Mississippi Blood (Penn Cage #6)

Serenity has been gone even longer than Annie. Despite her quick use of Mia’s calcium gluconate, Drew Elliott immediately had her transported to University Medical Center in Jackson. He didn’t want to risk the complications that still have Keisha Harvin in critical condition. I never even got to say good-bye to Tee. The ambulance carrying her had already departed Natchez by the time I left Dad and Quentin at the jail.

We’ve had some turnover in our security detail as well. While the VK attackers used nonlethal rounds against most of us, Tim Weathers took an impact to the back of his head, and he’s recovering from a severe hematoma in St. Catherine’s Hospital. Our driver wasn’t killed outright, but he too had to be flown to UMC in Jackson for surgery, where he remains in critical condition. Our security detail is now led by Tim’s deputy, Joe Russell, who is a very solid guy, but he doesn’t inspire quite the confidence or sense of intimacy that Tim did.

One hour ago, my mother went upstairs with a migraine, and I went down to my basement office for the tense wait until dawn. To my surprise, when I went up to the kitchen to scrounge for food, Jenny came in to talk about tomorrow’s prospects.

I didn’t tell her much. I’ve spoken to Kaiser three times, but all he could tell me was that both tapes have been checked into a special forensic intelligence lab at FBI headquarters, and a team is working on them.

While Jenny nibbles at a bowl of ice cream, my phone pings, and a text from John Kaiser appears. I assume it will be about the videotapes, but it’s not.

Snake Knox bought gas in Sulphur, Louisiana, earlier this evening. Paid cash. We got a security cam photo of him and Alois Engel at the payment window. They bought four quarts of beer.



I texted back: So they’re headed to Texas?

Unless they double back into the Atchafalaya Swamp to hide out. We’ll find them. Leave ur cell on tonite.



I text, Will do, then click end and set my phone back on the granite countertop.

Jenny seems to be staring at a point on my chin, her expression lethargic.

“Are you thinking?” I ask. “Or having a seizure?”

She starts like a sleepwalker coming awake somewhere unfamiliar. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get that way when I’m thinking. Slack-jawed.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Dad. Last October, when he had his heart attack, that was the first time I began to truly understand that he will die someday. Probably soon. Whether he’s acquitted in this trial or not . . . he’ll be gone. Despite all his health problems, I’ve always seen him as invulnerable. Invincible.”

Jenny taps her fist against her chin, and it’s obvious that she’s dealing with some painful emotions. At last she drops her hand and pats the kitchen counter with both palms. “During the conference at your office today, I could hear some of your discussion from the lounge.”

This makes me sit up straight. “And?”

“I thought I heard some mention of a videotape. Is that the tape that Viola left for Henry Sexton? The tape Daddy and Walt tried to get rid of?”

Shit. “There was some discussion of whether it might be possible to restore that.”

“And is it?”

“It might be, apparently. We won’t know until tomorrow.”

“And would that be a good thing?”

How do I answer this? I’m not about to make Jenny lie awake all night in terror.

“I honestly don’t know. Let’s not borrow trouble, huh? I’d just as soon give the case to the jury first thing in the morning.”

“So you don’t think Daddy should take the stand tomorrow?”

I think back to my visit in the jail, to the broken look in his eyes. “No. His chances are far better if he keeps his mouth shut.”

“I agree. I really worry what Shad Johnson would do to him on cross.”

“You’re right to. Shad can wield a question like a scalpel. I think Quentin underestimates him.”

The swish of slippers on the floor makes us both turn. Mom stands in the kitchen door, sleepy-eyed but alert for any hint of danger.

“Did I hear you talking about the case?”

Whoever said all humans lose hearing ability as they age never examined my mother.

“We were just discussing the possibility of Dad taking the stand tomorrow.”

Very calmly, Mom reaches out and steadies herself by grasping the door frame. “Would that be the mistake I think it would, Penn? I’m asking you as a former prosecutor.”

“Most lawyers would say yes. Most lawyers would have rested after Junius Jelks testified, or after Lincoln was destroyed. Certainly after Vivek Patel.”

My mother nods slowly. “Your father never would listen to anyone else. Not about the big things. And Quentin’s following his wishes.”

“Mom, I think there’s only one person in the world who could stop Dad from taking the stand tomorrow.”

To my surprise, she laughs. In that laugh is fifty years of shared living, half a century of knowing another human being as they truly are and sticking with them anyway.

“I’ve tried,” she says. “Oh, how I’ve tried. But it’s no use.”

She walks between Jenny and me, then puts an arm around each of us. A shock of pain flashes through my right side, but Mom doesn’t seem to notice. This tells me she’s definitely been into the pharmaceuticals.

“My two babies,” she says, “still with me. We’ll just have to hope for the best tomorrow.”

A thousand memories flood my mind, but before I can voice a single one, Mom plants a kiss on each of our cheeks and glides from the room.

Jenny looks at me and shakes her head. “All this going on, and you know the last thing Mom told me she was worried about?”

“What?”

“You falling for Serenity.”

“God. She started in on me last night with that. And then she walked in on us.”

Jenny raises her eyebrows. “In flagrante delicto, I heard?”

“She told you?”

“Mm-hm. Today, when we went to her house to pick up her ‘things.’”

“Xanax?” I ask.

“Among other goodies. Can you blame her? Living in a motel beside a federal prison for months? That’s not what she signed on for.”

“No. But . . . it still disappoints me a little. I’m not being judgmental. I’ve just never seen a crisis she couldn’t handle sober. You know?”

Jenny shrugs. “We all have a breaking point.” She stands and rinses her ice cream bowl in the sink. “So . . . ?”

“So what?” I ask.

“You and Serenity?”

“Oh, hell. That’s temporary. We just clicked. I hadn’t touched a woman since Caitlin, and— I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

“Well . . . she seemed to need me as well. And she doesn’t play games, you know? She’s straightforward, and I needed that. I don’t think it’ll last beyond this week. She’s not going to move here and become Annie’s stepmother. And I’m sure as hell not moving to Atlanta.”

“Mom will be relieved to hear it.”

“Oh, I know. She was practically pushing me into Mia’s arms as an alternative.”

For the first time in a long while, Jenny laughs.

“I’ll tell you something, though,” I say seriously. “When Mom walked in on us doing it, she looked like she’d seen death itself.”

Jenny stares back at me, her eyes troubled. “The ghost of Christmas past, maybe?”

“I imagine so. I hate that I hurt her in any way.”

“You get to live your own life, Penn. But deep down, I think you want Ward and June Cleaver back. I probably do, too.”