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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

The sign had a gray background with a blue cross. Along both lines of the cross were the initials BCBC in white. Up close, it was easy to see the letters, but from a hundred paces away, they could easily be mistaken for the stars of the states of the Confederacy. And since Bo’s cousin had attached the sticker at a slight angle, it did look a bit like an X, especially when peering at it from the side.

“Unbelievable,” Bo whispered as he exited the Tahoe and walked toward the front door of the tiny chapel. As he had expected, the door was open. Though the storage area in back of the church was locked up, the main sanctuary was always open for those who needed to talk with God. That had been Booker T. Sr.’s rule, and the new pastor was following suit.

Bo sat on the second pew from the front, where he’d spent every Sunday of his childhood that he could remember. He gazed up at the pulpit and past it to the large wooden cross that adorned the far wall.

If Bonita Spencer was correct about the truck, then Booker T. had lied to him about not going to Butch Renfroe’s house on the night of the murder. That doesn’t mean he killed Butch. Bo’s thoughts were quick to counter the suggestion, but the nausea he felt growing in his stomach was thick and palpable. Booker T. clearly had motive. And Bonita Spencer was now set to testify that she had seen his pickup truck driving past Butch’s house during the time frame that the murder had been committed with plenty of time for Booker T. to park, go to the back of the house, and do the deed.

And with Helen’s .44 Magnum revolver being left behind in the house, Booker T. would have had the means to kill Butch in the way opined by County Coroner Melvin Ragland.

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For the next couple of hours, Bocephus Haynes sat in the second pew of the Bickland Creek Baptist Church. He thought about the case and tortured himself by going over the facts one more time.

Most of all, he prayed.

For guidance.

For strength.

For the courage to do what he believed was right.

God, please help me.

63

63

When Helen Lewis was escorted into the courtroom the next morning, she was wearing her customary black suit and black heels. As she heard the sound of her shoes clicking on the floor, she remembered knowing that the sound struck fear into the heart of many a defense attorney. Now she was the one who felt fear, and the outfit, her uniform, made her think of an officer putting on his dress blues before sticking a rifle in his mouth.