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Authors: John Grisham
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now. It’s been so long.”
“It’s been nine years.”
“Not that long. I went back to see her a few times after she died.”
Keith showed him both palms and said, “I don’t want to hear it. Suppose I call Drumm’s lawyer and tell him about the body. I won’t give your name, but at least someone down there knows the truth.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a lawyer. Maybe I can convince someone. I’m willing to try.”
“The only person who can possibly find her is me, and I can’t leave the state of Kansas. Hell, I can’t leave this county. If I do, they’ll bust me for parole violations and send me back to prison. Pastor, I ain’t going back to prison.”
“What difference does it make, Travis? You’ll be dead in a few months, according to your own words.”
Boyette became very calm and still and began tapping his fingertips together. He stared at Keith with hard, dry, unblinking eyes. He spoke softly, but firmly. “Pastor, I can’t admit to a murder.”
“Why not? You have at least four felony convictions, all related to sexual assault. You’ve spent most of your adult life in prison. You have an inoperable brain tumor. You actually committed the murder. Why not have the courage to admit it and save an innocent man’s life?”
“My mother is still alive.”
“Where does she live?”
“Joplin, Missouri.”
“And her name?”
“You gonna give her a call, Pastor?”
“No. I won’t bother her. What’s her name?”
“Susan Boyette.”
“And she lived on Trotter Street, right?”
“How’d you—?”
“Your mother died three years ago, Travis.”
“How’d you—?”
“Google, took about ten minutes.”
“What’s Google?”
“An Internet search company. What else are you lying about? How many lies have you told me today, Travis?”
“If I’m lying, then why are you here?”
“I don’t know. That’s an excellent question. You tell a good story and you have a bad record, but you can’t prove anything.”
Boyette shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his cheeks turned red andhis eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to prove anything. I’m not the accused, for a change.”
“Her gym card and student ID were found on a sandbar in the Red River. How does that fit into your story?”
“Her phone was in her purse. As soon as I got her, the damned thing started ringing and wouldn’t stop. Finally, I got mad, grabbed the purse, and threw it off the bridge. I kept the girl, though. I needed her. She reminds me of your wife, very cute.”
“Shut up, Travis,” Keith said instinctively, before he could stop himself. He took a deep breath and patiently said, “Let’s keep my wife out of this.”
“Sorry, Pastor.” Boyette removed a thin chain from around his neck. “You want proof, Pastor. Take a look at this.” A gold class ring with a blue stone was attached to the chain. Boyette unsnapped the chain and handed the ring to Keith. It was narrow and small, obviously worn by a female. “That’s ANY on one side,” Boyette said with a smile. “Alicia Nicole Yarber. On the other side, you have SHS 1999. Dear old Slone High.”
Keith squeezed the ring between his thumb and his forefinger, and stared at it in disbelief.
“Show that to her mother and watch her weep,” Boyette said. “The only other proof I have, Pastor, is Nicole herself, and the more I think about her, the more I’m convinced that we should just leave her alone.”
Keith placed the ring on the table and Boyette took it. He suddenly kicked his chair back, grabbed his cane, and stood. “I don’t like being called a liar, Pastor. Go home and have fun with your wife.”
“Liar, rapist, murderer, and you’re also a coward, Travis. Why don’t you do something good for once in your life? And quick, before it’s too late.”
“Just leave me alone.” Boyette opened the door, then slammed it behind him.
CHAPTER 6
T he prosecution’s theory of guilt had been based in part on
“It’s been nine years.”
“Not that long. I went back to see her a few times after she died.”
Keith showed him both palms and said, “I don’t want to hear it. Suppose I call Drumm’s lawyer and tell him about the body. I won’t give your name, but at least someone down there knows the truth.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a lawyer. Maybe I can convince someone. I’m willing to try.”
“The only person who can possibly find her is me, and I can’t leave the state of Kansas. Hell, I can’t leave this county. If I do, they’ll bust me for parole violations and send me back to prison. Pastor, I ain’t going back to prison.”
“What difference does it make, Travis? You’ll be dead in a few months, according to your own words.”
Boyette became very calm and still and began tapping his fingertips together. He stared at Keith with hard, dry, unblinking eyes. He spoke softly, but firmly. “Pastor, I can’t admit to a murder.”
“Why not? You have at least four felony convictions, all related to sexual assault. You’ve spent most of your adult life in prison. You have an inoperable brain tumor. You actually committed the murder. Why not have the courage to admit it and save an innocent man’s life?”
“My mother is still alive.”
“Where does she live?”
“Joplin, Missouri.”
“And her name?”
“You gonna give her a call, Pastor?”
“No. I won’t bother her. What’s her name?”
“Susan Boyette.”
“And she lived on Trotter Street, right?”
“How’d you—?”
“Your mother died three years ago, Travis.”
“How’d you—?”
“Google, took about ten minutes.”
“What’s Google?”
“An Internet search company. What else are you lying about? How many lies have you told me today, Travis?”
“If I’m lying, then why are you here?”
“I don’t know. That’s an excellent question. You tell a good story and you have a bad record, but you can’t prove anything.”
Boyette shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his cheeks turned red andhis eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to prove anything. I’m not the accused, for a change.”
“Her gym card and student ID were found on a sandbar in the Red River. How does that fit into your story?”
“Her phone was in her purse. As soon as I got her, the damned thing started ringing and wouldn’t stop. Finally, I got mad, grabbed the purse, and threw it off the bridge. I kept the girl, though. I needed her. She reminds me of your wife, very cute.”
“Shut up, Travis,” Keith said instinctively, before he could stop himself. He took a deep breath and patiently said, “Let’s keep my wife out of this.”
“Sorry, Pastor.” Boyette removed a thin chain from around his neck. “You want proof, Pastor. Take a look at this.” A gold class ring with a blue stone was attached to the chain. Boyette unsnapped the chain and handed the ring to Keith. It was narrow and small, obviously worn by a female. “That’s ANY on one side,” Boyette said with a smile. “Alicia Nicole Yarber. On the other side, you have SHS 1999. Dear old Slone High.”
Keith squeezed the ring between his thumb and his forefinger, and stared at it in disbelief.
“Show that to her mother and watch her weep,” Boyette said. “The only other proof I have, Pastor, is Nicole herself, and the more I think about her, the more I’m convinced that we should just leave her alone.”
Keith placed the ring on the table and Boyette took it. He suddenly kicked his chair back, grabbed his cane, and stood. “I don’t like being called a liar, Pastor. Go home and have fun with your wife.”
“Liar, rapist, murderer, and you’re also a coward, Travis. Why don’t you do something good for once in your life? And quick, before it’s too late.”
“Just leave me alone.” Boyette opened the door, then slammed it behind him.
CHAPTER 6
T he prosecution’s theory of guilt had been based in part on
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