“They were. Of course, I never believed that she’d actually do it.”
“Pike apparently signed a statement saying that Jana paid him fifteen grand to kill Braxton,” Jason said.
“I’ve heard that too.”
“Do you believe it?”
Burns leaned back in his chair. “Well, that matches the money she took out. And as for Pike, he seemed like a good old boy, but you know your sister, Jason. She can cast a spell on people. She’s about ruined her two girls. Neither one of them wants to visit their mother in the jail because they’re scared of what she might say. Jana plays with their emotions, and they know she’ll make them feel guilty. She’s written them both nasty letters asking them why they haven’t come to visit. Nola’s been hit especially hard because she told the sheriff’s investigator that she thought Jana did it. Jana basically told her in the letter that it was Nola’s fault that she was in there.”
“Good grief,” Jason said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. That sounded just like his sister.
“You want some friendly advice?” Burns asked, his voice slurring slightly.
“Let me guess. Don’t take the case.”
He made the gun symbol with the index finger and thumb of his right hand. “Pow,” he said.
“Thanks,” Jason said.
“She’s guilty, Jason,” Burns said, taking a large bite of catfish. “She’s guilty as sin, and there ain’t nothing you, Clarence Darrow, or Perry Mason can do about it.”
Jason took his glass of tea and held it up in a mock toast. “Innocent until proven guilty?” he asked.
Burns shook his head and spoke with his mouth full. “Guilty.”
29
Jason drove the boat back to Buck Island. Jackson Burns the tour guide was gone, and the large man was now lying on his back, drifting in and out of sleep. Though he hadn’t driven a watercraft in years, Jason found that he rather enjoyed the task, and, as the cliché goes, it was a bit like riding a bike. By the time he reached the Veterans Memorial Bridge and saw Buck Island in the distance, he was smiling.
Given what Burns had told him over lunch, he really didn’t have any reason to be happy, but he felt better nonetheless. Again, perhaps it was the air hitting him in the face. Or maybe hearing how Jana had spiraled out of control after their father’s death made him feel better about his own demise.
“Thanks for driving,” Burns said, patting Jason on the back. The car dealer’s voice was hoarse and thick with drink and fatigue.
“No worries,” Jason said.
“Here, let me get this last part. The boat slip can be kinda tricky.”
They switched places, and Burns guided the boat into the slip with Jason hopping out and cranking the lift until the boat was out of the water. Once Burns was safely on the dock, Jason peered west and saw the Waterses’ boathouse a quarter mile in the distance. “Burns, when did you say you got home the night of the Fourth?”
The other man sighed and leaned against the side of a chair. “It was actually the fifth by then. Past midnight, probably closer to one a.m.”
“Did you come down here?”
Burns chuckled. “Hell no. I passed out in my bed.”
“Could you hear anything coming from the direction of Jana’s property?”
“Nah. All I heard was the occasional firecracker.”
They trudged up to Burns’s house, which was every bit as impressive as the Waterses’ home. When they reached the porch, Jason turned back toward the water and saw a nest of clouds moving in from the south.
“Rain on the way,” Burns said. “Maybe it’ll cool things off.”
Jason nodded, but if he knew Alabama in July, he figured that any rain would only make things stickier and muggier. Regardless, the current breeze coming off the lake felt good.
“You want me to give you a lift back to your car?” Burns asked.
“No, that’s OK,” Jason said. Jason wasn’t about to get in a vehicle with the drunk salesman. “The walk will do me some good.”
Jason followed Burns through the house, and they said their goodbyes in the foyer.
“If you need anything, let me know,” Burns said. “And give the girls a little time. Their world’s been turned upside down. They’ll eventually warm up to you.” He squinted at Jason. “That is, if you stick around. Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Gonna stay.”
“I don’t know. Still feeling things out. Is there going to be a funeral for Braxton?”