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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

Booker T. gave his head a jerk. “None, but whoever he or she is, my shins will be forever grateful.” He paused. “Bo, I promise I’m going to make good on what you’re doing for me. I’ll pay back the loan and . . .” He paused and swept his eyes around the property. “. . . we’ll figure out something to do with this place.”

“I know,” Bo said, patting his cousin’s back and stepping up into his vehicle. He turned the key and rolled down the window, gazing at his cousin, who had placed his enormous hands on the window seal.

“You going to be around?” Booker T. asked. “I mean, I never even asked you why you’re back in town.”

“I never had a chance to tell you. I was too busy getting my ass kicked and then trying not to get killed.”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m representing General Lewis.”

“The General?” Booker T. wrinkled up his face. “She in some kind of trouble?”

Bo frowned at him. “Haven’t been paying much attention to the news lately, have you?”

“Been out of sorts . . . as you saw last night.”

Bo coughed and rubbed his lip. “She’s been charged with the murder of her ex-husband, Butch Renfroe. Did you know him?”

Booker T. blinked his eyes and peered down at the gravel driveway. “I did.”

“With all your dealings with Z Bank, did you have much contact with Butch?”

Booker T. nodded, his eyes still lowered. “Yep.”

“How?”

“He gave me my loan.” Booker T. raised his eyes to Bo’s. “And he wouldn’t give me an extension despite how many times I asked. I didn’t figure Michael Zannick would grant me any mercy, but I’d known Butch for a lot of years. I thought he’d help me, but he wouldn’t budge.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Bo asked. He’d forgotten about the soreness in his ribs and lip.

“Monday.”

“This past Monday. April 1?”

“April Fools’ Day,” Booker T. said, gazing past Bo to his truck.

“He was killed that night. Did you know that?”

“He was very much alive the last time I saw him.”

“And where was that?”

Booker T. kept his eyes on his truck. “Sounds like you might be suspicious of me.”

“Should I be?”

Booker T. arched his neck and started to walk away. “Thanks for your help, Bo.”

“Booker T., we aren’t finished here!”

He looked over his shoulder at Bo. “We are for now.”

30

30

When Bo parked in front of the office, he saw Sack Glover standing outside his door holding a manila envelope in his hand. Bo glanced at the dash: 7:35 a.m. He climbed out of the Sequoia and peered at the acting district attorney general. “Awful early, dog.”