrate will set a bond. With any luck, Rena won’t have to spend the night in jail.”

  Rena, staring out the window, made no response.

  “Whom do I call?” Alexia asked.

  “Call Skip. Does Rena have immediate access to money for the bond?”

  “Yes, so long as we know the amount before five o’clock. We called the bank before we left her house.”

  “If you have any problems, call me.”

  Alexia clicked off the phone. She wanted to say something reassuring to Rena, but her client had descended into a noncommunicative state.

  The jail, a small but modern facility, had only three cells in the women’s area. From an objective standpoint, however, the Santee jail provided better accommodations than some of the cheap motels on the outskirts of Myrtle Beach.

  Alexia parked beside Porter’s vehicle and accompanied Rena to the waiting area, a sparse, pristine room. Porter was speaking to a female deputy who sat behind a glass enclosure. The deputy eyed Rena with curiosity. A male officer, all business, came in from the back.

  “Ms. Richardson, come with me.”

  Her head down, Rena followed the officer through a heavy metal door that clanged shut behind them. The fight had left Rena. Alexia turned to Porter.

  “Will you let the Mitchell County magistrate know that she’s voluntarily come in for processing? We have an attorney standing by to file a request for bond.”

  “Yes.”

  The detective stepped over to the female deputy.

  “Where can I make a telephone call?”

  “You’ll have to use one back here.”

  Porter left Alexia alone. She phoned Skip Ayers and relayed the information to him.

  “The magistrate is ready for me,” Ayers said in a voice that revealed the same Lowcountry roots as Sean Pruitt. “I’ll call you back as soon as I have an answer.”

  Alexia put her phone in her purse. She wished she could find out how Rena was doing. The two women’s lives had become so intertwined that Alexia, now unable to provide immediate help, felt a measure of separation anxiety. Porter didn’t return to the waiting area, and Alexia began to suspect the detective was lurking around the booking section, waiting for Rena to blurt out something incriminating. She inwardly kicked herself for forgetting to remind Rena not to provide any information other than her name, age, and address. Alexia’s phone played the opening notes of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.

  “The magistrate gave us a bond,” Ayers said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “How much?”

  “Two-hundred-fifty thousand, but only twenty-five thousand in cash will secure her release so long as she signs for the full obligation.”

  Alexia nodded her head. “We can handle that.”

  “And he’s agreed to set a preliminary hearing next Friday afternoon. That was the earliest date Sean could come. Are you at the jail?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get the fax number and I’ll send the order granting bond. The magistrate is going to let me use his fax machine. He’s been very cooperative.”

  Alexia got the information from the deputy and repeated the number to the attorney.

  “Got it,” Ayers responded. “Will you be coming to the preliminary hearing?”

  “Probably.”

  “I’ll try to make it myself. I’ve heard Sean is very smooth.”

  When they hung up, Alexia waited a couple of minutes and asked the deputy to check the fax machine. The woman officer left her desk and returned with a sheet of paper in her hand.

  “It’s here.”

  “I need to see my client so we can make arrangements with the bank.” Alexia held up a blank check on Rena’s account. “I need her to sign this check so I can get the money to post her bond.”

  “I have to stay here to answer the phones,” the deputy replied. “They’ll let me know when they’ve finished booking her.”

  Alexia glanced at her watch. The bank would close in less than thirty minutes. Without the money, Rena would spend a night in jail. Alexia paced. It was unethical for an attorney to post bond; otherwise, Alexia would take care of it herself. She tried to think of someone who could come to her rescue. She called Gwen.

  “How did it go?” the secretary asked.

  Alexia realized Gwen meant the hearing in Charleston, which seemed days rather than hours ago.

  “Well, a lot has happened that I can’t go into right now. Is Rachel Downey in the building?”

  “Yes, I saw her a few minutes ago.”

  “Please get her on the phone for me.”

  The phone went silent, and Alexia waited. The Realtor’s familiar voice spoke.

  “Hello, Alexia. How are things with the house renovation?”

  Alexia didn’t have time for the usual banter.

  “Great. Ted is a real craftsman. You’ll have to see what they’ve done with the old kitchen.”

  “Let’s grab a bite to eat the first of next week and go by the house.”

  “Yes,” Alexia replied. “Rachel, I need a check for twenty-five thousand payable to the State of South Carolina—”

  At that moment the door opened, and the deputy who had taken Rena to the rear of the building spoke.

  “You may come back, Ms. Lindale.”

  “Never mind,” Alexia said to Rachel. “We’ll do lunch.”

  “Did you say twenty-five thousand?” Alexia shut the phone.

  Alexia followed the deputy through the metal door and down a short hallway. Another heavy, metal door opened into the correctional area.
Wire mesh surrounded the small booking area, and Alexia did not see Giles Porter. An obviously inebriated man in scruffy clothes sat in a metal chair in the hallway. He leaned his head against the mesh and moaned softly. When he saw Alexia, he spoke in a plaintive voice.

  “Don’t let them beat me!” he begged.

  He turned sideways and showed Alexia a nasty cut above his left ear.

  The deputy with Alexia grunted. “He got that trying to walk through a sliding-glass door at his ex-wife’s house.”

  “That’s a lie!” the man bellowed. “I was in cell number five, and you hit me with a blackjack!”

  The deputy opened the door to an interview room. Rena didn’t glance up when Alexia entered.

  “We have a bond,” Alexia said in a chipper voice. “It only requires a twenty-five thousand dollar cash payment against a guaranteed amount of two-hundred-fifty thousand. Fill out a check, and then I’ll go to the bank so we can get you out of here.”

  Alexia sat down and put the check on the small, metal table in front of Rena. Her client stared downward without making a move to pick it up.

  “We don’t have much time before the bank closes.” Alexia said patiently. “Fill out the check.”

  Rena didn’t budge.

  “Rena!” Alexia said sharply. “Look at me!”

  Rena’s head stayed bowed for a moment, and then slowly raised. The look in Rena’s eyes caused Alexia to recoil. It was a mixture of malevolence and despair—a look of death inhabited by hate.

  “I don’t care what happens to me,” Rena said in a voice that sounded more husky than usual. “I’m going away to another place where you can’t go.”

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” Alexia responded in a businesslike tone. “We’re getting you out of here today. A preliminary hearing has been set in Mitchell County at the end of next week. It will be an opportunity for Sean to find out what Porter claims to have in the way of evidence against you. Everything is being handled quickly and efficiently.”

  Rena dropped her head. Alexia stared at her for several seconds, uncertain what to do. She could handle frantic Rena; withdrawn Rena was someone new. Alexia took out her pen and filled in the check. She slid it back in front of Rena with the pen beside it.

  “Sign the check. I’ll leave for a few minutes and then come back to get you.”

  Rena didn’t respond.

  Alexia leaned back in her chair and considered her options. Perhaps she should leave Rena at the jail. It might be the safest place for her. It would be necessary to inform the officers on duty to place her on suicide watch. As she mulled over the possibility, Rena reached forward with a trembling hand and picked up the pen. Instead of signing the check, she raised it up in the air.

  “What are you doing?” Alexia asked in alarm.

  “I’m signing the check!” Rena screamed in a voice that reverberated in the tiny enclosed space.

  With a violent flourish, she scribbled her name across the bottom of the check and threw the pen across the room.

  “Get me out of here!” she screamed again.

  Alexia picked up the check and retrieved the pen. When she looked back at Rena, the young woman’s blonde head was again bowed, her gaze shielded, her chest heaving. On her way out of the jail, Alexia stopped at the booking area.

  “Please keep an eye on my client. She’s very upset.”

  Alexia rushed to the bank. The assistant vice president on duty gave Alexia a cashier’s check and locked the door of the bank behind her. Back at the jail, it took a tedious hour to process the paperwork as communication flowed between Santee and Mitchell County. Alexia asked about Porter and learned he’d left as soon as he talked with the Mitchell County magistrate. After the last fax was sent, Alexia waited anxiously for Rena. When the metal door opened and her client appeared, Alexia breathed a sigh of relief. Life had returned to Rena’s eyes.

  “Thanks,” her client said gratefully. “That was rough.”

  “I know. Let’s get you home.”

  On the ride to the house, Alexia explained the next steps in the process. Rena responded appropriately.

  “I’ll phone Sean after I drop you off,” Alexia said. “I’m sure he’ll want to increase the retainer, but he’s worth every penny.”

  “I understand.”

  “What are you going to do tonight?” Alexia asked with a touch of apprehension. “Do you need to spend the night with a friend?”

  “No. After I rest for a few minutes, I’m going to the hospital and see Baxter. Ted and I talked about the whole divorce issue this afternoon, and I need to see Baxter even if he doesn’t know that I’m there.”

  Alexia put no faith in the logic of her client’s decision-making process but didn’t really want to discuss it. Rena continued. “Would it look bad in the criminal case in Mitchell County if I got a divorce?”

  Alexia mulled over the question before answering. “It could go either way. If you file for divorce, you could explain it as a response to Baxter’s actions at the cliff. Any juror would agree no woman should remain married to someone who wants to kill her. On the other hand, it could also send a message that you’re a selfish person who tried to kill Baxter for his money and now wants to abandon him, taking a pile of cash on your way out the door.”

  Rena humphed in response.

  Alexia didn’t bother stopping by the office, but left a message on Sean’s voice mail and went straight home. No client in her career had ever drained Alexia’s emotional tank to the same extent as Rena.

  It was dark and way past supper time. Boris heard her car coming, ran to greet her, and proudly accompanied her to the house. Alexia trudged up the steps. Misha met her in a sulky mood. To placate the feline, Alexia scratched her neck and shared a few bits of tuna from the salad she threw together for a quick meal.

  Afterward, Alexia went upstairs and turned on her computer. She put a Rachmaninoff CD in her player and peacefully searched the Internet for vacation spots with white sandy beaches and gentle surf. St. John in the Caribbean looked nice, and she checked the price of flights. Before turning off the computer, she decided to do a quick cleanup of unused files. She quickly deleted several items. The folder containing information about the Richardson companies popped onto the screen. The likelihood that Rena would want to pursue a claim against her father-in-law appeared remote. Cooperation had proven more profitable than confrontation. Alexia considered pressing the delete button when the phone rang. Turning away from the keyboard, she answered the phone.

  “How are you?” Ted asked.

  “Tired. It’s been an unbelievably stressful day.”

  “Can you talk for a few minutes?”

  “Sure. You’re not a person who wears me out.”

  “How is Rena?”

  “She’s on the brink of a nervous breakdown.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  Ted had become so entwined in the loop of information that Alexia felt comfortable expressing her general opinion. She explained the most likely legal scenario.

  “We’re just beginning what will probably be a very long war. The next big step will be the preliminary hearing in Mitchell County. It’s the best opportunity for a defense lawyer to find out what the prosecution has in its file.”

  “Did Rena tell you about Baxter?”

  “Not much. I know they took him to the hospital with pneumonia.”

  “It’s very serious.”

  “Life-threatening?”

  “Yes, according to the nurse’s aide.”

  “Rena is going to see him tonight, in part because of her conversation with you.”

  “Really? I wasn’t sure I made any sense.”

  “It’s hard to know with Rena. She’s difficult to read.” Alexia paused. “Ted, are you sure you believe Rena’s story about what happened at the waterfall?”

  “Yes. I think she’s telling the truth.”

  “Sean Pruitt isn’t so sure.”

  “Has he sat down and listened to her?”


  “We had a long conference call a couple of weeks ago, but Rena was sitting in my office, and Sean was in Charleston.”

  “It’s not the same. I watched her face when I met with her in the sanctuary. I don’t think she is lying.”

  “That helps me.” Alexia yawned. “Thanks for calling. I’m about to drop.”

  “Good night. I want to give you a private concert soon to energize you. How about Saturday night? You pick the music.”

  They set a time. As Alexia clicked off the phone, she smiled. At least there was one person in Santee who didn’t always think of himself first. Her screen saver projected an underwater ocean scene with brightly colored fish.

  Alexia turned off her computer.

  40

  That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm.

  KING LEAR, ACT 3, SCENE 4

  Ezra, Jeffrey, and Rena stood in silence around Baxter’s bed. The patient lay motionless, a rich mixture of oxygen flowing through his nostrils and a high dose of antibiotics dripping into his veins. Ezra cleared his throat, but it did nothing to dispel the tension in the room.

  “I’d better be going,” he said. “I left instructions for the doctor to call me in the morning with an update.”

  Jeffrey glanced toward his father, who frowned and cut his gaze toward Rena.

  “I’m going to stay a few more minutes,” Jeffrey responded.

  Rena stepped toward the door.

  “Will you hang around?” Jeffrey quickly asked her.

  Rena hesitated. Ezra held up his hand.

  “No need to walk out with me,” he said. “We can talk later.”

  Rena stopped. As soon as Ezra left, Jeffrey stepped closer to her.

  “Do you still have the list of companies I gave you?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Uh, it’s somewhere. I’m not sure. Why?”

  “Find it and give it back to me. I’ve decided to take a different approach in dealing with my father.”

  “Fine. I don’t need it. I’ve decided not to file for divorce.”

  “Really?” Jeffrey asked in surprise. “Why not?”