“Yes.”

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

She pulled a tissue from a pocket and touched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, crying before she’d really said anything. This could take some time, Jake thought. She pulled herself together, stiffened her spine, and smiled at Jake. “You know, Mr. Brigance, I’m not certain who to trust in this situation, but, to be perfectly honest, I trust you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“You see, my brother was on that jury.”

“Which jury?”

“Carl Lee Hailey.”

All twelve names were forever etched in Jake’s memory. He smiled and asked, “Which one?”

“Barry Acker. My youngest brother.”

“I’ll never forget him.”

“He has a lot of respect for you, because of that trial and all.”

“And I have a lot of respect for him. They were very courageous, and they reached the right verdict.”

“When I heard that you were the lawyer for Seth’s estate, I felt better. But then, when we heard about his last will, well, it’s pretty confusing.”

“I understand. Let’s trust each other, okay? Drop the ‘Mister’ stuff. Call me Jake, and tell me the truth. Fair enough?”

Arlene placed the tissue on the table and relaxed in her chair. “Fair enough, but I don’t want to go to court.”

“Let’s worry about that later. For now, just give me some background.”

“Okay.” She swallowed hard, braced herself, and let it rip. “Seth’s last days were not pleasant. He’d been up and down for a month or so, post-chemo. He had two rounds of chemo and radiation, lost his hair and a lot of weight, so weak and sick he couldn’t get out of bed. But he was a tough old guy and wouldn’t quit. It was lung cancer, though, and when the tumors came back he knew the end was near. He stopped traveling and spent more time here. He was in pain, taking a lot of Demerol. He would come in early, drink some coffee, and feel okay for a few hours, but then he would fade. I never saw him take the painkillers but he told me about them. At times he was drowsy and dizzy, and even nauseous. He insisted on driving and that worried us.”

“Worried who?”

“The three of us. We took care of Seth. He never allowed people to get close. You said you never met him. I’m not surprised because Seth avoided people. He hated small talk. He was not a warm person. He was a loner who didn’t want anyone knowing his business or doing things for him. He’d get his own coffee. If I took it to him he wouldn’t say thanks. He trusted Dewayne to run his business, but they didn’t spend much time together. Kamila’s been here a couple of years and Seth really liked to flirt with her. She’s a tart, but a sweet girl, and he liked her. But that’s it. Just the three of us.”

“In his last days, did you see him do anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not really. He felt bad. He napped a lot. He seemed upbeat on that Friday. We’ve talked about it, the three of us, and it’s not unusual for people who’ve made the decision to commit suicide to become relaxed, even look forward to the end. I think Seth knew on that Friday what he was about to do. He was tired of it all. He was dying anyway.”

“Did he ever discuss his will?”

She found this funny and uttered a quick laugh. “Seth didn’t talk about his private matters. Never. I’ve worked here for six years and I’ve never heard him say a word about his children, grandchildren, relatives, friends, enemies—”

“Lettie Lang?”

“Not a word. I’ve never been to his house, never met that woman, know nothing about her. I saw her picture in the paper this week, first time I’ve seen her face.”

“It’s rumored Seth liked the ladies.”

“I’ve heard those rumors, but he never touched me, never came on. If Seth Hubbard had five girlfriends, you’d never know it.”

“Were you aware of what he was doing with his businesses?”

“Most of it. A lot of stuff crossed my desk. It had to. He warned me many times about confidentiality. But I never knew it all; not sure anybody did. When he sold out last year, he gave me a bonus of $50,000. Dewayne and Kamila got bonuses too, but I have no idea how much. He paid us well. Seth was a fair man who expected his people to work hard and he didn’t mind paying them. And there’s something else you should know. Seth was not a bigot like most white people around here. We have eighty employees on this yard: half white, half black, all paid the same scale. I’ve heard all of his furniture factories and lumber yards work the same way. He wasn’t much for politics, but he despised the way black people have been treated in the South. He was just a fair man. I came to respect him a great deal.” Her voice cracked and she went for the tissue.

Jake glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was almost noon. He’d been there for two and a half hours. He said he had to go, but would return early the following week with a Mr. Quince Lundy, the new court-appointed administrator. On the way out, he spoke to Dewayne and got a pleasant good-bye from Kamila.

As he drove back to Clanton, his mind spun with the possible scenarios that involved some thug posing as a big-firm Jackson lawyer and trying to intimidate potential witnesses; and doing so just days after the suicide and before the first court hearing. Whoever he was, he would never be seen again. More than likely, he worked for one of the lawyers representing Herschel or Ramona or their kids. Wade Lanier was Jake’s top suspect. He ran a ten-man litigation firm with a reputation for aggressive and creative tactics. Jake had spoken to a classmate who mixed it up often with the Lanier firm. The scouting report was impressive but also disheartening. When it came to ethics, the firm was notorious for breaking the rules, then running to the judge and pointing fingers at the other guys. “Don’t turn your back,” Jake’s friend had said.

For three years, Jake had carried a gun to protect himself from Klansmen and other crazies. Now, he was beginning to wonder if he needed protection from the sharks swimming after the Hubbard fortune.

15

Sleep was fleeting these nights as Lettie found herself yielding even more space to her family. Simeon had not left home in over a week, and he took up half the bed. Lettie shared the other half with her two grandchildren. Two nephews were sleeping on the floor.

She awoke as the sun was rising. She was on her side, looking at her husband wrapped in a blanket and snoring off last night’s beer. Without moving, she watched him for a while as her thoughts drifted unpleasantly. He was getting fat and gray, and his paychecks were shrinking as the years clicked along. Hey big boy, time for a road trip, huh? Time to disappear as only you can do and give me a break around here for a month or two. You’re good for nothing but sex, but who can do that with grandkids in the room?

Simeon, though, was not leaving. No one was leaving Lettie nowadays. She had to admit that his behavior had improved dramatically in the past couple of weeks, since, of course, Mr. Hubbard had passed and altered things. Simeon still drank every night, but not to excess, not like before. He was kind to Cypress, offering to run errands for her and refraining from his usual insulting manner. He was showing patience with the children. He had cooked twice on the grill and cleaned the kitchen, a first. Last Sunday, he went to church with the family. The most obvious change was his gentle and thoughtful nature when he was around his wife.

He hadn’t hit her in several years, but when you’ve been beaten you never forget it. The bruises go away but the scars remain, deep, hidden, raw. You stay beaten. It takes a real coward to beat a woman. Eventually, he had said he was sorry. She said she forgave him, but she did not. In her book some sins cannot be forgiven, and beating your wife is one of them. She had made a vow that she was still determined to keep—one day she would walk away and be free. It might be ten years or twenty, but she would find the courage to leave his sorry ass.