Three Sides of the Tracks (29 page)

Phillips rolled Bernard’s wheelchair out the gates where Danny waited.

“I’m not calling you,” he said to Danny. “Feds are going to have to take
this one.”

Phillips faced the judge. “I apologize to the court, Your Honor. I wasn’t
completely aware of Mr. Davis’ medical condition. That’s all I have, Your Honor.”

Judge Gilbert had a serious frown on his face. “To arrest a citizen on
the flimsy evidence you’ve presented is a flagrant abuse of the justice system.
I ought to bring you up before the Bar. The only reason I’m not is because this
is the first time you’ve come before me in such an unprofessional manner.”

“Sir, as I said or should have said, there are extenuating circumstances
that prevent me from—”

“Such as?”

“I’m not at liberty to say because to do so might jeopardize other
investigations, sir.”

The judge looked at Jessie. “Mr. Whitaker, I’m ordering all charges
against you dropped with apologies from the court. You’re free to go after a
little paperwork is completed.”

A big grin spread across Jessie’s face, and he slapped Morrison on the
back. “Imagine them trying to pull that on me? On me. Jessie Whitaker. You did
good too, Charlie.”

Morrison hid his disgust. “Thank you, Jessie. I hope you still think so
after you receive my bill.”

“Hell, don’t worry about that. Just come when I call. That’s all you need
to worry about.”

Morrison forced himself to concentrate on his files as he stuffed them
into his briefcase.

*  *   *

Danny wheeled Bernard back to his van. “You sure you’re okay to drive,
Bernard, and don’t want me to ride with you and get my car later?”

“I’m cool, bud. I saw where that was headed. Just messin’ with their
heads a little bit, but keep that to yourself,” Bernard said and winked. “See
you later.”

Danny watched Bernard drive off in his VA-supplied van then got in the
Taurus Bernard gave him and went home.

*    *   *

Jessie went to the clerk of court’s office and demanded his bond money
immediately.

“Mr. Whitaker, the judge’s order of disposition of the case will have to
be processed and the check issued. I can’t just write a check for a million
dollars and hand it to you.”

“You minimum wage hussies love it when you have a little power, don’t
you? Here,” Jessie said, reaching in his pocket and shoving a $20 bill through
the window, “buy you some new lipstick. You remind me of Miss Boo.”

Jessie’s elation at the dismissal dissipated on the way to his car. Slink
had obviously hoodwinked him, or that hair lip would be dead by now. His
thoughts turned to whether Deadhead and Iggy were up to the task or whether he
should go to New York or Miami and hire someone. But that would be risky. One
thing’s for sure though, he told himself. That hair lip won’t see another
birthday.

Jessie closed the car door and cranked it up. He turned his head to see
whether any traffic was coming and caught sight of Bernard leaning against the
side of his van, parked at a gas station about 50 yards away. He had a big grin
on his face and held a grayish tube in his hands, which he raised and pointed
toward Jessie.

Jessie swore under his breath. “What the hell is that fool doing?” Then
he saw the trail of smoke coming from the gray tube.

The LAWS rocket hit Jessie’s car with an explosion that blew the doors
off and lifted the car a foot off the ground. A fireball rose into the air that
drew the attention of people a mile away.

Scattered body parts were all that remained to bury.

50

Break

Stuart Hathaway parked against the curb in front of Belinda’s house. Houses
on that street were built with small or almost nonexistent front yards leaving
plenty of room in back for trees and workshops.

He sat for a moment composing himself and thinking of what he could
possibly say to make up for almost 20 years of silence, then took a deep breath
and opened the door with a trembling hand.

Stuart normally walked upright and square shouldered, but today his steps
were slow and his shoulders drooped with the weight he carried.

Belinda opened the door before he knocked.

“Hi, Daddy. I saw you through the window. Come in.”

Encouraged by her smile, Stuart opened his arms and wrapped them around
Belinda. He was unprepared for the sobs coming from deep within his chest.
Although a few inches taller than her, his frame seemed to shrink to fit hers
as they clutched each other cheek to cheek.

The regret welling out of him felt so good, so right, that Stuart didn’t
try to hold back. He just let it run its course. His daughter’s touch awakened
his memory of how the embrace of a loved one fed the heart’s need for
companionship.

“It’s okay, Daddy. It’s okay,” he heard her say through her own sniffles
as she rubbed his back.

“Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you and that boy?”

“Daddy, it was never my place to forgive you. I chose to do what I did. I
knew full well how it would turn out. I will say I didn’t know how much it
would hurt sometimes, but it wasn’t because of you. More to do with Martin than
anything else. I’ve been so sad since he died. At least while he was alive, I
could love him even though I couldn’t be with him. But now. Now, I feel empty.
But seeing you helps. It really does.”

“That means the world to me, Daughter.
You
mean the world to me. I
left your mother. I couldn’t stand one more day of her vile.”

Belinda looked shocked. “Where are you staying? Do you need some place to
stay? You can stay here, if you want.”

“No, no. MJ and Delores put me up in their guest house. For now. I’m just
taking it day by day.” He grinned as he wiped his face with a handkerchief.
“I’m finding it quite relaxing to not give a damn.”

“Daddy!”

“Let’s sit down. I don’t know who looked more shocked: you just now or
your mother when I stormed out of the house.”

They sat on the couch together. Stuart leaned back and Belinda perched on
the edge facing him.

“What about my grandson? Think there’s a chance of repairing that
damage?”

“He has a lot of resentment, but he’s not the type person to hold a
grudge if he thinks someone is sincerely sorry. At least when it comes to his
own troubles. When it comes to me, he’s a little less forgiving. He still wants
to punch Reverend Holcomb,” Belinda said with a smile.

“
I
want to punch Reverend Holcomb,” Stuart said.

“Maybe that’s something you two have in common you can build on.” 

“Where is he?”

“He and his girlfriend are out back washing cars, I think. They were the
last time I looked.”

“Same young lady who came to the funeral?”

Belinda nodded.

“She remind you of anyone?”

Belinda cocked her head.

“Oh, don’t look so innocent. You know who I mean.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I didn’t know who she was till later. I almost swallowed my
teeth when MJ told me. Not many around with that kind of moxie.”

Belinda tossed back her head and laughed.

“Come on. I think this would be a good time to start breaking the ice. If
you’re game?” Belinda said with a mischievous smile.

The smile left Stuart’s face and a hint of trepidation replaced it.

“What’s the matter? Don’t have the
moxie
?”

That brought back the impish smile along with a chuckle. “Guess I can’t
let a gal outdo me, huh? Come on. But you have to be my bodyguard.”

“Sure. I’m with you.”

Belinda slipped her arm through her father’s as they walked through the
house and out the back door.

51

Visiting Bernard

Danny drove to the Atlanta VA Medical Center where Bernard was undergoing
psychiatric treatment.

He’d been to visit him once before, shortly after Jessie’ death, but, as
soon as Bernard saw him, he began raving that Danny was a Viet Cong undercover
agent out to kill him, and the nurses asked him to leave—but not before Bernard
managed a surreptitious wink.

Danny took the elevator to the fifth floor where the psychiatric unit was
located and told the nurse who he was and whom he wanted to visit.

“I’ll ask Mr. Davis if he wants to see you before I buzz you in. Don’t
want a repeat of the last time,” the nurse said.

Danny nodded and leaned against the wall while he waited.

Only a few moments passed before he saw Bernard rolling up the hall in
his wheelchair and grinning from ear to ear.

The nurse had a smile too as she buzzed open the heavy locked door and
let Danny inside.

Danny bent down to hug Bernard, but Bernard stood and grabbed Danny in a
fierce bear hug.

“Dang, bud, I’m shore glad to see you. Tired of talking to these
fruitcakes all the time.”

“You look great, Bernard. They must have good food here.”

“Well, it’s regular. Can’t say it’s all that good, but it’ll do. It’ll
do. Come on down to my room. Got one all to myself, and we can talk plain.”

Danny followed him down the hall, the smell of high-power cleaner and
bleach irritating his nose and eyes. “Keep this place clean, huh?”

“Yeah. Lot better than it used to be. Right after the Nam it was crap.
Pull you up a chair,” he said when they reached his room.

“So did that diary help?” Danny asked, a grin creeping across his face.

“Haha. Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”

Danny cocked his head as the grin grew wider. “Having that judge testify
you weren’t of sound mind during Mr. Whitaker’s hearing might’ve helped a
little too.”

“Well, I gotta admit you got that one right, but, hell, I think ole Bart
Phillips wudda give me a medal anyhow.” Bernard’s eyes glittered with a
conspiratorial look. “Even without my diary. What gave me away?”

“Come on, Bernard. You made such a fuss over the VA telling you to keep
track of your episodes and spells that the first thing I thought of was that
diary. Then I remembered some of the things you said at the hearing and put two
and two together. I figured you would have said more but didn’t want to get me
involved in case anything went down. You played me pretty good, didn’t you?”

Bernard pointed a bony finger. “Don’t get uppity now, Mr. Smarty Pants. I
just figured you’d be smart enough to, as you say, ‘put two and two together’
and take the diary to Phillips or my lawyer if I’d of had one. Got to give you
credit though. You’ve been a good pardner. Good to have a pard what tells it
like it is. Fella needs a pal like that. And you been a good one.” His eyes
misted up as he finished.

Danny leaned over and patted Bernard’s knee. “Bernard, you’ve been my
best friend since I was little. You know that.”

Bernard’s head drooped so Danny wouldn’t see the tears running down his
cheeks. He wiped his face with a sleeve, sniffled a few times, and looked up.
“You know ole Bart Phillips took that insanity plea without a fight. I think he
was glad I did it. Course he wouldn’t ever say that.”

“Why didn’t you just shoot him with a rifle or something?”

“Hell, bud, do you know how long I been waitin’ to use that rocket
launcher? Bought that thang off a guy what smuggled it out of Nam. Wasn’t sure
it’d still work, but it shore did, huh?” Bernard chuckled. “That SOB won’t be
hiring no more hit men.”

Danny laughed along with him. “Nope. Hit men or anything else. A couple
people saw you with that tube and knew what it was and took videos with their
cell phones. It was even on the Internet. One minute Jessie was there and then
that rocket hit, and Jessie was just gone. One side of the car lifted up
several feet. I mean it was a huge blast. I copied some videos for you, if you
want to see them when you get out.”

Bernard’s eyes sparkled and he nodded eagerly. “You bet I do. Say, how’d
your gal friend take it?”

“Kind of hard to say. She hated him, but, still, he was her father. I
think she’s disappointed he was the way he was, but she knew he would never
change, so . . .” Danny shrugged.

“How you and her gettin’ on?”

“Great. Mom says that Caroline and I remind her of her and Dad’s
relationship. One day they were best friends, then all of a sudden it turned to
something else. Now that I have some money I’m gonna get this dang lip fixed.”

“Good for you, pard. Good for you.”
“Oh yeah, I hate to tell you, but they took your guns. They had guys with metal
detectors going all over the house.”

A big grin lit Bernard’s face. “They took
some
of my guns. Those
bozos got what I wanted them to get if they ever came lookin’. They couldn’t
find all my stuff even if they bulldozed the place down. Hahahahaha.”

“Wanna give me a hint?”

“Strictly between me and you. Don’t go braggin’ to nobody.”

Danny nodded.

“Let’s just say my hot water heater don’t work.”

Danny shook his head and chuckled.

“And that’s not the only place neither. I still got enough stuff to put
on a little show if I want. Cops mess with me they’ll get what they got last
time. Speakin’ of that, I got a card from a pal of yores. Look on the bed
stand.”

Danny lifted a stack of correspondence and picked up a postcard.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

The postcard was a photograph of a bearded mustached man surrounded by
three dark-haired beauties under an umbrella on a beach. The man held up a shot
glass as if he were toasting someone. “
Get well soon. Read all about it on
the Web
,
S
.”

“Well, I’ll be. He got away. Has he always been that lucky?”

“Yeah, Stink, Stick, Slink, whatever he calls himself, is as lucky as he
is rotten. ‘Get well soon,’ my butt. He’s just showin’ off with all those gals
around him. But I guess between me and him, we give ole Whitaker his due.”

“That you did, Bernard. That you did.”