Jesse ended the dinner with a tribute to his son. For a man who’d given a thousand speeches, he barely got through it. When he finished, there were only a few dry eyes.
A soul group livened things up and the party moved to the dance floor. At midnight, Jesse and Agnes left the youngsters and headed to their hotel.
Early the following morning, Ainsley’s parents awoke in a panic. They had woefully underestimated the amount of beer, liquor, and wine that would be needed that evening for the wedding dinner. Over three hundred guests would attend, almost half of them from Biloxi, and those Catholics could really drink. Mr. Hart spent the morning raiding liquor stores and buying kegs of beer.
The 5:00 p.m. ceremony went as planned, with some of the eight groomsmen showing obvious distress from the long night. Jesse proudly stood next to his son as his best man. Ainsley had never been more beautiful.
* * *
Haley Stofer was arrested in St. Louis for drunk driving. He put up a cash bail and was almost out of the police station when his name appeared on a wanted list. Apparently, the defendant had had some problems down in Mississippi. There was an outstanding warrant based on an old indictment for drug trafficking. It took a month to extradite him to Harrison County, and when Jesse saw his name on the weekly jail log, he dropped everything and paid him a visit.
A bailiff shoved Stofer into the room where the DA was waiting. Jesse stared at him, took in his unshaven, gaunt face, his faded orange jumpsuit, the handcuffs. He even had chains around his ankles, because he was, after all, a drug smuggler.
“Where you been, Stofer?” Jesse asked.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Rudy.”
“I’m not sure about that. Look, I’m not here to rehash the past. I brought you a copy of the indictment, thought you might want to refresh your memory. What did I tell you back then?”
“You told me to get out of town. The bad guys were after me. I was about to be killed.”
“True, but I also told you to call me once a week. The deal was that you would be available to testify against Lance Malco. Instead, you disappeared and left me hanging.”
“You told me to run.”
“I’m not going to argue. I’ll knock off ten years for jumping bail.”
“I testified before the grand jury and got the indictments.”
“Okay, I’ll knock off another fifteen. That leaves fifteen for trafficking.”
“I can’t serve fifteen years, Mr. Rudy. Please.”
“You won’t have to. With good behavior you might get out in ten.” Jesse abruptly stood, left the indictment on the table, and walked to the door.
Stofer said, pleading, “They’ll get me, you know? I couldn’t come back.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Stofer.”
“It’s all your fault. You forced me to go undercover.”
“No, Stofer, you chose to run drugs. Now you pay the price.” Jesse left the room.
* * *
Following orders Lance left behind, Hugh moved into the big office and took charge of the family business. It included the strip clubs—Red Velvet, Foxy’s, O’Malley’s, the Truck Stop, and Desperado, formerly known as Carousel—as well as two bars where the bookies gathered, a string of convenience stores used to launder cash, three motels once used to house the hookers but now virtually vacant, two restaurants that, oddly enough, had never been used for illegal activities, apartment buildings, raw land near the beach, and some condos in Florida. Lance retained sole ownership of it all, with the exception of the family home which he deeded to Carmen. She had not filed for divorce and was relieved that her husband was gone. They had agreed that Hugh would support her to the tune of $1,000 a month. Hugh’s brother and sister had left the Coast and had little contact with the family.