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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

“—doesn’t believe the General will budge, and neither does Mr. Zannick.” Finn paused. “Lou is also cracking up. He drinks too much, and he’s been beaten too many times by the prosecutor. He’s become a liability.”

“He’s the best criminal defense attorney in town.”

“So you say.”

“No one has had more success defending cases in Giles County than Lou.”

“You’re wrong. There’s a black man named Haynes that most of the town folks think is the best lawyer around.”

Butch smirked. “Well, he ain’t around anymore and hasn’t been in years. And even if he was, there’s no way that he would have represented Michael Zannick.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Booker T. Rowe is Haynes’s cousin.” Butch licked his chapped lips and peered across the table at Finn. “You remember what we’ve done to Rowe, don’t you?”

Finn didn’t say anything, but his eyes flickered with recognition.

Butch took a deep breath. Though the floors, tables, and stages had been scrubbed clean this morning by a crew, he could still make out the faint smell of cheap beer and stripper perfume that was ever present during business hours. “Lou Horn was and is our best option. Besides . . .” He sighed and glanced at the sawdust floor. “. . . Lou has skin in the game just like me. He knows what’s at stake.”

For several seconds, the dark club was quiet. Butch could literally hear his heart beating as he gazed at the two-by-four, which Finn still held in an upright position.

“Assuming Lou fails, are you ready to do what you have to do?” Finn asked, smiling. His eyes held not a trace of humor.

“Yes,” Butch said.

“You better,” Finn said, standing from his chair and poking the end of the stick into Butch’s stomach. “Unless you want to finish this day in the morgue.” He gave the piece of lumber a firm jab, and Butch felt the wind go out of him. He sprawled forward and clutched his abdomen as his chin brushed against the rough wooden table.

As Finn walked away, Butch struggled to regain his breath and thought of what he must do if and when Lou failed. Then another realization hit him even harder than Finn Pusser’s lumber stick.

“We’re all going to fail,” Butch whispered, closing his eyes and cursing his own stupidity as the inevitability of what was about to happen sank in.

I’m a dead man . . .

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