The fact that he had so successfully disappeared only fueled the speculation that he had done something wrong, and stealing clients’ money was the most likely scenario. Every lawyer handled his clients’ money, if only for brief periods of time, and the quickest and most common route to disbarment was pilfering a bit here and there. There was no shortage of legendary cases where lawyers succumbed to temptation and looted entire trust funds, guardianship accounts, and settlement pools. They usually tried to hide for a while but all were caught, stripped of their licenses, and sent to prison.
But Mack was never caught, nor was he heard from. As the months passed, Jake asked Harry Rex, always over a beer, if he had heard from Mack. He most certainly had not, and among the local lawyers the legend grew. Mack pulled off the great escape. He left behind an unhappy marriage, a dismal career, and was on a beach somewhere, sipping rum. Or at least that was the fantasy among the lawyers he left behind.
（4）
Kathy said, “We got the impression he did something wrong around here, but he never mentioned it. I mean, you gotta figure a guy like him, living in some exotic place down there, using an alias, and so on, had a pretty colorful past. But, again, he didn’t give us much.”
Gene said, “When we got home we did some digging and found a couple of stories in the local newspapers, but it was pretty general stuff. His divorce, bankruptcy, and the fact that he was gone.”
Kathy asked, “Can we ask you, Mr. Brigance, did Mack do something wrong? Is he on the run?”
Jake wasn’t about to confide in these strangers, two nice people he would probably never see again. The truth was that Jake didn’t know for sure that Mack had committed a crime. He deflected the question with “I don’t think so. It’s no crime to divorce and leave town.”
The answer was completely unsatisfactory. It hung in the air for a few seconds, then Gene leaned in a bit closer and asked, “Did we do anything wrong by talking to him?”
“Of course not.”
“Aiding and abetting, something like that?”
“No way. Not a chance. Relax.”
They took a deep breath.
Jake said, “The bigger question is: Why are you here?”
They exchanged knowing little smiles and Kathy reached into her bag. She withdrew a plain, unmarked, unstamped manila envelope, five-by-eight, and handed it to Jake, who took it with suspicion. The flap had been sealed with glue, tape, and staples.
Gene said, “Mack asked us to stop by and say hello, and tell you that he sends his greetings. And he asked us to deliver this. We have no idea what it is.”
Kathy was nervous again and asked, “This is okay, right? We’re not involved in anything, are we?”
“Of course not. No one will ever know.”
“He said you could be trusted.”
“I can.” Jake wasn’t sure what he was being asked in trust, but he didn’t want to worry them.
Gene handed him a scrap of paper and said, “This is our phone number in Memphis. Mack wants you to call us in a few days and say, simply, yes or no. That’s all. Just yes or no.”
“Okay.” Jake took the scrap of paper and placed it next to the envelope and the pound of coffee. Kathy finally took a sip from her cup and remained expressionless.
They had completed their mission and were ready to go. Jake assured them that everything would be held in the strictest of confidence and that he would tell no one about their meeting. He walked them to the front door and outside onto the sidewalk, and he watched them get into a shiny BMW sedan and drive away.
Then he hustled back to the conference room, closed the door, and opened the envelope.
（5）
The letter was typed on one sheet of plain white paper, tri-folded, with a smaller envelope stuck in the fold.
It read:
Hello, Jake. By now, you’ve met my two newest best friends, Gene and Kathy Roupp, of Memphis. Fine folks. I’ll cut to the chase. I want to talk to you, down here in Costa Rica. I want to come home, Jake, but I’m not sure that’s possible. I need your help. I’m asking you and Carla to take a little vacation and come see me, next month during spring break. I assume Carla is still teaching and I assume the schools take their normal spring break the second week of March. I’ll arrange six nights at the Terra Lodge, a splendid eco-tourist resort in the mountains. You’ll love this place. Enclosed is $1800 in cash, more than enough for two round-trip tickets from Memphis to San Jose, Costa Rica. From there, I’ll have a car waiting to bring you here. It’s about three hours and the drive is beautiful. Rooms, meals, tours, everything is on me. The dream vacation of a lifetime. Once you get here, I’ll eventually find you and we’ll talk. Privacy is my specialty these days and I assure you no one will ever know about our meeting. The less said about the vacation the better. I know how people love to talk around that awful town.