by Mark Stone
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“I’m just stating facts,” Sheriff Jenkins said. “You, a two-tour veteran who stopped a robbery armed only with a bottle of champagne, were bested by two men and a Taser. You then insisted that my son, a man you brutally attacked a few hours prior, was responsible for the kidnapping so vigorously that you convinced one of my detectives to accompany you to his house.”
“Jack was at his house!” I shot back.
“Oh, I know, sir,” Sheriff Jenkins said, standing up to meet me. “And you were the only one who knew where to find him. Detective White also told me that you were against her documenting the state of my son’s body. I wonder why that might be.”
My mind flashed back to that burning house, to Mia wanting to take pictures of George in order to get to the bottom of what happened to him.
“Maybe because the whole damn place was about to fall down around us and I still hadn’t found your grandson,” I suggested.
“Where were you an hour or so before you showed up at Alexis’s house for the party that night, Mr. Lucky?” Sheriff Jenkins asked, getting to the meat of all of this.
“I was at home,” I answered firmly. “I had just moved in that day and we were still setting stuff up.”
“You and your roommate?” Sheriff Jenkins asked pointedly.
“Davey Beckman,” I answered. “He moved down here with me.”
“This is the same Davey Beckman who accompanied you to the party that night, correct?” the sheriff asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I only know the one Davey Beckman, sir,” I answered quickly.
“The same Davey Beckman who, by all accounts, disappeared from that party twenty minutes before you were found and reappeared when the ambulances showed up, just in time for you to state that you knew—without a shadow of a doubt—where my grandson could be found.” The sheriff shook his head. “Did you do all of this, Mr. Lucky? Did you murder my son after trying to paint him as a kidnapper?”
My heart jumped again. “Are you . . . are you being serious?”
Sheriff Jenkins took a step around the table and came toward me. “I’m not sure if you can tell, but I’m not exactly the kind of person who is known for his sense of humor. Of course, I’m being serious.”
“This stops now!” A voice shouted from behind me. Turning, I realized I must have been so engrossed in what was unfolding in front of me that I hadn’t even heard the door open, because a tall man with white-blond hair and a smirk on his face stood there. He wore a short-sleeved green V-neck tee, a pair of cargo shorts, and flip flops without socks. To say he looked comfortable would be an understatement.
“Parker, what are you doing here?” Sheriff Jenkins asked, eyeing the man up and down.
“You know exactly what I’m doing here, Abe. I’m taking my client with me,” the man said, settling beside me and giving me a hearty slap on the back. “Hey there, bud. Name’s Parker Kenshaw. I’m your lawyer.”
“You don’t look like a lawyer,” I answered honestly.
“And you don’t look rich, but I’m told otherwise,” he said. Then, rubbing a sliver of the fabric of my shirt between his thumb and forefinger, he added, “Seriously, somebody with seventy million in the bank should be able to do better than a cotton-poly blend. You’re embarrassing all of us.”
“You’re not even wearing socks,” I muttered instinctively.
“I was on a nighttime scuba expedition,” he said. “One I pulled out of to save your ass. So, I’d be more grateful if I were you. And don’t worry. I’ll be wearing socks if we get to a courtroom, which won’t happen, because for all his huffing and puffing, Abe here doesn’t have the evidence to blow your house down. That’s why there’s no warrant. Isn’t that right, Abe?”
“Just because there isn’t one now doesn’t mean there won’t be one very soon,” Abe said.
“And just because it’s going to be sunny tomorrow doesn’t mean the rain won’t come back some day. I keep my umbrella in the closet until I need it, and my client will keep his words to himself until such a time when you can legally compel him to share them. Now, if you don’t mind, I smell like saltwater and tequila, and I need to wash one of those things off me.” He turned to me. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“I’ll be watching you, Mr. Lucky,” Sheriff Jenkins said as I made my way to the door. “Very closely.”
“Good,” I said, anger spiking up in me. “Seeing as how I’m the only one who seemed to be able to find your grandson that night, I think you and your officers might benefit from the exercise. Watch me real closely, Abe. You might learn something.”
Chapter 13
“Not another word. I meant that,” Parker said as we walked into the parking lot of the police station. Like I said, I had been in a police station or two in my day, never for good reasons, but this was the first one I’d ever seen that was within spitting distance of a beach. In fact, as I took a deep breath of cool night air, the smell of salt filled my nose. “I don’t care when they come. I don’t care how often them come. I don’t care if they tell you they have proof that you did whatever they say you did, you are not to open your mouth. That goes double if they arrest you. You got that, Lucky John?”
“Not a fan of that nickname,” I muttered as we made our way onto the pavement.
“I’m sure there’s a lot of things you haven’t been a fan of since you made it to our fair city. As it stands, a nickname is kind of the least of your worries,” Parker said, grinning at me. “It’s nice to meet you, by the way. I’ve heard a lot of good things.”
“Then they must all be lies,” I said, taking his hand and shaking it.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Parker answered. As he pulled his hand away, I spied a back ink dragon tattoo on his wrist that I had seen one other time since moving here.
“Interesting ink,” I said, eyeing his arm.
“It’s a pain,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “You would not believe how many judges have caught a peek of this thing from under my sleeve and scowled at me about it. You’d think they’d be a little looser about that kind of thing down here, but I guess you’d be wrong.” He shook his head. “But yeah, my sister convinced me to get it during a trip to the Keys after we graduated high school. Our father hit the damn roof when he saw them, but by then, it was way too late.”
“Alexis is your sister?” I asked, putting those very obvious pieces together.
“My twin sister, actually,” Parker said. “Why’d you think I came down here?”
“Honestly, I figured Davey called you after I got hauled off to the police station and you came running at the chance for a new client,” I admitted.
“Dude, come on,” Parker said, waving me off. “You don’t know because you’re not from here. If you were, though, you would know that I’m not the kind of lawyer who has to come running at the chance of a new client. New clients have to come running at the chance for me. There’s a reason Sheriff Tight Ass didn’t want me in that room. It’s because I’ve scored more wins against them than any other two lawyers my age. I’m very good at what I do, Lucky John. Also, it should be noted that I was on a nighttime scuba diving expedition with Eve Sanchez. Now, again, because you’re not from here, you have no idea how amazing seeing Eve Sanchez standing in front of you in a wetsuit is. Suffice it to say, I wouldn’t leave for just anybody.”
“Good to know that I’m not just anybody,” I answered.
“You’re the guy who saved my nephew,” Parker said. “That makes you a person of note in my book, and my book is a good one to be in, especially when you find yourself in the kind of boat you’re in right now.”
“About that boat,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Sheriff Jenkins seemed pretty convinced I had something to do with his son’s death. In fact, he laid out a pretty convincing set of circumstances.”
“You know what we call circumstances in the legal world?” Parker asked.
“What?”
/> “Nothing,” he said. “They don’t matter. So, we don’t talk about them. Now, I’m not going to tell you that they won’t keep looking into you, because they probably will, but you won’t be the only one they’re looking into. They don’t have any evidence against you, nothing real, anyway. I know that because you haven’t been arrested. What I don’t know, and what I need to know before this goes any further, is how you want to proceed.”
‘What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“I mean, how do you want to go about this whole ‘me being your lawyer’ thing?” Parker replied. “I know I came in there, guns blazing and all that, but I only did that because my sister told me you were in a tight spot and I didn’t want them convincing you to admit to something you didn’t do.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I replied.
“You’d be surprised how many innocent people crack after hours and hours of interrogation,” Parker said. “People don’t often realize how truly taxing the situation can be.”
“I was held captive by enemy combatants for three days in the desert. I had no food, very little water, and when they went away, they tied me to a pair of wooden planks and left me to die.”
“So, I mean, you might have some idea,” Parker said. “The point is, I never actually asked you the question. I never gave you a choice about whether you want me to represent you. If you do, you’ll get the ‘saved my nephew’s life’ discount—I’ll do it for free—but don’t feel any obligation to pick me. Like I said, I’ve always got Eve Sanchez in a wetsuit to fall back on.”
I took another deep breath, looking at this guy. He didn’t seem very professional. In fact, I was pretty sure he had sand in his hair. Still, there was something about the guy I liked. He was laid back, sure, but he also spoke to me in a way I could understand and I recognized the passion and determination painted across his face. He wasn’t expecting me to pay him because he thought he owed me, and that feeling just might be the thing that causes him to go the extra mile should I need it.
“How long do you think we’re in this for?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Can’t say,” he answered. “With any luck, the police department will pull their heads out of their asses and find the person actually responsible for George’s death.” He looked over at me sheepishly. “Assuming it isn’t you.”
“It’s not me,” I shot back. “He was a dick, but I wouldn’t kill him.”
“Just checking,” Parker said. “And you wouldn’t have to. He wasn’t exactly a model neighbor, George Jenkins. There were more than a few people in town who probably wanted him dead.” He reached his hand out for me to shake again. “I can’t help but notice your casual use of the word ‘we’. Does that mean my capacity as your lawyer can be deemed Facebook official?”
“I don’t know much about Facebook,” I answered, though it sounded like Parker was just using that as a joke. “But let’s do this.” I grabbed the man’s hand and shook it hard.
“Sounds like a plan, Lucky John,” Parker said. “But hold on tight, my man. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Chapter 14
“See, I’m probably not the best person in the world to help you with this,” Davey said, looking at the large couch sitting in the center of my living room and tilting his head to the side. This was the third position we had tried with this particular piece of furniture, and for whatever reason, none of it looked right. In fact, none of the stuff we’d placed looked right. From the paintings on the walls to the lamps, to the tables . . . it all seemed out of place. Hell, even the television looked like it was hanging in the wrong place. In short, the whole damn house looked like it had been decorated and set up by a couple of elementary school children who had no idea what they were doing. “How’d you set everything up in your other houses?”
“I didn’t,” I answered, shrugging. “I couldn’t afford much of anything to put in them.”
“Yeah,” Davey muttered. “I keep forgetting about how poor we used to be. You know, last month.”
In truth, it had been a couple of months since I won the lottery, and it was something Davey had no part in. Still, my best friend had a way of talking about my money like it was communal property. And the thing was, that was just fine with me. I couldn’t spend all the money in my bank account if I had ten lifetimes to do it, and what was more, I had no desire to. Money was good. Sometimes, money was great, but it wasn’t what life was about, and if I had to decide, I’d take my friend over the seventy million. I remembered life without both of them, and one was definitely harder to swallow than the other.
“Why don’t you just hire somebody?” Davey asked. “I’m sure there are people in town who could waltz right in here and make it look a thousand times better.” He looked around the room again, his mouth frowning in disapproval. “Not that it’d be hard.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Money or not, there are some things a man ought to be able to do by himself. I’d figure setting up his house should be one of them.”
‘I mean, I guess,” Davey said. “Though maybe, you’ve got enough on your plate for the moment. Maybe we give this to somebody else for now.”
I didn’t need to read my friend’s face to know what he was talking about. It was the thing I was trying to forget, the only thing that had been on my mind in the few days since I had been pulled down to the police station to answer questions. I might very well be days away from being arrested for murder.
“It’s fine,” I said, turning my head and walking toward a huge, sprawling kitchen that both Davey and I knew we’d never use, apart from maybe the microwave and coffeemaker.
‘It’s not fine, dude,” Davey answered, following me. “It’s a big deal, and I feel bad about my part in it.”
“Would you shut up about that?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You didn’t have a part in it.”
“Tell that to that stupid ass sheriff you talked to,” Davey said. “He thinks I’m part of this, right? That’s what he said, isn’t it? He accused me of sneaking out and taking out George, if I’m not mistaken.”
“He heavily insinuated it,” I replied.
“See?” Davey sighed. “And if I wouldn’t have disappeared into that pantry to make out with that hot server girl with the brown eyes, people would have seen me at the party during that time and this wouldn’t be an issue.”
“Or if you actually remembered her name so we could get her to verify your story,” I said, looking my friend up and down. “Assuming you could get her to publicly admit it actually happened.”
“Hilarious. You keep that up and we’re going to have to start calling you Funny John,” Davey sneered at me. “Besides, remembering her name assumes I knew it in the first place.”
“You dog,” I muttered.
“Takes one to know one.”
“I’m just busting your balls,” I said. “Even if you did know her name, I’m not sure it would help. I asked Alexis and it turned out her father paid those people under the table and I don’t think they were local. So, I wouldn’t hold my breath about Brown Eyes saving the day here.”
“If the day even needs to be saved,” Davey said. “Didn’t your lawyer tell you he didn’t think you were going to be arrested?” Parker chuckled. “I mean, even if you got him for free, I’d have to assume his opinion is worth something.”
“He seems to know what he’s talking about, and if Alexis is to be believed, he’s kind of a legal prodigy. Of course, he’s her twin brother. So, I’d have to imagine she’s a little biased about things.”
“You have a point,” Davey said. “Which, I guess, makes you Pointy John.”
“Stop putting adjectives in front of my name,” I answered.
“Wow. Testy John. That’s among my least favorite of the Johns.” Davey snickered.
“I love how you act like I can’t throw you out on your ass,” I said, grinning widely.
“What you can and what you will d
o are two completely different things,” Davey said. “We both know life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without me in it.” He shrugged. “Besides, I pull my own weight.”
“You keep hitting the beers like you’ve been doing lately, and that weight you’ve been pulling is going to go up,” I said.
“Some ladies like a little cushion,” he said, patting his still, admittedly, flat stomach. “Besides, what I don’t have in the looks department, I more than make up for in the ‘best friends with a millionaire’ department.”
“You do truly excel in that area,” I answered. “Now, come on. The movers finished bringing the rest of the stuff yesterday, and I don’t want all of it cluttering up the living room. Let’s move it to the attic.”
“The attic is so damn far, though, and it gets so hot down here,” Davey said, looking out the window at a Florida atmosphere that I had to admit could get a little steamier than my friend and I were used to. Still, it wasn’t like this was hard labor. I was rich and in paradise. Even with the threat of unwarranted legal action rumbling over my head like a thunder cloud, life was pretty sweet. Besides, it wasn’t like we didn’t have any experience with the heat.
“Still not as hot as the Middle East,” I offered.
“Not as dry, anyway,” Davey answered. “But I get your point.” He walked over to the absolute mess of boxes, trunks, and furniture that sat along the back wall. “Let’s start with this tiny one of yours, you know, just to work ourselves up.” He settled beside a small leather trunk with a gold band running horizontally along the top.
“That’s not mine,” I said, eyeing the luggage. “I assumed it was yours.”
“What about me makes you think I could have afforded a bound leather suitcase with gold trim?” Davey asked.
“It’s a trunk, not a suitcase,” I muttered.