Simon listened with his eyes closed. His own mother and stepfather wouldn’t bail him out of jail.
“I’m going to leave him, Simon, I swear. This time I’m going to leave him. I’m fed up with him.”
“Come on, Mom. Settle down. I’ll be all right.” The idea of his mother walking out and starting over at the age of seventy-three was hard to grasp, but, at the moment, he really couldn’t blame her.
“No, I mean it, Simon. This is the last straw. I’ve put at least eighty thousand dollars in CDs and it’s my money. He has no right to control it.”
Eighty thousand sounded like a million. “Mom, take a deep breath. Go for a long ride in your car. Let the moment pass.”
“I’m so sorry, Simon. I’ll keep trying.”
“I love you, Mom. I’ll see you soon, and I’ll get this mess cleared up, okay?”
“I love you too, and I’m so sorry.”
Simon followed the guard back to his cell, stretched out on his bed, and tried to read. Hours later he was still awake, wondering if he’d caused another divorce.
Chapter 38
Neither Chub nor Spade would ever voluntarily go near a jail, so the details were left to the law offices of Raymond Lassiter, with assistance from Matilda. Chub was in an expansive mood and attacking the new year with enthusiasm, now that the FBI had lost interest. He had big plans to expand his clubs and holdings and rely less on bookmaking. Being investigated by the Feds was a sobering experience. He had collected far too many legitimate assets to worry about a lengthy prison sentence.
On Thursday, Chub agreed to buy Simon’s Main Street office building for $41,000 more than the mortgages. It was a straightforward deal without a lot of paperwork, but the banks took their time, as always. Chub also agreed to allow Simon to continue using the office for six months, at no charge. Simon was thrilled with the deal and also relieved not to be homeless.
The money changed hands Friday morning and Simon said goodbye to Loomis. A week after walking into the jail, Simon walked out a free man, for the moment anyway. The chief offered to drive him to his office, but Simon did not want to be seen in another police car. He hustled away on foot, avoiding the busier streets, and even took an alley. His car was where he had parked it, nothing disturbed. He sat at his desk for a long time, taking deep breaths and reminding himself that he had just survived seven nights in jail. He had toughed it out, made the best of it, even made some friends and had some laughs. Prison would present more of a challenge, but he would worry about that later. What he really wanted was a cheeseburger and some fries. Since he wouldn’t dare show his face in a café, he drove to a Wendy’s and used the drive-thru. He ate at his desk while his cell phone charged.
After lunch, he began calling people. His mother, Paula, Tillie, Raymond, Chub, and Spade. With reluctance, he opened his laptop, stayed away from the news and social media, and read emails. There were hundreds of them, most from friends, acquaintances, and clients, all wishing him well and offering encouragement, but there were also quite a few from idiots he’d never heard of, all wishing him a painful death. He counted twenty-seven emails from reporters. On the whole, it was a depressing exercise.
At 2 P.M., as scheduled, he drove to Raymond’s office and parked in the rear, something he would be doing from then on. As usual, Raymond was red-faced and puffy-eyed from another long night, but he was wide awake and bickering with his secretaries.
He growled at Simon, “You hungry? I need some lunch.”
The burger and fries had been tasty and filling, but after a week of starvation he could eat some more. “Sure.”
“I’ll send one of the girls for sandwiches. You should stay away from the downtown joints for a while.”
Simon wasn’t looking for advice but held his tongue. He handed Raymond an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“A promissory note for one hundred ninety thousand. And a check for the other ten.”
“I wasn’t expecting this.”
“You said your fee was two hundred thousand for a first-degree murder case. I’ll pay you when I can.”
Raymond smiled and put the envelope on his desk. “We have a lot of work to do.”
“I know.”
At 4 P.M. Friday afternoon, the Cupit & Moke hearse stopped at a maroon and gold burial tent over an open grave at Eternal Springs Cemetery. Four paid pallbearers hauled the faux wooden casket to the tent where a handful of friends and neighbors waited in the cold. Doris, still banged up, struggled with her new walker. Jerry Korsak dutifully represented the family but introduced himself to no one. A rent-a-priest went through the motions, said a prayer, read some Holy Scripture, said another prayer, and tossed some dirt on the casket of a woman he had never met.
Eleanor Barnett was finally laid to rest, intact.
Leaving Braxton behind had never been so exhilarating. He could almost taste and smell the freedom. He refused to look in his rearview mirror. No one was back there.
After seven nights as a prisoner, Simon had made the firm decision that he would never again be locked up. If his streak of bad luck continued, and if he were one day faced with a lengthy sentence, he would either head for Brazil or jump off a bridge.
He pondered such things for two hours as the miles flew by. It was dark when he turned into the driveway on the western edge of Richmond. He braced himself and rang the doorbell. The door swung open, and all three kids grabbed him with bear hugs. There were tears and more hugs as they settled on a sofa in the den. Paula was gracious enough to peck him on the cheek and say, “Good to see you.” Her parents had stepped out for a long dinner, so the little Latch family could be alone. When things settled down, Simon got right to the point. He said that he was not guilty, that he would never harm another person unless in self-defense, that he had grown close to Netty and had nothing to do with her death. He had a good lawyer, the best in town, and they were confident they would prevail. He did not know who poisoned Netty but they were putting together a list of suspects. The police had stopped their investigation when he was arrested, as they always do, so it was up to him and his lawyer to find the killer. In spite of their efforts, his case would move forward and one day soon he would probably be put on trial.
Buck and Danny had a dozen questions. Janie snuggled under her father’s arm and just listened. They were in new schools in the Richmond district and struggling to adjust. Paula was desperately looking for another job, one outside Braxton. There was no way she was staying there and subjecting the children to more humiliation.
The pizza arrived and they gathered around a coffee table for dinner. Buck found an old western on cable and the kids grew quieter as they watched it and ate. After an hour, Simon and Paula bundled up and went outside. As they walked down the street, she asked, “So how was jail?” They both chuckled.
“Not that bad.”
“No gangs, no violence, great food.”
“All of the above. The chief runs a clean operation, but I’m not going back. Seven days is my max.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“How long are you staying here?”
“Not long. The bad thing about living with your parents after twenty years is that you are suddenly faced with all the quirks you had forgotten, and the quirks are far more bothersome now. I guess we forget the bad and hold on to the good. We love our parents and want them to be well-rounded people, but sometimes they don’t measure up.”
Simon had never considered her parents to be well-rounded. He said, “My mom’s filing for divorce.”
“She should’ve left Arn years ago.”
“No, she should never have married him in the first place. He caught her on the rebound, a bad one. The final straw was all about money. She had the money in the bank to help me get out of jail, but the accounts are in both names. She couldn’t touch it and he said no. Kept saying no. She issued an ultimatum, then walked out.”
“I’m proud of her.”
“She always liked you.”
“Let’s talk about something else.”
They turned onto another street and ambled along. He asked, “What are your plans?”
“I’m scrambling, Simon, as you might guess. I can’t stay here. The kids are in new schools because they have to be in school, right? But they’re about to get yanked around again when I find a job.”
“No way you’re going home?”
“Absolutely not. I’m not sure you realize how bad things are these days, Simon. The press has thoroughly smeared you. Hungry lawyer seduces rich widow then poisons her. You can’t find three people in Braxton who believe otherwise.”
“You were always blunt.”
“Maybe you need some bluntness.”
“No, I don’t. I know it’s bad, believe me. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I’m on the phone and computer all day looking for a job and there are some prospects.”
They walked for a long time in silence, until they were cold. When his car was in sight she said, “It’s almost ten. My parents will be home in a minute. You want to say hello?”
“I’ll do it tomorrow. Okay if I take the kids out for pancakes?”
“They would like that.”