“Sure. When and where?”
“Around five p.m. The bar at the Ramada Inn.”
“Okay. So you’re stateside?”
“Let’s talk tomorrow.” The line went dead.
（12）
Jake insisted on driving for two reasons. The first was that Harry Rex behind the wheel was as dangerous as Harry Rex in the courtroom. He drove either too fast or too slow, ignored the basic rules of the road, and exploded with rage at the slightest infraction by another driver. The second was that it was Friday afternoon and he was already hitting the Bud Light. Jake declined a beverage and happily drove.
Just past the Clanton city limits, he said, “To be honest, this is kinda fun. Not your everyday client meeting.”
Harry Rex chewed on an unlit black cigar in the corner of his mouth. “I think the boy’s stupid. He made a clean break, nobody in the world knows where he was, and now he wants to come back to nothin’ but trouble. What kinda work’s he gonna do? Open up a law office?”
“I don’t think he plans to live here. He mentioned Memphis, someplace out of state.”
“Brilliant. As if the state line’ll stop trouble.”
“He’s not expecting trouble.”
“I get that, but the truth is he doesn’t know what to expect. I know things are quiet but her family could cause a ruckus.”
“They’re good folks. They’re more concerned with Lisa’s health than any bad memories of Mack Stafford.”
“That might be easy to assume, but no one can predict what’ll happen.”
“What can they do to Mack?”
“I doubt they have any love for the guy, right? They’re starin’ at the reality of raisin’ two teenage girls, something they weren’t plannin’ on in their golden years. All because their shifty ex-son-in-law took the money and ran away. I’d be pissed all right, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose.”
“Stop up there at Skidmore’s. I need a cold one.”
“You already have one.”
“It’s not cold.”
“How many have you had today?”
“You sound like my wife.”
“Just stop, ass.”
They bickered for an hour until Oxford came into view. On the west side of town, Jake pulled in to the parking lot of the Ramada Inn at five minutes before five. He knew the bar from his college days but had not seen it in years. The students were gone and it was empty. They got beers and found a table in a corner. Fifteen minutes passed and there was no sign of Mack.
“Must be livin’ on island time,” Harry Rex mumbled, as if he were a real stickler for punctuality. He lit another cigar and blew smoke at the ceiling. Mack finally appeared, from nowhere, and shook hands with his old buddies. He wanted to sit where he could see the door. Harry Rex rolled his eyes at Jake but said nothing. They huddled over their beers and swapped insults about weight gains and losses, different hairstyles, beards, attire. Harry Rex was impressed with Mack’s altered looks—the deep tan, the beard, the longer hair, the funky eyeglasses, which were different from the ones Jake had seen two months earlier. Mack was not surprised at Harry Rex’s appearance. Little had changed and nothing had improved. They enjoyed a few laughs and worked on their beers.
Jake got serious with “How’d you enter the country?”
“Legally, with a passport.”
Harry Rex said, “Jake tells me you’re Brazilian now.”
“That’s right. Brazilian, and also Panamanian, though my Spanish is not that good. And I still have my American passport, which I assume works. Didn’t want to risk it though.”
“So you can buy citizenship?” Jake asked with no small measure of disbelief. He had never thought about it. “Is it that easy?”
“Depends on the country, and the cash. It’s not that difficult.”
They mulled this over for a moment. There were so many questions, so much ground to cover, but only Mack knew where they were going.
Harry Rex asked, “How safe do you feel right now, back in Mississippi?”
“I entered our dear state two days ago, drove to Greenwood to see my mom. Then I left.” And went where? He let them hang for a few seconds. They wanted to know where he was staying, or living, but evidently he wasn’t saying yet.
“So you feel safe?”
“I’m not worried. Should I be? I mean, there’s no active investigation. No one is looking for me, right?”
Harry Rex blew some smoke and said, “Well, we ain’t makin’ no guarantees, you understand? But it appears as if the bloodhounds are still locked up.”