Dead Giveaway

27

Jeff came home close to eight that evening, tired but in a great mood. Wish mine could have matched. He'd brought French dip sandwiches and herb pasta salad from La Madeleine, and we ate at the counter. Despite the great food, I was still glum when I told him about my visit with Mark.

"I needed Mark's reality check about as much as Aunt Caroline needs a face-lift," I said.

"Yeah, I've talked to Mark today," Jeff said. "He wanted to know exactly how much evidence HPD has to exonerate Lawrence. He's on this. He'll get it done."

"In about a year. But no use whining," I said. "Guess we both did our jobs. I only wish they'd hand me a key to his cell and I could let him out myself."

"You should be proud. I know I'm proud of you," Jeff said.

"I couldn't have done it without your help. Daddy always said success is the result of backbone, not wishbone, and you're the one with the backbone."

"You're the strongest woman I've ever met, Abby. Now put away the wishbone for Lawrence. You've done all you can." He took out a fresh pack of Big Red and stared at it for a second. "We got any beer? I could use one while I tell you what Olive had to say."

"Sure. I'm well stocked with staples. Beer, wine, Diet Coke and frozen pizza."

He smiled and returned the gum to his pocket.

I grabbed a couple Shiner Bocks from the fridge, saying, "I nearly forgot about Olive. I'm anxious to hear that lady's excuse for keeping Sara a virtual prisoner."

We went to the living room—or as I like to call it, the loving room—and sat on either end of the couch. Jeff took off his shoes and we faced each other, assuming our favorite position, legs outstretched and intertwined.

"Olive is actually a nice lady," he said. "Clueless, but nice. I'm guessing her IQ hovers around 80 to 85. She and Verna Mae went back a long time, and she knew her friend wanted a baby."

"I figured that's how Will ended up where he did."

"What you don't know is that Verna Mae visited Sara Rankin every week. Those scrapbooks, pictures and news stories about his athletic accomplishments? She took them with her, told Sara that Will was her own child." Jeff took a pull on his longneck.

"You're kidding me. Sara was told stories about her own baby thinking he belonged to Verna Mae? That's crazy, Jeff."

"Are you really surprised?"

"I guess not. But it seems so cruel."

"It might explain why, after meeting Will in the flesh and knowing Sara as well as she did, she decided to set things straight. She had no idea those wonderful people who had been filling her bank account for years would turn on her after she told them she'd been collecting information about Will and sharing it with their invalid daughter."

"No wonder B.J. was on a search-and-destroy mission when Verna Mae wouldn't tell him where she'd saved all the Will mementos," I said.

"He tried to beat information out of her. Guess she was just as tough as she was crazy. Too bad."

"Has Olive cared for Sara all these years?" I asked.

"Yes. She told us the Rankins had her take some

quickie nurse's aide course after they brought a very sick, very pregnant Sara home from the wilderness camp. Olive took care of her, even delivered Will."

"No way," I said. "Guess the Rankins thought everything would be okay, that Sara would return from her fake mission trip after she'd recovered from delivery and they could brainwash her into thinking Lawrence was a killer. Everything would be back to normal. She must not have told her parents she was Lawrence's alibi."

"Probably not. According to Olive, Sara had the stroke right after delivery, went into a coma and couldn't even speak when she finally woke up—all this without a doctor ever setting foot in that cabin."

"She knows Lawrence is in prison, though. How'd she find out?" I asked.

"She can talk?"

"A little. She's not brain-dead, Jeff."

He nodded and drank more beer. "Olive told us that Verna Mae told Sara about Lawrence's arrest and conviction. It wasn't like Sara could run to a judge and offer the alibi Lawrence needed—not in her condition."

"Rankin and B.J. better get everything they deserve and more," I said, anger firing my face. "B.J. will live to meet a tough judge, right?"

"Oh, yeah. He lost a lot of blood, but he's fine. I expect he'll join your ex on death row within the year. Maybe Rankin will, too, though his attorney will probably claim he was protecting you when he shot his wife. I think they'll leave out the 'ridding the earth of Satan' defense. No insanity option there, thank you. He knew right from wrong."

I finished my beer, thinking about the reunion I was planning, probably in Sara's room at the hospital. Will wanted to meet the woman who'd given him life, meet Thaddeus, but it would be a little hollow without Lawrence there.

Jeff set his empty bottle on the floor and took off his already loosened tie. "You ready to call it a night?"

I checked my watch. "It's early." "Yeah. I know." He grinned.

Two days later, I picked up Will so we could head to the hospital for the much-anticipated reunion with the family he'd hired me to find. He wore a T-shirt imprinted with the words UT BASKETBALL and had on a pair of pressed jeans. I swear he'd grown another inch since the last time I saw him. He and I had talked yesterday, but his mother had pretty much filled him in on all that had happened.

When he ducked into the passenger seat, he immediately moved the seat back all the way to fit his legs under the dash. It was still a tight squeeze.

"Where are your parents?" I asked. "I thought they were coming, too."

"Mom and Dad want to wait. They say I need to meet Sara and Mr. Washington by myself first. They do want to have them over to the house, if Sara—is 'Sara' what I should call her?"

"I think Sara is perfect."

"Anyway, when Sara and Mr. Washington are both well enough, Mom wants to have a party."

I smiled. "You have great parents, Will, but having known you even for such a short time, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I don't know what will go down today, Abby. I just know I'm lucky. One day, I'll have enough money to make sure Sara gets all the help she needs. My grandfather, too."

"You already have money, remember?" I said, turning the key in the ignition.

"I don't know. That money Mrs. Olsen left me in her will creeps me out. It came from... I don't know. What's a good word?"

"Evil?"

"Yeah. That's it."

I pulled out of the Knight driveway. "The Rankins seemed to have turned good into evil, so the reverse should work, right?"

"Okay. You got any ideas?"

"Indeed I do," I replied with a smile as we pulled away. "I know some folks who could sure use handicapped-equipped transportation."

Kate had spent several hours with Sara yesterday, preparing her for this reunion. When Will and I walked into Thaddeus's room, she was there with both him and Sara, who were side-by-side in wheelchairs. I had no idea psychotherapy extended to makeup and clothes, but Sara looked even more like the picture from so long ago. Her hair was curled and hung softly to her shoulders and she wore a peach cotton sweater, tank and pants. Even her athletic shoes were new.

Kate and Thaddeus had been talking, but went silent the minute we appeared. Sara's blue eyes were all over Will. I didn't think she even knew I was there—as it should be. It was the most emotion-filled silence I'd ever experienced aside from when they'd lowered my daddy into the ground.

Kate was holding Sara's hand but let go. Sara slowly raised her arm to Will and said, "You. You."

He slid past me, knelt and took his mother's face in his huge hands. "Yes. It's me." Then he planted a kiss on her forehead.

Tears slid down her cheeks, Kate's makeup job disintegrating. But it didn't matter.

Then Will turned to Thaddeus and extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Thaddeus shared one of his wonderful smiles, and they shook hands. "See you been raised proper. But 'sir' don't do for today. 'Sir' is for when you're in trouble. It's Thaddeus, and maybe soon you'll try out 'Granddad.' "

" 'Granddad' works for me."

Kate came over to me as Will gripped Sara's shoulder and held onto Thaddeus's hand.

"I think they have a lot to catch up on. Want to get some coffee?" I asked.

"Coffee never sounded so good. Let's go," she said.

But when we turned, I cracked a smile so big I was thinking the San Andreas Fault might just have a rival.

Jeff stood in the door. We were blocking Thaddeus and Sara's view, and besides, they were busy, so they were unaware that Lawrence was with Jeff. He was holding the blanket.

Lawrence, who had waited far too long for anything good to happen, pushed past me, but stopped in the center of the room. "Sara," he whispered. "God, it's true."

She looked up, blinked and then both her arms came up, even though she had to lift her bad arm with her good hand. She gave the biggest lopsided smile she could manage, let go of her useless left arm and made her finger L. She thumped it against her heart.

He strode to the wheelchair, put the blanket around her shoulders and kissed her lips. Then he rested his forehead against hers for a long moment.

A smiling Will was holding Thaddeus's hand, towering above all of them.

Lawrence pulled back and looked into Sara's clear, blue eyes. "We'll get you better. I promise." He rose and stared at the young man whose features so resembled his.

Will extended his hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Will."

I was grinning like a jackass eating cockleburs as Jeff, Kate and I retreated to the coffee shop. We were soon sitting at a small table sipping on brew so strong you could chew it.

"Now this is a cop's drink," Jeff said.

My coffee turnoff might just resurface. The stuff tasted like motor oil. "How'd you get Lawrence here?" I asked.

"We took I-45 south to—"

"Shut up," I said while Kate laughed. "How?"

"Mark's coup. He filed habeas corpus on Will's behalf yesterday and—"

"I'm not up on my legalese," I said. "What's habeas corpus?"

"Basically habeas corpus is an appeal when all ap peals have been exhausted, as in Lawrence's case," Jeff said. "It's a filing for a court order to bring him before the judge to determine whether his imprisonment is illegal, the only way to get our new evidence presented and free Lawrence for good."

"Ah. Go on," I said.

"Anyway, Mark presented all we had and asked for an immediate hearing. Usually the D.A. asks for time—time that almost always turns into months—but Mark pulled the right assistant D.A., which might not have been a coincidence. She waived her right for time to prepare, basically threw in the towel. She told the judge it was in the interest of justice that Lawrence be released, and the judge agreed. End of story."

"So he is free for good?" Kate asked.

Jeff nodded. "Mark may also file for a full pardon based on innocence. Since the prosecutors traded two bad guys for Lawrence, I don't see anyone having a problem with that. A full pardon, however, will take a long time."

I rested my hands on my chin, stared into Jeff's eyes. "This is great. Thanks for picking up Lawrence."

He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "For you? Anything."

Kate stood. "I'm going back upstairs. You two? Get a room, okay?" She left us alone.

Jeff grinned, and I think I probably was blushing.

I said, "How'd you get the blanket?"

"Burl overnighted it. He knows this case is finally closed."

"Do me one more favor," I said. "Call upstairs and tell Lawrence and Will we won't leave them without a ride, but we'll be gone for about thirty minutes."

Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Where are we going? Someplace kinky, like a janitor's closet or a deserted X-ray room?"

I took his hand as we stood. "No. We're going to get a decent cup of coffee."