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  “Terrance for example.”

  I hesitate to answer.

  “He told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?”

  “No,” I lie.

  “You’re a terrible liar, Drake. Just like your father.”

  “I….”

  “You have another question?”

  “How did you…?”

  She lifts a brow.

  “Okay, stupid question.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Who is Hodges, exactly?”

  “Did you ask Terrance?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He was someone he trusted with his life.”

  “If that’s what he told you, I guess that’s who he is. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “I….”

  “I knew your mother, Drake, and I knew she’d had an affair with Terrance. It wasn’t a secret, everyone knew.”

  “Oh. I don’t… I—”

  “Your mother and I were good friends until she disappeared.”

  “I…”

  “I know that sounds… unconventional?”

  “To say the least.”

  “My marriage has been one of convenience for many years.”

  “Convenience?”

  “For lack of a better or politer term.”

  “Wow. I mean, you seem so… cordial.”

  She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Tell me anything about your childhood that you’d care to share.”

  “We moved a lot. With her job and all.”

  “A flight attendant.”

  “Yeah. We were in Europe for years. When I turned fifteen, we moved back to the States. Mom wanted me to go to college in the States.”

  “You went to Stanford.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “We lived nearby. Why do you ask?”

  She smiles, and this time it reaches her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I find that fact fascinating.”

  “I know where you’re going with this. Why would you care where…?”

  “Where what?”

  “Nothing.”

  This is not the Mary I know. The Mary I know is stoic and brass. If she even bothers to answer your question, it’s with gruff one-word answers.

  “Were you happy?”

  “I…”

  “Too personal?”

  “No, it’s just, Mom used to ask me that all the time.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her the truth, I was happy.”

  “I’m glad you were happy.”

  “Why do you think…?”

  “Think what?”

  “I guess I can ask it, being your relationship with my father is and was unconventional. Why did she run?”

  “What did Terrance tell you?

  “He didn’t come out and say it, but he inferred that you might have found out she was pregnant and asked her to leave. Maybe you even paid her off.”

  “I didn’t ask her to leave. I didn’t know anything about her plans or about you.”

  I believe her, or maybe I just want to.

  “Did your mother ever tell you about a bank account or leave you information about one?”

  “I found a number on a piece of paper with her things. I thought it looked like an account number, but I never checked into it.”

  “Did you tell Terrance about it?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “It didn’t seem important, I guess.”

  “Do you still have the piece of paper?”

  I think about this for a few seconds. “No, I don’t think I do. I must have lost it.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Let it go, Drake.”

  “I… Okay.”

  “You have another question.”

  “How did…”

  She smiles.

  I shake my head and go for it. “What’s your theory on why my mom took off? Why didn’t she tell my dad or anyone where she was going? And why do you think she changed her last name?”

  “That’s three questions.”

  I nod.

  “People do strange things, Drake. You think you know them, think you can trust them, and then…”

  Before I can ask her what she means by that, she looks down at her watch and stands. “I’ve got a tee time in an hour.”

  I nod and stand.

  I follow her out of the room and shut the double doors behind me.

  She turns and faces me. “Nothing is as it seems, Drake. Nothing.”

  “I—”

  She disappears down the hall.

  I follow her into the breakfast room where Suzette is pouring herself some coffee.

  “Oh, there you are, dear,” Mary says.

  Suzette looks around. Finding no one around, she says, “Are you talking to me?”

  “Of course I’m talking to you. Do you see anyone else near you?”

  “No, I just…”

  Mary points her way. “You’re not wearing those shorts, are you?”

  Suzette looks down at her khaki shorts. “I—yeah.”

  Mary shakes her head. “They won’t let you in the front door wearing those.”

  Lucky comes out of the kitchen with fresh coffee.

  “What do you think, Lucky?” Mary asks her as she nods toward Suzette.

  “I think you’re right, ma’am. They won’t even let her in the back door wearing those,” Lucky says matter-of-factly as she exchanges the coffee carafe and returns to the kitchen.

  Suzette looks bewildered and embarrassed as she glances my way.

  All I can do is shrug my shoulders. I’m just as dumbfounded as she is.

  “Come with me,” Mary says. “I’ve got something you can wear.”

  “Oh. Okay. I…” She begins to set her coffee down.

  “Bring it with you,” Mary tells her and waves her on. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

  “No. I just came down.”

  “You can eat at the club. Their eggs are much better than Lucky’s.”

  “I heard that,” Lucky yells from the kitchen.

  YOU MUST PROTECT YOUR KING

  Max picks me up in my father’s limo in front of Caldwell International at 4:00 p.m. sharp.

  Once settled, I open my briefcase and go over my notes.

  “Looking forward to the meeting, sir?”

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  He nods and I return my notes to my briefcase.

  At 4:10 p.m., the limo pulls up in front of the old civic center.

  Max puts the limo in Park and reaches for the door handle.

  “I’ve got this, Max,” I say and open my door before he has a chance to respond.

  I shut the door and his window glides down. “I’ll be in the neighborhood. Text me, and I’ll be here within ten minutes.”

  I nod and make my way up the steps. The old civic center looks like an office building. Its design is such that it’s hard for me to believe it was ever a civic center.

  Once inside, I find the directory and locate the office of planning. I take the elevator up to the fourth floor and take a right.

  I open the first door on the left and walk in. In the middle of the room is a large conference table cluttered with boxes and stacks of files and papers. A gray-haired man with a handlebar mustache is sitting at the table. He looks up and smiles. “You must be Blake.”

  “It’s Drake,” I correct him and look around. “Am I early?”

  “No, not at all.”

  I pull out a chair.

  He stands. “Don’t bother, Blake.”

  “That’s Drake.”

  He walks to the door and I follow.

  “Is the meeting in another room?”

  “Oh no. Our meetings are always in this room.”

  “Okay. I—”

  “Come along,
” he says and waves me through the door.

  “Has the meeting been cancelled?”

  “No,” he says and locks the door behind us.

  “Okay…”

  He looks at his watch. “James should be here any minute. We should go over what we talked about at the meeting.”

  “James?”

  “I’m Lewis Karvel, by the way.”

  We shake hands.

  “Ella fell from a tree.”

  “Ella?”

  “My granddaughter.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “She broke her arm.”

  “That’s—I’m so sorry.”

  “She said her brother Mikey pushed her out. And I believe her. It would be a Mikey thing to do. He’s the youngest one. He’s cheeky.”

  “The youngest one?”

  “I have twenty.”

  “Grandchildren?”

  “Yes. That’s what we’re talking about, is it not?”

  “Yeah, I…”

  “You look confused, Blake.”

  “It’s Drake.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Oh my hell!

  “And there he is.”

  I turn as James walks down the hall toward us.

  “How are you, James?”

  “Fine, sir.”

  “And my girl?”

  “Well, sir.”

  “Wonderful. Wonderful.”

  “Are you ready to go?” James asks me.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Will we see you at church this Sunday, James?”

  “I believe so, sir.”

  “Excellent. Excellent. Well I best be off.”

  “Have a good afternoon, sir.”

  Lewis nods and steps into the elevator. “It was nice to meet you, Blake,” he says as the elevator doors shut.

  “It’s Drake.”

  James chuckles. “Mr. Karvel needs to turn it up.”

  “What?”

  “His hearing aid. He won’t though, says it stings his ear.”

  “You mean ‘rings.’”

  “No, sir. He says it stings like a bubble bee.”

  “I don’t…”

  James chuckles. “Come this way, sir.”

  I follow him down a long corridor and then down a flight of stairs. “Where are we going, James?”

  “I believe we’re going down the stairs, sir.”

  “That’s obvious. I meant, where are the stairs taking us?”

  “If it’s obvious, sir, why do you ask?”

  “I… Why must everyone here speak in riddles?”

  “That’s obvious, sir.”

  “It is.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m so confused.”

  He pauses on the next landing and points. “These are stairs, sir.”

  “What?”

  “You said you were confused.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “Never mind.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  We continue down yet another flight of stairs.

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me sir, James.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “It just seems… I don’t know, formal, I guess. We can’t be that different in age.”

  “I’m fourteen years your senior, sir.”

  “Really? You don’t look it.”

  “If it makes you happy, sir, we both came with the rain.”

  “What?”

  “April showers, sir.”

  “Oh. My birthday.”

  We reach the final landing. James opens the door and steps aside, “After you, sir.”

  I frown as I walk past him.

  “I could address you as Mr. Hudson.”

  “No. That’s even worse.”

  “What about Sir Drake.”

  I stop. “Seriously?”

  He laughs.

  I look around. “Where are we?”

  “In an underground parking area.”

  I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”

  “It was once part of the Underground Railroad in the war, sir.”

  “Really?”

  “No, sir. I’m pulling, sir.”

  “My leg?”

  “That’s obvious, sir.”

  “Oh dear God in heaven.”

  “Here we are, sir,” he says and opens the back-passenger door of Mary’s 1957 Mercedes Landaulet.

  I get in and James shuts the door.

  “It’s about time,” Mary says. “I was getting ready to send in the Boy Scouts.”

  “Lots of stairs, ma’am,” James tells her.

  “I’m confused,” I tell Mary.

  “You’re not alone, dear. Everyone in Savannah is confused.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me dear.”

  “Oh. Okay. What should I call you?”

  “Sir?” James says.

  I rub my now aching temples. “Drake. I want you to call me Drake.”

  “Okay, dear. Oh, sorry. My bad. Old habits and all that.”

  We pull out of the underground parking lot. I squint against the bright sunlight. I open my briefcase and remove my sunglasses.

  “What’s that?” Mary asks, pointing to a file.

  “Nothing. Just some ideas I have for the new clock tower.”

  She holds out her hand. “May I.”

  I remove the file and hand it to her.

  She opens it and looks over my drawings.

  “They’re rough. I didn’t have a lot of time today to work on them.”

  “They’re fabulous, Drake.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and bathe in her praise. I want Mary to like me. I want her approval, but I don’t know why I seek it.

  “Can I pass them on to Lewis?”

  “Yes, of course. Why was the meeting cancelled?”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Okay. A little lost here.”

  “It was earlier today.”

  “Oh,” I say stupidity. I’m confounded to say the least. “I guess I didn’t get the memo. Did you go?”

  “Oh, God no. I haven’t been on the committee for—” She looks up at James. “—how long has it been, James?”

  “I’d say going on six years, ma’am.”

  “What is this?”

  “What is what, dear? Oh. Sorry. What is what, Drake?”

  “The meeting.” I spread my arms. “This.”

  “It’s a 1957 Mercedes Landaulet, sir,” James tells me.

  “Oh dear God in heaven.” I rub my now throbbing temples.

  “Headache?” Mary asks.

  I nod.

  “I’m sure we have some painkiller. Do we have some painkiller, James?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says and opens the glove box, removes a first aid kit, and hands it to me over the seat.

  “Thanks.” I find two tablets and swallow them.

  “I could never do that.” Mary says.

  “Do what?”

  “Swallow pills without water.”

  “Seriously. What’s going on?” I ask her.

  “We’re playing a game.”

  “We are?”

  “I should have said you are. But if it makes you feel better, I’m putting together a puzzle.”

  “What?”

  “Do you like games?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “If you had to choose one, what would you choose?”

  “Monopoly.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You said choose one.”

  “If you had to compare our game to a real game, James. What would it be?”

  “Chess, ma’am.”

  “That’s exactly what it is? Well done, James.”

  I look between them. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “We’re not playing Clue, Sir Drake,” James tells me.

  “I know that.”

  “I was just—”

  “Pulling?”

  He smiles i
nto the rearview mirror. “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you say Drake is a king at this stage of the game, James?”

  “I would, ma’am.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  James pulls onto the highway.

  “Where are we going?” I ask no one in particular.

  “A place I hope you will adore as much as I do,” Mary says.

  I nod.

  “Drake,” she says.

  “Yes.”

  She smiles. “Your name makes me smile.”

  “Why?”

  “Nancy and her Perry Mason?”

  “My mom?”

  She nods.

  “Who’s Perry Mason?”

  “Daaa. Daaa. Da—dum,” James singsongs.

  Mary chuckles.

  “What?”

  “Your mother loved Perry Mason. Drake was…” She looks at James. “Who was Drake?”

  “I believe he was the DA, ma’am.”

  “I think you’re right, James.”

  “My mom named me after a TV character?”

  Mary nods.

  James pulls off the highway and looks into his rearview mirror.

  “How are things, James?”

  “All’s good, ma’am. No one’s tagging us.”

  “Tagging us?” I ask.

  “James watches too much TV. He means following us.”

  “Why would anybody be following us?”

  “They’re not following us. They’re following you,” she tells me.

  “Me? Why?”

  “Terrance doesn’t trust you, not yet anyway.”

  “Why wouldn’t he trust me? Especially after…”

  “What you did?”

  I nod.

  “I think it’s the wedding thing. That wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I see,” Mary says.

  “What do you see?”

  “When someone tells you they don’t want to talk about it, it’s more telling than if they talked about it.”

  I give in. “No, it wasn’t in the plan. But you’d know that?”

  “Why would I know that?”

  “The whole thing was partly your idea.”

  “Is that what Terrance told you?”

  “Yes.”

  She frowns.

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No, Drake. I had nothing to do with your… scheme. I didn’t even know of your existence until right before the trail.”

  “Why would he lie about that?”

  “Because Terrance is a coward. I would have never asked anyone to do what you did. What you did disgusts me.”

  “Disgusts you? I did it for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Partly for you. I gave you your justice.”

  “I see, an eye for an eye.”

  “Yes. What she did was disgusting.”