Hour Game (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 2)

“That must be encouraging,” said King.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Thing is, he was incoherent. Spouting off names, nothing he said made any sense. Hell, they don’t know for sure if he’s slipped back into the coma or not.”

“I guess that’s hard for the doctors to determine.”

“With what they charge I expect them to walk on water and have a direct line to God,” she replied bitterly.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Right now a prayer or two couldn’t hurt.”

Mason came out carrying a tray of coffee. He poured a cup for Remmy and offered some to Michelle and King—both declined—before retreating once more.

“There’s nothing like a soothing cup of coffee in the afternoon.” Remmy took a long sip and then settled back in her chair. “Harry Carrick’s a damn fine lawyer, and Junior’s lucky to have him.” She paused, took another drink of her coffee and added, “But Junior did it. I know it as though I’d seen him do it myself.”

King pounced. “But that’s the point, Remmy, you didn’t see him. No one did.”

She waved this comment off in a way that reminded Michelle of Savannah’s earlier chopping gesture. “The evidence is overwhelming.”

“Right, too overwhelming. He could have been framed.”

Remmy looked at King as though he were speaking a language not of this earth. “Who in their right mind would want to frame someone like Junior Deaver?”

“Whoever really broke into your home and stole all that property,” replied King. “And do you really see Junior fencing bearer bonds and fine jewelry?”

“He didn’t know what was in there. He got cash too. It doesn’t take an Einstein to spend cash, now, does it?” she retorted.

“All we want to do is look around and talk to a few people. And even though we’re working for Harry and Junior, I’m presuming you want the guilty party caught.”

Remmy smiled, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. “You presume correctly, Mr. King, although they’ve already caught the guilty party.” She suddenly roared, firing the words off like a .50-caliber gone haywire, “And if that big dumb son of a bitch would tell me where the hell my wedding ring is, I might persuade the commonwealth’s attorney to drop the charges! Why don’t you go back and tell Harry that! And then maybe we can put an end to this horseshit!”

Michelle noted that the woman’s southern drawl was far more pronounced when she was angry and, unlike her daughter, there was absolutely nothing affected about it. Michelle set her iced tea down because she’d almost dropped it after Remmy’s eruption. She silently thanked God that Remington Battle wasn’t her mother.

Unfazed, King said in a calm voice, “Duly noted, Remmy. But can we look around now?”

Remmy stared at him for a long moment. Her lips twitched as she apparently tried to master her anger. For an instant Michelle actually thought the woman was going to hurl her cup of soothing coffee at King’s head. Maybe you should switch to decaf, Michelle thought.

Finally, Remmy rose from her chair and motioned for them to follow. “Hell, I’ll show you myself.”

CHAPTER

16

REMMY BATTLE LED KING

and Michelle inside and up the main staircase to the third floor. The house seemed to have been added onto over time, observed Michelle, with new wings extending out from the older central block.

Remmy apparently read her thoughts because she said, “This house has been a work in progress for decades. Many of our friends have several beautiful estates around the world, but this is the only one Bobby and I ever wanted. It’s something of a mishmash at times, and some hallways just stop at a wall, but I”—she corrected herself instantly—“we love it.”

They arrived at a door that Remmy opened and ushered them through.

It was a large and nicely furnished room, painted in comfortable colors, with a row of windows. One of those windows looked new.

Remmy pointed to it. “That’s where he got in. The police said he used a crowbar. They finally gave me the okay to have everything fixed.”

King stared down at a cracked picture frame that was on one of the nightstands. The glass had been pulled out. He picked it up. “What happened to this?”

Remmy scowled. “That picture was on a table over by the window. It