If they had decided to get her out of the way in a more timely manner ... that could only mean one thing ...
... they would want Carson Tanner out of the way as well.
16
9:40 p.m.
Oxmoor Road, Homewood
Homewood Public Library
Dwight watched the Mercedes roll into the secluded parking lot. He couldn’t trust that bitch to do as he’d asked. She didn’t care about him or his son. She would do whatever was necessary to protect herself. She would do whatevertheywanted.
He was alone in this endeavor.
The Mercedes came to a stop on the farthest side of the lot where the lighting was its dimmest, where Dwight lurked, like a common criminal. His lips twisted with fury. He was once the finest thoracic surgeon in this region ... but the lure of power and more money had taken him to another level. Only to be reduced to this. Fear, deception ... all because of one night fifteen fucking years ago.
He stepped out of the shadows and waited as patiently as possible. He would have some answers now.
District Attorney Donald Wainwright got out of his Mercedes and walked toward Dwight. His every stride highlighted his impatience. The illustrious DA stopped a few steps away, braced his hands on his hips, and glanced around to ensure they were alone. “What’re you doing, Dwight?”
His condescension made Dwight all the angrier. “How can you ask me that?” He diminished the distance between them with one bold step. “Where is Zac?”
Wainwright heaved a big breath. “You called me at this hour of the evening, asked me to come here”—he motioned to the empty lot—“to pose a question you know I can’t answer.” He moved his head slowly from side to side in disappointment, in disgust. “You’re losing your grip, Dwight. I know this is a stressful time, but risks like this can’t be tolerated. There’s too much at stake.”
Fifteen years ... fifteen damned years they had all lived with this secret ... with one goal: protecthim.Fear compounding the fury already blasting through his veins, Dwight lost all sense of self-possession. He jabbed a finger in Wainwright’s face. “Enough. Enough!” he snarled. “Protecting our own is one thing, but I will not—do you hear me?I will notlet my son be sacrificed because that bastard can’t keep a leash on his own son!”
Wainwright’s demeanor shifted—nothing obvious, just the subtlest change in his relaxed posture. Dwight wasn’t so over the edge that he no longer owned the good sense to be afraid.I’m certain you do not want to go there.The bitch’s words reverberated in his skull.
“Your son,” Wainwright said quietly, so quietly that only a man who knew him well would understand the malice behind the words, “sold drugs to children. Used his education and every damned other approach available to him to further the corruption in this city. He made his bed, now he’ll have to lie in it.”
Wainwright adjusted the lapels of his jacket and squared his shoulders. “Let the police handle this matter, Dwight. That’s what our tax dollars are for.” He started to turn away but reconsidered. The near darkness did not conceal his intentions when he added, “Make no mistake, if you get out of control, I won’t be able to protect you.”
Wainwright returned to his beloved Mercedes and drove away.
Dwight didn’t care that Wainwright was correct about the line he stood on the verge of crossing, just as Annette Baxter had accurately assessed the same. Right now, a single word pounded violently in his brain:sold.
Your son sold drugs to children.
Emotion drained out of Dwight like blood sliding down his limbs and pooling on the pavement.
He’d come here, demanded that Wainwright meet him in a safe, secluded place, to get answers, to have the truth.
Dwight had gotten both.
Zachary Dwight Holderfield, his only son, was dead.
17
Friday, September 10, 1:45 p.m.
227 Leonard Avenue, Nashville, Tennessee
Delta Faye Cornelius blew out a big puff of blue smoke.
Carson held his breath until the cloud had passed. When he could breathe again, he guided the lady back to the subject that had brought him here. “You say you considered yourself Annette Baxter’s surrogate mother?”
Ms. Cornelius took another drag, closed her eyes while she held the noxious fumes deep in her lungs, then released. When her gaze met his, she said, “That’s right. Must’ve been a dozen years ago. We were thick as thieves.”
