Chapters (88)
Bo took a long sip of beer, thinking the problem through in his mind. Finally, he sat on the cool grass below the grave and chuckled bitterly. “This is all fantastic, Ennis, it really is, but what am I gonna do? Are you willing to take the stand and confess to prostitution? Frannie is liable to send you right back to prison.” He drained the rest of his beer. “And even if you did take the stand, your story only implicates Lou. Terry Grimes skates free, and Terry is who we need to nail. He’s the link to Butch’s murder, not Lou.”
Bo stood up, taking the six-pack with him. “The General is right. We’re screwed.”
“I know how you can prove Terry’s involvement.”
“How, Sheriff, because your confession ain’t enough. Darla Ford was a stripper at the Sundowners, and I know she participated in the scheme, but she’ll take the Fifth if I subpoena her. And Lona Burks, who can link Terry to the ring, would be torn apart on cross with her criminal record and drug history. And Terry isn’t going to confess if I recall him, is he?”
“Bo, you shouldn’t need any of that.”
“Why?” Bo asked, the exasperation in his voice palpable.
“Because I bet Butch’s lawyer would have all of this information.”
“His lawyer? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Butch and Helen got divorced in 1995. Helen represented herself, but Butch had one of his cronies represent him.”
Bo cocked his head at the other man. “You talking about Ray Ray?”
Ennis nodded. “Ray Ray is your ace in the hole.”
Bo’s exasperation turned to anger. “Ennis, you know as well as I do that Ray Ray is dead. I can’t call him to the stand.”
“Don’t you lawyers keep files on clients?”
Bo felt another chill on his neck. “You think Ray Ray might have mentioned something about this in his file?”
“Think about it, Bo. He was representing Butch in a divorce, and a money and property settlement could have been greatly impacted if Helen ever got wind of any side money Butch was making running whores.”
Bo blinked his eyes and gazed at his father’s headstone. Not too far from this very spot was the grave of Raymond Pickalew. “His file?” Bo asked.
“Do you know where Ray Ray’s files went after he died?”
Bo thought about it for a half second, and then his face broke into a grin. “I believe I do.”
69
69
Bo dialed the number the second he got back to his car. Please answer . . .
The call was picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Bo? Is that you?”
Bo closed his eyes and said a prayer of gratitude. “My believer. Have I got a favor to ask of you.”