“So you think I’ll lose,” I said.
She nodded her head. “Given my experience in these matters, which, unfortunately, is quite extensive, I think the judge will allow Katie to move your son to Hawaii and will grant you visitation when he isn’t in school.”
“Which will be about two months a year if I’m lucky.”
“That’s probably about right. You’ll get him in the summer.”
“What if he doesn’t want to come? What if he loves Hawaii and doesn’t want to come back here in the summer?”
“He’ll want to see his father. I can’t sugarcoat this for you, Darren. It’s going to be extremely hard for you, but you’re going to have to make an extra effort to stay in touch with him. You’ll have to call him a lot. FaceTime with him. Do whatever you can to keep your relationship loving and viable. Write him letters. Send him gifts. You’re going to have to show him how much you love him, how much you really care.”
I put my head in my hands and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees.
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “I can’t believe that snooty, spoiled rotten, belligerent bitch is going to take my son from me.”
“She can take him out of the state, but she can’t take you out of his heart,” Gwen said. “You’re the only person that can allow that to happen. Now promise me you won’t do anything rash.”
“Like what?”
“Just don’t do anything to get yourself in trouble.”
“Are you insinuating I might harm Katie?”
“Her lawyer called me yesterday afternoon after the two of you met. He knew you’d come to me. He said you threatened to kill her.”
“I didn’t threaten to kill her,” I said.
“Stay away from her,” Gwen said. “I’ll call her lawyer and work out the custody details and make sure you get a chance to say goodbye when the time comes.”
I got up and walked out of Gwen’s office in a daze. She could say whatever she wanted about keeping my relationship with Sean alive while he was thousands of miles away on a beautiful island. I knew it would be next to impossible.
First Mom, and now Sean. Grace would be all I had left.
CHAPTER 27
I put the situation with Sean out of my mind by focusing my anger on Ben Clancy. I suspected that Clancy was a creature of habit, and I was right. Each morning at around 7:00 a.m., he left his house and drove a short distance to Charlie’s Cove Road. It ran along a steep ridge above the Tennessee River. Some developer with more money than brains had apparently believed he or she could sell vacant lots along the road, but the slope leading down to the river was so steep, so rocky, and so long that not a single lot had been sold, not a single house had been built. I watched Clancy for two days from my car, and then I watched him from a perch above the road, lying flat on my belly, in the gray light of the morning for three more. He would park at the beginning of the road where it cut off from Somerset Road, which was the street on which he lived, and walk to the end of Charlie’s Cove Road. It was just under half a mile to the end where it formed an oval cul-de-sac. Clancy would walk around the cul-de-sac, return to his vehicle, and drive back home. He carried a walking stick and was alone. I’d read in the newspaper or heard on television less than a year earlier that his wife had died while he was in jail awaiting trial. As I watched him from above, I thought the walks were a metaphor for his life. No dog, no friend, no wife. He was alone. It was appropriate for a man like him.
On the third day, after watching him, I decided I needed some help. It would just be too difficult and too risky to grab him by myself. I called Big Pappy.
“Going to need some help with that thing I was telling you about,” I said.
“Yeah? What do you need?”
“A one-inch, manila hemp rope, fifteen feet long, and I need you to soak it and stretch it. Then I need you to wax about five feet on one end.”
“Say that again?”
“Do you need to write it down?”
“Yeah, let me grab a piece of paper. One sec.” He came back on the line shortly thereafter and I repeated the instructions. “So you’re going to hang the man?”
I’d decided to hang him while obsessing about what he’d done to my uncle, to me, to James, and to the others I didn’t know about. Shooting him or stabbing him would be too quick and too messy. I figured we could grab him off the street and then take him to a contained, concealed spot. That spot was Granny Tipton’s barn. I’d driven up and spoken to her about it, and she was in agreement. We could hang him there, but before we did it, we’d have a little time to allow him to reflect on his behavior.
“That’s the plan. I also need some hand and wrist restraints, a gag, a van, and a willing assistant.”
“When?”
“When can you come?”
“Three days.”
“Perfect.”
“So I’ll see you Tuesday,” Pappy said. “I think I’ll just drive the van up. You’re sure you don’t want a gun this time?”
“Shouldn’t need one.”
The next three days seemed like three months. I got up early the next two days—which was no problem since I barely slept, anyway—and made the trip out near Clancy’s. He didn’t vary from his routine. In fact, he was downright anal about it. You could set your watch by the guy.