BooksBarbecue
Back Legacy of Lies Save as PDF
Chapters (88)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. PART ONE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. PART TWO
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. PART THREE
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. PART FOUR
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. 73
  82. 74
  83. 75
  84. 76
  85. 77
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  88. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“Yeah, dog. I look forward to hearing your explanations.” He paused. “I’m sure the jury will too.”

fleuron

A minute later, Bo brushed past the blonde-haired saleswoman, asking her as he passed, “Is my ride ready?”

“Right out front, Mr. Haynes. The keys are in the ignition.”

Bo blew her a kiss as he exited the building.

fleuron

Back in his office, Terry Grimes sucked on an inhaler and tried to remain calm. Who in the hell does he think he is talking to me like that? After catching his breath, he grabbed his phone and clicked the number for Lou Horn.

“Yeah,” Lou answered on the first ring.

“We got a problem,” Terry said.

“Zannick?”

“No,” Terry said, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Worse. Bocephus Haynes came to see me this afternoon.”

“And?”

“And he knows about the ring.”

For a long ten seconds, the only sound on the other end of the line was Lou’s ragged breathing. Then, after coughing and clearing his throat, he summed up the situation with succinct perfection. “Shit.”

54

54

Decatur, Alabama, is a midsize town that sits on the banks of Wheeler Lake along the Tennessee River. Bo had spent very little time in the town during his legal career and had to use the GPS on his phone to direct him to his private investigator’s riverfront office. Though his new car had been a means to an end—he had wanted to rile up Terry Grimes—he had to admit that the Explorer drove pretty smoothly. Regardless, he’d be returning it tonight without signing the lease.

When he exited the elevator, he saw a nondescript door with the following legend stenciled across the top: HOOPER, PI.

Bo knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, he turned the knob.

When he walked inside, he stepped into a large conference room with a huge window overlooking the water. Hooper was seated at the table wearing the same crimson Alabama cap he’d had on when he had driven Bo home the night of the custody hearing along with an oxford button-down, khaki shorts, and sandals. No one would confuse the man with Columbo. He had earbuds in his ears and a half-eaten sandwich in front of him. There were two other sandwiches on the table along with several bags of chips. The white bag that the food presumably had once been in said “Whitt’s Barbecue” in brown letters.

Seeing him, Hooper ripped off his earpieces and stood. Bo thought he could make out the sound of Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” before Hooper clicked his phone and the music ended. “Mr. Haynes.”

“Hooper.”

Bo sat down and gestured at the sack and sandwiches. “Lunch?”

“Yes, please grab a pork sandwich. Whitt’s is my favorite barbecue joint in town.”