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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

Helen felt her pulse quicken and turned into the parking lot of Carr & Erwin Funeral Home. She doubted Butch’s body had arrived here yet, but by the end of the day, it would. Gripping the wheel, she fought back tears, knowing that time was in short supply.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to take several deep breaths. When she finally opened them, she unclicked the glove compartment. The revolver wasn’t there.

Sweat beads percolated on Helen’s neck and forehead as she gazed into the opening. All she saw was her car registration materials. She looked away and slowly began to count. A thousand one, a thousand two . . .

When she reached ten, she looked again. There was still no gun.

A guttural moan escaped Helen’s lips. She slammed the glove box shut and again squeezed the steering wheel. She needed to be calm. Think, she told herself. Think, damnit.

“I’m going to be charged with murder,” she said out loud, gazing over the wheel at the funeral home where her mother and father had both been laid to rest and where her ex-husband’s service would be handled in the very near future. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind over the proclamation she’d just made. The only question was how long it would take before she was brought in.

Gritting her teeth, she put the car in gear and headed out of town. When she reached the junction with Highway 64, she hung a left and drove east, passing Walton Farm, where she’d almost been killed three and a half years earlier and would have been if not for Tom McMurtrie. She soon reached Lincoln County. Once in Fayetteville, she turned south on Highway 231. If I’m gone much more than a few hours, they might see this as fleeing, she thought but didn’t care.

For the first time in her adult life, Helen Evangeline Lewis felt strung out and at the end of her rope. And she needed help.

As she passed a green sign saying WELCOME TO ALABAMA THE BEAUTIFUL, she knew it went even deeper than that.

“I need a lawyer,” she whispered.

PART TWO

PART TWO

12

12

Huntsville, Alabama, April 2, 2015

Suffice it to say, the men’s room on the eighth floor of the Madison County Courthouse would never grace the pages of Southern Living magazine. The square-shaped box had one urinal, two stalls, and a sink. The walls were gray cinder blocks, and at four o’clock in the afternoon, the tile floor looked and felt grimy after a day’s worth of use. The pungent odor of disinfectant permeated the tight space, but despite the heavy dose of cleaner, the restroom’s lone occupant could still make out the faint whiff of dried urine in the air.