"The grand jury has indicted
your mother," Johnny Mack said. "She needs all of us to stay calm
and focused on getting her out of this mess. She needs you to act like a
man now, Will, and not some whiny kid. Can you do that? Can you be the man your
mother has raised you to be?"
Chapter 14
Glenn Manis swigged on a can of
Miller Lite as he ground his wide behind into the old recliner. Grabbing
the TV remote control, he belched loudly. While he flipped through
the stations, searching for an interesting sporting event or a show
about hunting or fishing, he occasionally glanced back over his shoulder
to see if Jackie had finished up in the bathroom. She had left the door
partially open, so he could see a glimpse of the shower. Jackie liked
to pretend she was sexy and that giving him a peek at her naked body emerging
from her bath drove him wild. Her skinny body didn't exactly drive him crazy,
but what she could do with her talented mouth sure as hell did.
He had been dating Jackie for a
year now, and sometimes he thought about asking her to marry him. After
all, neither of them were getting any younger, and if he hadn't done any
better than Jackie by now, the odds were that he never would. Besides,
he'd rather have a skinny, ugly wife who was good in bed than a better looking
one who was as cold as ice.
Jackie was no prize. But then neither
was he. In school he had been the dumpy, goofy geek who couldn't get a date.
And Jackie had been the bug-eyed, bean pole white trash girl who no man would
look at twice. But by the time she was sixteen, she had figured out a
way to gain male attention. She bleached her hair, started stuffing
her bra, stopped wearing panties and started putting out. And every guy
in town soon learned where to go to get a top-notch blow job.
Back then, he hadn't been romantically
interested in Jackie. The girl he had tried his damnedest to make notice
him had been Sharon Hickman. Now, there had been a looker, with big
tits, a sweet ass and a face like a movie star's. And he had heard there
wasn't nothing Sharon wouldn't do in the sack. But except for Johnny Mack
Cahill, who had dipped his quill in just about every ink well in town, the
only guys Sharon paid attention to were the boys from Rich Man's Land.
Of course, the girl he had dreamed
about, fantasized about throughout his teenage years, had been one
of the most unattainable girls in town. Mary Martha Graham. The angel.
He didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful girl in his life. Not
even Sharon Hickman. But as far as he knew, the only guy Mary Martha had
ever dated was Buddy Lawler.
Suddenly the words of a TV news reporter
brought Glenn back into the present. He jerked straight up and turned up
the sound. Had he heard right? Good God almighty! The whole town had been
waiting for the news and now it was official.
"This afternoon Police Chief
Buddy Lawler arrested Lane Noble Graham for the murder of her ex-husband,
local businessman Kent Graham." The reporter continued speaking
while the station played a videotape showing Lane, shackled in handcuffs,
being brought into the police station. Buddy had his hand on her arm, guiding
her through the crowd. Behind her, two tall, dark-haired men kept pace, as
if they were guarding Lane.
"Well, I'll be damned,"
Glenn said. "That there's Johnny Mack Cahill himself. Looks like
what folks have been saying is true. He's back in Noble's Crossing to
stay."
When the videotape ended as Lane
disappeared inside the police station, the reporter continued his
coverage of the biggest scandal to hit Noble's Crossing in the past
fifty years.
"Representing Ms. Graham is renowned
trial lawyer, Quinn Cortez, whom our sources say flew in from Houston,
via private plane, this afternoon. As most of you will recall, Mr. Cortez
made a name for himself six years ago, when as a young lawyer only a year
out of law school, he was chosen by the Latin singer, Paco Urbano, to defend
him in the sensational murder trial of his live-in girlfriend. Despite
all the evidence against Urbano, Cortez was able to persuade the jury
that the Hispanic heartthrob was innocent. Mr. Cortez has become famous-or
in some opinions, infamous-for having never lost a case.
"And as to the other man seen
with Ms. Graham- that's former Noble's Crossing resident Johnny Mack Cahill.
Our sister CBS station in Houston tells us that Cahill is now a multimillionaire
entrepreneur, well known in Houston's social circles as a generous
philanthropist as well as a business shark, who possesses the Midas
touch.
"What is Cahill's connection
to the Graham murder case, you might ask? Noble's Crossing residents who
knew Cahill as a young man say a better question to ask is what is Cahill's
connection to Ms. Graham and just how personal is their relationship?"
"Well, I'll be damned,"
Glenn repeated. "Ain't this a kick in the butt. The press is gonna have
a field day with this one."
''What are you mumbling about out
there?'' Jackie, wearing nothing but a towel, stood in the bathroom doorway,
one hand on the door facing and the other on her scrawny hip.
"Come here, honey pie."
Glenn motioned with his flabby arm. "You're not gonna believe this.
They just arrested Lane for Kent's murder and-"
''That's not news. The whole town's
been expecting as much ever since Wes Stevens sent the evidence to a
grand jury." Jackie sashayed into the living room, a come-hither
smile on her face. "Folks are laying odds against her, you know. They
think that whether or not she killed Kent, she'll be convicted. Seems Miss
Edith wants to see her go down."
"Well, Miss Edith just might
not get what she wants this time."
"What makes you say
that?" Jackie plopped down in Glenn's lap and wrapped her arm around
his thick neck.
Glenn readjusted his body in the
brown vinyl chair, enough so that he could place Jackie's ass directly
over his dick. Maybe if she would squirm around a bit, he'd get hard. And
if that didn't work, he would just let her talented fingers put him in the
mood.
"Seems Lane's done gone and
got herself a high-priced lawyer."
"Who's that?" Jackie loosened
the towel she had draped around her and let it fall to her waist.
He wouldn't hurt Jackie's feelings
for nothing in this world, so there was no way he could tell her that the
sight of her fried egg tits didn't do a damn thing for him. ''Quinn Cortez,
that's who."
"Quinn Cortez? He's sure going
to cost her a pretty penny. That guy's fee must be at least a million for a
murder case."
"Well, Lane's rich, ain't she?
And if she runs out of cash, Johnny Mack shouldn't have no trouble picking
up the tab. That reporter says our Noble's Crossing's bad boy done made
himself a fortune out in Texas."
"Good for Johnny Mack. Good
for all of us nobodies from this side of the Chickasaw River if we can
find a way to get rich." She licked a circle around Glenn's ear.
"Let me tell you a little secret. I've got a way of making us a small
fortune." Jackie lifted her hips enough to whip the towel off and
toss it onto the floor. "How'd you like for us to honeymoon in Vegas
with two million bucks?"
Glenn unzipped his pants, grasped
Jackie's hand and slid it inside his briefs. "What are you talking
about? How do you think you can get your hands on two million dollars?"
She circled his penis and began
a slow, practiced motion that soon elicited a groan from Glenn.
"That's for me to know and you to find out. I just happened upon some
information that certain people are going to want kept quiet, and I
know for a fact those people are going to be willing to pay me to keep my
mouth shut."
"You're talking about blackmail,
Jackie Jo."
"I sure am, sweetie. Blackmail
that's going to make me rich."
* * *
"Why can't you get Mama out of
jail tonight?" Will glared at his father. "I thought you were
going to help her."
Johnny Mack felt as helpless as
Will did. The thought of Lane spending even one night in jail enraged
him. Damn, was there no justice in this world? A woman like Lane didn't
belong behind bars. Hell, even if she had actually murdered Kent-and he
now believed she hadn't-she shouldn't be treated like a criminal. Fingerprinted.
Photographed. Interrogated. Instead, she should be given a medal
for ridding this world of vermin like Kent Graham.
"I'm willing to do anything
to help your mother."
"It doesn't look like it
from where I stand," Will accused.
"Then, you're wrong," Quinn
Cortez said. "Your father hired me to defend Lane and-"
"He's not my father! He hasn't
earned the right to be a part of my life or Mama's life."
Will's cheeks flamed. Moisture
shimmered in his eyes. Johnny Mack sensed that the boy was close to tears
and was trying valiantly not to cry in front of Quinn and him. Johnny Mack
hadn't ever thought of himself as paternal, but every instinct within
him wanted to grab Will, hold him tight and find a way to make him believe
that everything was going to be all right.
"Your problems with Johnny
Mack are none of my concern. That's something the two of you will have to
work out," Quinn said. "But the two points I wanted to make in
order to explain that your… that Johnny Mack is helping Lane are these:
Number one, he's paying my fee, and believe me, I don't come cheap. And
number two, I'm the best at what I do, I and if anyone can gain your mother
an acquittal, I can, and Johnny Mack knows it."
"Just because you've got an
ego the size of Texas doesn't mean you can keep Mama from being convicted."
Holding his tightly balled fists close to his hips, Will glowered at Quinn
as if daring him to disagree.
Quinn's lips twitched in a hint of
a smile as he glanced at Johnny Mack. "This kid's yours alright. Not
only does he look just like you, but he's got your kick-ass attitude,
too."
Avoiding glancing directly at his
son, Johnny Mack nodded, agreeing with Quinn's statement. Without commenting,
Will stormed out of the room, into the foyer and up the stairs. Quinn
shrugged.
Lillie Mae brought in a silver coffeepot
and two china cups. Surveying the room, she asked, "Where's
Will?"
"He went upstairs,"
Johnny Mack said.
"Did you two get into another
argument?" She placed the tray on the desk in the den.
"Nothing serious."
Johnny Mack walked over, poured coffee into the two cups and picked up
one. "Will's upset about Lane's arrest. He wants somebody to blame
for the fact she's in jail, and I just happen to be a convenient target."
Lillie Mae picked up the second
cup and carried it over to Quinn. "Are you going to be able to get Lane
out of jail in the morning?"
"As soon as the judge sets bail,
she'll be free to go. But it seems the judge couldn't be reached tonight,
so we have no choice but to wait."
"Judge Harper is an old friend
of Edith's." Lillie Mae spat out the other woman's name.
"So are Judge Gillis and Judge
Welch." Johnny Mack knew how things worked in this county. It would take
a miracle for Lane to get a fair trial, but there was no way to prove
that Edith Ware was calling in favors and using whatever means at her disposal
to make sure Lane didn't get an even break.
"I've had to deal with situations
like this before," Quinn told them. "With no more evidence
than Wes Stevens has against Lane, I can make a jury see that she isn't guilty
beyond a reasonable doubt."
"I won't let that girl go to
prison." Lillie Mae shot a quick glance in Johnny Mack's direction.
"Before I see that happen, I'll confess to murdering Kent
myself."
"Did you kill him, Mrs. Hickman?"
Quinn asked.
"What?" Lillie Mae swirled
around, her eyes wide, her hands trembling as she faced Quinn.
"You had almost as much reason
to hate Kent as Lane did." Quinn lifted the cup to his lips and sipped
the rich, black coffee. "Will's your grandson. You would have done
anything to protect him, just as Lane would have. Am I right?"
"You're right. I would have
done anything… and I still would." Lillie Mae stuck out her chin and
looked Quinn square in the eye. "If it'll help Miss Lane's case, you
put me on the stand and show that jury that it could just as easily have been
me who took that baseball bat and beat the living daylights out of
Kent."
Johnny Mack placed his hand on Lillie
Mae's shoulder. "I know Lane would appreciate what you're trying to
do, but you didn't kill Kent and-"
"How do you know I
didn't?" With that said, Lillie Mae turned and walked out of the den.
"What do you make of that?"
Quinn asked.
"I'm not sure."
"Do you think the old woman could
have done it?"
"At this point, I'm not sure
of anything much," Johnny Mack admitted. "Except that upstairs"-he
inclined his head toward the ceiling-"I have a son who hates me.
And across town in the city jail, I have a woman who's depending on
me."