BooksBarbecue
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

“All right, damnit. All right.” Bo tried to sit up and found that the side of his face was stuck to the damp and muddy ground. Wrenching himself free, he sat up and rubbed his face, feeling the sting from his makeshift pillow of wet dirt and grass. His head felt like it had marbles in it from all the bourbon and beer he’d consumed the night before. He blinked his eyes and got his bearings. He was sitting in a clearing on the northern tip of the farm, just a few feet away from a large headstone. Bo leaned forward and crawled on his knees a couple of feet until he could reach the concrete marker. Even now, as he read the name of the man buried here, he felt a ripple of sadness envelop him.

“Thomas Jackson McMurtrie,” Bo said out loud, the words sounding like they were being filtered through sandpaper. He swallowed, and his mouth tasted of bile. Had he thrown up last night? He couldn’t remember, but based on how his stomach felt at the moment, a bout of nausea could very well be on the way.

“I sure have made a mess of things, Professor,” Bo said, tapping his hand softly on the grave. Last night, he and Lee Roy had walked through the driving rain the mile and a half to the grave, but Bo couldn’t remember anything about the walk other than collapsing at the foot of the headstone when he arrived, exhausted from the day’s events. He was sure he’d cried, but he couldn’t remember that either.

Bo pondered what the General had said the night before. Tom would be ashamed of what you’ve let yourself become . . .

Bo felt coarseness on his fingers and looked down to see Lee Roy licking his hand. The dog, too, was peering at the grave. Lee Roy was once Tom’s dog, and one of the Professor’s last requests was for Bo to take care of him.

“Lee Roy’s doing really good, Professor,” Bo said. “You probably wouldn’t be proud of me, but you would be of him. He’s kept me good company this past year.”

Bo looked at his clothes. He was still wearing the shirt and suit pants that he’d worn to court the day before. They were now filthy with grass and mud stains. Ruined, Bo thought, just like his life.