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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

“He says he wasn’t there. That he left the restaurant and went home.”

She crossed her arms. “What home? He’d been evicted from his farm by Butch Renfroe and Z Bank a month earlier.”

“He was squatting on his property illegally.”

“Uh-huh. Well then, what else did he do illegally that night?”

“He says he went straight to his farm, got drunk, and passed out.”

“But he has no one to support that.” She paused. “So let’s recap. He has no alibi. A dumpster full of motive. And he owns the same make of truck that Bonita Spencer saw the night of the murder.”

“He doesn’t own a .44 Magnum.”

“Wouldn’t need one. He could’ve used the General’s.” She slapped her hands together. “Bo, you’re biased because Booker T. is your cousin. That prejudice may cost the General her life.”

“I believe him,” Bo said, finally removing his gaze from the ceiling and looking at her.

For almost a minute, there was silence. Lona walked to the door and stepped in the opening to the hallway. She peered back at him with eyes that radiated intensity. “Face the facts, Bo. We’re fifteen hours away from trial, and our best alternative theory is that Booker T. Rowe killed Butch. He had motive, means, and opportunity, which are the three things you keep harping on that we need.” She paused. “You have to call him as a witness, even if he’s hostile.”

“I can’t,” Bo said.

“You must,” Lona said. “It’s the best chance the General has, and you owe it to her to put it out there.” She paused. “Bo, you’re a good man and a great lawyer. You know I’m right. You know it.”

61

61

An hour later, Bo turned up the gravel driveway to Walton Farm. He was now driving a silver Chevy Tahoe with black rims, which he’d purchased from the Howard Bentley dealership in Fayetteville a couple of days after his Sequoia had exploded. He liked the SUV, and he’d received the blessing of T. J., who said it was “badass.” But as he slowly meandered up the path toward the “Big House,” Bo was thinking about another truck that came into view when he crested the hill.

Booker T. Rowe’s black Ford F-150 was parked by the barn. Bo cut the ignition and hopped out of his vehicle, walking toward his cousin’s truck with equal parts dread and desperation. He inspected the front and side windows and walked around to the back. Feeling his heartbeat racing, Bo snapped several photographs of the decal he saw from a number of different angles. Then, walking back one hundred paces, he took a few more pictures. This would be the approximate distance from Bonita Spencer’s window. Close enough, Bo thought.