The lawyer's words did nothing to weaken Matt's resolve.
"I'll do whatever it takes to get my son away from his mother. Kendall is wholly unfit to rear a Burnwood. She won't make a good mother, because she wasn't even a good wife.
"I gave her total freedom to pursue her career, which she jeopardized by making enemies of her colleagues. I was generous with money. I treated her kindly and never shunned my responsibilities as a husband. Ask anyone. You'll hear that we had a perfect marriage.
"This is how she repays me. By telling vicious lies about me and my father. She attacked me physically in our home and left me for dead. She abandoned me. And now, more than a year later, I learn that I have a son. He's three months old and I didn't even know that he existed! What a monster she is, to withhold my son from me."
Quincy Lamar, having listened patiently to his client, calmly latched his attache and rose to his feet. "That's an excellent speech, Mr. Burnwood. Potent content. Persuasive delivery. Very passionate. You've convinced me not only that you're innocent of the crimes of which you've been accused, but that you're also a victim of Mrs. Burnwood's unspeakable treachery. See that you do that well under cross-examination."
He tapped on the door to signal the conclusion of the meeting. While waiting for the guard to unlock the door, he added, "As long as Mrs. Burnwood is-unavailable for comment, no one can dispute your heartrending story. When she's found and you can bet that the feds are turning over every rock in Dixie looking for hera few adjustments might be required."
After he left, Gibb and Matt had only a few moments alone before being escorted to their respective jail cells.
"Dad, I have a son! A boy."
Gibb grasped Matt's shoulders. "It's wonderful news, son.
I'm thrilled. But we'll have to celebrate later. Unfortunately, we don't have time for it now. I don't trust that pansy-assed lawyer as far as I can throw him."
"I don't like him either. Do you want to fire him and get someone else?"
Gibb shook his head. "All lawyers are incompetent in one way or another. They can be devious and disloyal, even if they're a member of your own family," he added dryly. "We should never have relied on him, or anyone else, to do our thinking and acting for us."
Matt looked puzzled. "What are you leading to, Dad?"
"It's time we took matters into our own hands."
Lottie read the letter a second time. Then a third. The message was brash, bold, and to the point.
She crumpled the single sheet of paper and tossed it to the floor. Swearing, she moved to the window and looked out over her untended yard. As plain as a lettered sign, it said, Trash lives here. Charlie had been not only a sorry husband but a sorry provider. She had never been able to afford to spruce up the place and make it pretty.
Well, what had she expected? That matrimony would work a miracle in her life?
She had come from trash and would always be trash. She knew it. So did Charlie. And so did Matt. In fact, that's what he had called her the first time he ever spoke to her.
They were in the fourth grade when he had waylaid her one afternoon on her walk home from school. He dropped from the low branches of a tree, scaring her half to death and blocking her path.
"You think you're hot snot, don't you, red?" he challenged.
"Well, you're not. My daddy says your folks are poor white trash and that I should have nothing to do with the likes of you."
And I say you and your daddy are chicken shit. I'll be more than happy to have nothing to do with you, Matt Burn wood. Now get out of my way."
She had tried to go around him, but he executed a deft sidestep and grabbed her by the shoulders. "What's your hurry?, He tried to kiss her. She kneed him in the groin and It was another few years before he worked up his courage to try again to kiss her. That time, she allowed it From that day forward they were ever aware of each other, Just as they were aware that anything meaningful between them was impossible Even as children they had understood the nuances that distinguished their castes. They came from opposite sides of the tracks, figuratively and literally. The breach could not be crossed).
Nevertheless, they had flirted, waving red flags of allure at their burgeoning sexuality, which went unappeased until one sweltering summer afternoon when they met at a stream in the hills. Stripping to their underwear, they frolicked in the water. Matt suggested a contest to see who could stay beneath the surface the longest.
He wan, of course. As his prize, he demanded that she take off her brassiere and lee him see her breasts. Behind his arrogance, she had detected a vulnerability she found very sweet.
Off came the brassiere.
He looked.
then looking advanced to touching. His touch had been tentative and gentle. That's why she had granted him liberties that she withheld from other boys. Soon she was touching him, to.
That first time had been awkward and uncomfortable. Matt had been clumsy and anxious; she, eager to please. But she remembered the feverish heat of their skin, the mesh of their mingled breath, the thudding of their hearts, and their joyous discovery. Their lust had been honest and unabashed brimming, bursting. And, in many things, innocent.
Now, as Lottie leaned her head against the grimy window pane. tears rolled down her cheeks. She had loved Matt Burn wood to distraction then. As now. And for always.
That's why she let him use her. She recognized and responded to the desperation behind his desire. for her. She filled a need In him, and she suspected it wasn't entirely sexual.
She was Matthew Burnwoods private rebellion for being Matthew Burnwood. He had achieved all the goals his father had set for him. He lived up to the expectations other people imposed on him. He always performed as he was expected to His affair with her was the one failing he allowed himself That it must be kept secret was part of its attraction for her. She was the antithesis of the kind Of woman he was expected to have. If she had been even moderately acceptable in the social circles to which the Burnwoods belonged, Matt probably would have lost interest in her years ago. It was because she was so blatantly unsuitable that he had continued to come to her all these years.
she knew that in his own way Matt loved her He would never love anyone as much as he loved his father No one would ever receive from him the blind loyalty and devotion he reserved for Gibb.
For that reason, Lottie sympathized with Kendall Deaton, who had married Matt with such misplaced optimism. When it came to her husband's affections, Kendall had resented running a distant second to her father-in-law and apparently had macle her feelings known. Even before divorcing her, Matt had often complained that Kendall was too outspoken for her own good.
So what did that make Lottie? A doormat? An obedient uncomplaining, obliging mistress?
The answer was evident in the letter she had received from Matt today. She bent down, picked it Up off the floor, and spread it open on the table, smoothing out the creases she'd made when she balled it up.
Matt needed her now, more desperately than ever before, and more than he would ever need her again.
She gazed around the room at the tired, faded furnishings, the water-stained ceiling, the scuffed hardwood floor that creaked beneath each step.
This is as good as my life is ever going to get, she thought sadly.
When Kendall left town, Lottie's murder trial had been postponed until new counsel could be arranged. A lawyer had been appointed; his first course of action had been to request an extension to allow him time to review the case and prepare his strategy. The court had granted his request. In view of the high-profile cases now pending, it might be months before another trial date was scheduled.
But Lottie wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
Regardless of the outcome of the trial, until she was judged for killing Charlie, her life would remain in a state of limbo.
She wasn't in jail, but she certainly wasn't free.
She had no husband, no children, no family who would claim her. She had a house, but it was shelter, not a home.
She had no status in the community.
The only happiness she had known in her whole life had been found in Matt Burnwood's arms. Even knowing his weaknesses and his prejudice, she loved him.
Again she read the letter he had written her from his jail cell. He was asking an enormous favor. If she granted it, she would be gambling with her life.
On the other hand, after taking inventory of her life, it was clear that she had absolutely nothing to lose.
Chapter 25
They've escaped!"
The bearer of this shocking news was a deputy sheriff whose only responsibility was to give directions and be of assistance to anyone who had business in the Prosper County Court house.
His genetic pool had more than its share of stagnant genes, particularly in those that involved acuity. He had barely passed the application exam required for the job. But he had passed, and he proudly wore the khaki uniform and badge of his office.
The stiff shirt collar was far too large for his scrawny neck, which formed a wobbling pedestal for his small, pointed head.
H is name was Lee Simon Crook. He was a cousin of Billy Joe and the twins.
Luther Crook had a perfect shot lined up when Lee Simon burst through the door of the pool hall and blurted out the news that had sent him running the two blocks from the courthouse. Cursing because he had missed the shot that would have won back the ten dollars he'd lost earlier, Luther swung around, fists doubled up and ready to fight.
"Lee Simon, you little piss-ant! I ought to stamp you to -mush. I had a perfect"
"Shut up, Luther," Henry ordered from his barstool.
"What you say about somebody escaping, Lee Simon?"
"They escaped. From the jailhouse."
Luther grabbed his cousin by the sleeve of his uniform and spun him around. "Who escaped, shithead?"
"The B-B-Burnwoods."
"What the hell you sayin'?"
"Swear to God. " He drew an X over the center of his concave chest. " "Bout ten minutes ago, it was. All hell's broke loose over there. In all the confusion, I snuck out and hightailed it over here quick as I could."
Even during the middle of the day there was always a small crowd of men in the billiards hall, loafers who spent their time drinking beer and grumbling about the mail service, which was consistently late in delivering their welfare checks.
Scowling, Henry dragged his cousin to one of the dim, smoky corners of the saloon, signaling Luther to join them in the back booth.
"You gonna forfeit?" Luther's competitor asked him.
Luther tossed another ten-dollar bill on the felt, racked his cue stick, and slid into the booth beside his brother, so that they sat facing the cousin whom they had tormented all his life. The ornery twins had made every family gathering pure hell for the physically inferior child of their father's brother out of his third wife.
Their chronic abuse had worked conversely to earn them Lee Simon's undying affection, admiration, and loyalty. That his cousins were often on the opposite side of the law seemed only to enamor him more.
"Y'all told me to keep an eye on things over yonder," he began, hitching his thumb in the general direction of the courthouse. "Well, that's what I done. Sure as hell didn't figure on anything this excitin' happening'."
"What did happen?"
"They busted out. Matt and his old man. In broad day light."
"How? They get a guard down?, ""Got him up, you mean," Lee Simon chortled.
"Huh?"
"Miss Lottie Lynam . . . ?"
"Yeah," the twins chorused.
""Well, the last few days, she's been coming to see Matt regular like. Brings him cheeseburgers and coconut cream pie from the cafe. Magazines and books, stuff like that."
He leaned across the table and assumed a man-to-man in flection You know how good she's put together? Well, she sashays into that jail like she was the Queen of Sheba. Gets everybody in there all worked up, don'cha know. Including the guards. Me, even. Hell, we might be in uniform, but we're men underneath, right?"
""Yeah, she's got a set of tits that'll knock out headlights,"
Luther said impatiently. 'Get on with it, will ya?"
Lee Simon licked away the spittle that often formed in the corners of his lips So Lottie comes a-prancin' in there today, wearing a real tight-fittin' dress. And she makes damn sure she's got everybody's undivided attention, including al' Wiley Jones."
Getting into his story, he scooted forward on the seat of the booth. More spittle was collecting. "Wiley lees her into the visitin' area, where she trips and spills her purse. She went down on all fours to pick up her scuff, and I heard tell that ol, Wiley's eyes nearly popped right outa his head. Also heard tell that she didn't have no underwear on, but that might be a rumor. Or wishful thinkin'."
"If you don e get to the point"
"Okay, okay. I don't wane to leave nothin' out." He drew a quick breath. You know how everybody makes a big to do over Gibb Burnwood? Thinks he's a great guy and all.
Well, most of the guards think he's getting a bad rap, so the security round him and Matt has been relaxed, you might say.
When Miss Lottie drops her purse, Wiley leaves his pose and rushes to help her. While he's scooping up lipsticks and chewing gum, Matt and Gibb, who'd been waiting to see Lottie, pass through the door, slick as owl shit.
"Lottie thanks Wiley for helping her, then says all breathless like, "Goodness me, I can't see my friends lookin' like this!'
