Dad’s mention of the Bone Tree forces me to think of Caitlin’s last hour on earth. “Then why does Snake want you dead?”
“I don’t know. He’s afraid of me, for some reason.” Dad jabs a crooked finger at me. “But you’re a target, too. Don’t forget that. You killed Forrest Knox. And Snake knows that. That means anybody and everybody you hold dear is in Snake’s sights. Annie, Peggy, Jenny—even Mia Burke.”
“Wives and children don’t have immunity,” I murmur.
“Exactly. God, I wish Daniel Kelly were still around. You know what he would call Snake. Remember?”
“A one-bullet problem.”
“Damn right. Kelly’s still MIA in Afghanistan?”
“Presumed dead.”
“That is a tragedy on so many levels.”
A thought from a dark place rises to the surface. “Since we’re talking about this kind of extremity . . . what about Walt Garrity?”
A pensive look comes over Dad’s face. “On the morning of Caitlin’s funeral, I told Walt the time had come to kill Snake. I was certain that was our only option. Walt agreed, in principle, but he said he couldn’t risk the rest of his life to do it. I understood. He loves that Mexican wife of his, and he’s only been with her a little while.”
My father’s eyes brighten a little. “That’s one reason I turned myself in. I half hoped that when I showed up at Henry’s funeral, Snake would raise his head and take a shot at me, and Kaiser and his team might get him. But Snake was too smart for that.”
“He’s no fool. Snake had an old Double Eagle murdered after planting a ton of evidence in his house. Framed him for knocking down that FBI jet.”
“I know. Silas Groom. He was one of my first patients in Natchez.”
“Snake killed about a dozen birds with that stone. Now every other Eagle is scared to death of meeting the same fate.”
Dad chews his bottom lip as though silently trying to work out a problem. “I’ve been over everything I ever knew about those bastards,” he says, “all the way back to my days as company physician for Triton Battery. Partly for Kaiser and the Bureau, but also for myself. I remembered one case I’d forgotten, a young woman from Athens Point. She was raped by some white men down in the Lusahatcha Swamp in the midsixties. They killed her husband in front of her. Lynched him. It was a terrible case, but it got very little attention. The young wife never really recovered. Her mother-in-law brought her to me for help, but I couldn’t break through her depression. Eventually, she left town and committed suicide. I always felt like the Double Eagles had been behind that. They had a strong presence in Lusahatcha County, even back then.”
“Shit. When did this happen, exactly?”
“Oh, 1965 or ’66. But I can’t even remember the mother-in-law’s name. They wanted it kept quiet. They were afraid of retaliation, and rightfully so. All the law down there was Klan back then. Even now, I think the sheriff is in with the Knoxes. Or was, anyway.”
“Billy Ray Ellis,” I mutter in agreement. “So, what are you thinking? You want me to kill Snake Knox?”
Dad gives me a tired smile. “Hell, no. I wouldn’t ask that of you. What I would like you to do is go back over Henry Sexton’s footsteps. Go see the old Double Eagles—and not just them. Go see their wives, ex-wives, their children. Talk to them—really talk. If you’ll do that, I believe you’ll end up convincing one of them to testify against Snake.”
His suggestion has stunned me. “Testify in open court? You’ve got to be kidding. The FBI has been working that angle all along.”
“You’re not the FBI. You’re my son.”
“Do you think that grants me some kind of superpower? These aren’t grateful black patients, Dad. These are pissed-off, defiant old rednecks.”
Dad’s eyes flicker with conviction, even excitement. “I believe you can do it. You’ve got a gift with people.”
“Hell, you couldn’t even do it! You got up at Henry Sexton’s funeral and asked everyone in the community to break their silence and tell what they knew about the Double Eagles. But nobody has come forward. Have they?”
“They’re afraid, Penn. And rightly so. Afraid for their wives, their children, afraid for themselves. But they can be turned. I treated most of those people at one time or another. They’re human beings. They have consciences. And they have vulnerabilities, just like we do.”
His request has jarred something deep within me. “Why do you want me to do this? Seriously. It’s a fool’s errand.”
“I don’t believe that. It will be dangerous, though. I’ve heard you’re wearing a bulletproof vest when you go out, and that’s good. But you should take a bodyguard everywhere you go. Don’t relax your vigilance for even one second.”
I’m incredulous that he would assume my assent to this plan. “Dad . . . I’m not doing this. You haven’t given me a thing to work with.”
With a long sigh he looks down at the floor. Then he looks up and almost inaudibly whispers, “I’ll give you something. On the night Viola died, there was a pickup truck parked in the trees on her road. There was a Darlington Academy sticker on the back windshield.”
This stops me. Darlington Academy was one of the “Christian schools” founded in response to school integration during the 1969/1970 school year. Darlington’s financial backers had been members of either the White Citizens’ Council or the Ku Klux Klan. Maybe both.
“Whose truck was that?” I ask.
“Walt did some digging, and our best guess is an old Double Eagle named Will Devine.”
“I remember Devine. He was in the jail on the day Sonny Thornfield was killed.”
“That’s right.”
“Kaiser told me Will Devine agreed to turn state’s evidence after Sonny’s murder, but after the FBI jet went down, he backed out.”
“But that proves he’s conflicted! You should start with Devine.”
“Why did Walt dig that up? Does Kaiser know about the Darlington Academy truck?”
Dad shakes his head.
“Why the hell not?”
Another sigh. “I can’t tell you that, son.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“We’re wasting time, Penn.”
Anger flashes through me. “Why even tell me this? What the hell do you think I can do?”
“Put pressure on Devine. Squeeze him and see if you can make him pop. Walt tried, but Will wouldn’t talk to him. Slammed the door in his face.”
“I’ll bet he did.”
Dad’s hollow eyes implore me across the inches that divide us. “I’m not asking for myself, Penn. It’s for the family.”
“Sure it is. Like everything else you’ve done, right?”
“No. Not everything. Most of this happened because of something selfish I did long ago. I fell in love with another woman.”
“Like I said, no need to go into all that.”
“I won’t. All I’m saying is this: If you do what I ask, then one of two things will happen. Either someone will agree to testify against Snake, or Snake himself will raise his head.”
“And then what?”
“If we’re lucky, somebody will stomp on him.”
“Who? Kaiser?”
“Maybe.”
“One of my guards?”