Jude saw Taybee’s finger tapping her leg, a Morse code from her autonomic nervous system telegraphing her anxiety in triplicate.
“Chief Stevens said an old fishing net was wrapped around the propeller. He told me Daddy must’ve dropped anchor and jumped into the water to unwrap the net. Next thing, the dam reverted. Water came rushing up. Daddy didn’t have time to get out of the way.”
Taybee’s finger stopped tapping. She looked at Jude.
“That sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds like an accident.”
“Except the temperature of the water was seventy that day. It’s right there in the police report. Daddy never put on his waders unless it was south of sixty-five. He wouldn’t have even had them in the boat, let alone put them on.”
Jude leaned her arm on the back of the bench. “What about the fuel?”
Taybee wagged her finger at Jude. “You sniffed it out. The water was smooth that day. Daddy should’ve had at least two-thirds left in the tank, but it was dry as a bone. The engine would’ve braked when the net got caught up in the propeller, so it’s not like it kept running. Almost like somebody staged the whole thing.”
“Do you still have copies of the police report?”
“Cousin, I’ve got everything. All the paperwork and pictures. Even got the boat in dry dock. I had an independent medical examiner look at the autopsy years ago. She told me everything on his body fits the story. Daddy didn’t have any scratches or defensive wounds. Two of his fingernails were broken off at the quick, but that could’ve happened when he tried to grab on to the boat when the water started to pull him down. There’s two deep gouges in the paint on the hull. Whoever put him in that water knew what they were doing.”
“You were in college when it happened,” Jude remembered. “Did your mother think anything was off?”
“No, but I went to your daddy and I asked him what he thought.” Taybee patted her hand to her chest three times. She was trying to tamp down the anxiety. “He told me I might beright, but there was a difference between being right and proving it in court. It’s one of the reasons I went into family practice instead of criminal law. I can’t stand the idea of bad people getting away with bad things. At least if I’m fighting for somebody in a divorce, I know I have a chance of winning.”
Jude trod carefully. “Your father was a juror on a very important trial when he died.”
“Oh, yeah, I know all about that. Gerald told me if somebody killed my daddy, it’s because Ezekial Gilchrist paid them to do it.”
Jude felt a strange sensation in her heart—a swell of pride for her father. He’d figured this out decades before them. “Did you ever speak to any of the other jurors?”
“One of them was at Daddy’s funeral. Bless his heart, he was the only person there whose name isn’t on a street sign or a building. Bell-something.”
“Mitch Bellingham?”
“Sounds right,” Taybee said. “He was gruff, kind of unpolished. Not used to wearing a suit, that’s for sure. But he told me Daddy was a good man. That he would make sure his death wasn’t in vain.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“I guess that he would be a good juror in the trial? That he would make sure his voice was heard?” Taybee shrugged. “I didn’t think to push him. My mama had to be drugged to get through the funeral and my brothers were all falling apart. One of us had to hold it together, and I guess that job fell on me.”
Jude saw her start tapping the code on her leg again. Taking on that job had come at a cost. “Taybee, I think your father would’ve been very proud of you.”
Taybee smiled. “Cousin, I think your father would’ve been very proud of you, too.”
Jude was glad at least one of them was telling the truth. “Can you drive me back to your house and let me see the files you have on your father?”
“Of course.” Taybee stood up. “And I’ve got four types of cobbler and loads of ice cream. I tried to give it to Kaitlynn but,bless her heart, she’s gone off sweets. That baby’s driving her crazy.”
She kept rambling as Jude felt her phone vibrate. She didn’t need her glasses to read the screen. Her heart lurched, because Emmy would only be calling right now if something had gone very wrong.
Jude tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “Emmy?”
There was no response.
“Emmy Lou?”
“Uh—” Emmy took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Her throat was making a dry clicking sound. “J-Jude.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Jude was mindful that Taybee was listening. “I’ll be right there.”
