Page 53 of The Devil's Advocate

‘Eddie, if I end up getting married again, you’re gonna owemefive hundred grand,’ said Harry.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’m good for it.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

EDDIE

The sight of Andy Dubois, stumbling up the stairs from the cells, put a brick of pure rage in my stomach. He was so thin, and weak, Bloch had to almost carry him up. There were sores on his ankles, elbows and hands, from rubbing against the concrete floor.

When Patricia saw him up close, it was all too much for her. The combination of joy at having her son in her arms, and realizing the emaciated, sick young man he had become sent her wailing in pain and relief.

‘How’d you get so damn skinny? Did they feed you in there?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t like none of the food. There was something sharp in my mash potatoes. It cut my tongue, made me bleed from my behind,’ he said.

Her eyes narrowed, unsure of what this meant. I knew exactly what it meant, but I would never tell her. The Sunville County deputies had been putting crushed glass in Andy’s food. Any wonder he wasn’t eating.

She held him close, and half carried him toward the front door. Harry was in the car, waiting to take them home. I didn’t see Kate with him.

He rolled down the window as I approached.

‘Where’s Kate?’

‘She’s gone to pick something up for me from the hotel.’

It had taken a bit of time to get Andy’s bail processed. The forms completed and his property returned. As I opened the door to the SUV, I saw Kate, turning the corner, with a brown paper package in her hands. The Chanterelle was only a ten-minute walk from the courthouse. She gave the package to Harry, who thanked her and put it in the glove box. Kate got into the SUV. Bloch and I would walk back down the street, get into my rented Prius and meet them at Patricia’s house.

Patricia had to lift Andy into the back seat. He’d only walked the guts of five hundred yards and he was covered in sweat. Not from the sun, though. Andy was used to the sun. This was from sheer physical exertion of moving a body with no fuel in the tank.

Bloch drove the Prius, following Harry along the back streets, then out onto the highway and then the dirt back roads with ghost communities surrounding Buckstown.

We arrived at Patricia’s house just as the sun began to dip behind the tall trees that surrounded her property. There was no welcome party from the cops or any white nationalist thugs. For now, Andy could get some food and some rest.

Andy and Patricia went inside with Bloch. I got out and approached Harry and Kate. Kate was outside the SUV, getting some air. Harry remained in the driver’s seat, the window open.

‘What’s in the brown paper package?’ I asked.

‘You don’t want to know,’ said Kate.

‘Well now I need to know. How come you had to pick it up?’

‘Because Harry isn’t registered at the hotel. He needed a name that was checked-in to the hotel before the courier would agree to accept it.’

‘Harry, what’s going on?’ I asked.

He leaned over to the glove box, took out the package and unwrapped it. Inside was a rosewood box. Handmade, about the size of a foldedNew York Times. He opened the lid to reveal a Colt 1911 and a magazine, held in place with a foam inlay.

‘I called Denise this morning. Asked her to get this couriered to me urgently,’ said Harry.

‘You called her after we inspected the site where they found Skylar’s body, didn’t you?’

Harry didn’t reply. He had that look again. The same one he’d had this morning.

‘That really rattled you, didn’t it.’

‘This is my service weapon,’ said Harry. ‘It’s older than you, but more reliable. I feel better having it on me. This pistol and I have been through some rough jungle.’

He closed his eyes, lifted the gun clear from the box, loaded it and pulled back the slide, chambering a round. Soon as he heard that slide licking a bullet into the firing chamber, his shoulders dropped, he breathed out and slowly opened his eyes.