Chapter 5
The trouble had already begun, not a block from City Hall. Police Chief Ray Hale had no intention of allowing this first wave of community reaction to trigger a domino effect. It was his job to ensure this kind of thing didn’t happen.
For ten years his town and the people he served had gone on with their lives, allowing old wounds to heal and a painful tragedy to fade into memory.
Now the worst of Pine Bluff’s past had been resurrected, and there appeared to be nothing he could do to stop the gathering momentum.
He felt the shift in the air like the accumulating charge of an electrical storm.
Ray had thought the weight of responsibility he felt would lessen once Clint Austin was a free man again.
But that hadn’t happened. If anything, the reverse was true, considering the reality Ray had faced this morning.
The man he’d brought home from prison now wore a hard mask of chilling indifference.
Strict regulations had required that Clint keep his black hair shorter than before.
The pallor that spoke of little or no exposure to the sunlight had stolen the glow of youth and vigor he’d once radiated.
Sometime during his incarceration, a nasty laceration had left a prominent scar just beneath his left cheekbone.
His lean, wiry frame had morphed into a more heavily muscled build.
But the most telling change was in his eyes.
Dull, lifeless gray reflecting an unnerving emptiness.
No, Clint was not the same man Ray had known back in high school, or even in those final days before the trial had ended. For that, he felt deep regret.
Troy Baker and his friends had orchestrated a protest to publicly lodge their complaints regarding Clint’s return.
Ray heaved a lungful of frustration. Troy was a good man, under normal circumstances very levelheaded.
But this situation was anything but normal.
Troy’s sister had been the victim. His family had tried everything to ensure Clint didn’t win that long-in-coming appeal.
In the end, Heather’s parents had accepted the decision made by the court.
What else could they do? Troy’s intentions, however, had not changed and were as obvious as if he’d thrown down a gauntlet.
He would not rest until he ensured Clint paid the price for Heather’s murder.
If Ray could talk some sense into Troy, that one step would go a long way in keeping down the trouble.
Others would be taking their cues from his actions.
The chances were slim to none, but Ray had to try.
To escape the crowd still loitering outside, Deputy Chief Mike Caruthers herded the ringleaders of the disturbance into Lee Brady’s office, giving the whole lot a good chewing out along the way.
Mike’s red hair and multitude of freckles gave him the look of a big kid, but he was no pushover.
Ray counted on him more than anyone else in the department.
They’d been best friends since first grade, had graduated high school together and gone on to the police academy to serve the town they loved.
Mike had no patience for this business either.
He was just as pissed off at these guys and was making no bones about it.
For the most part, Pine Bluff was a picturesque Southern town filled with law-abiding citizens, where life was generally peaceful and uncomplicated.
A place where folks supported one another through the good times as well as the bad.
The problem was, Clint Austin’s release didn’t fit neatly into either of those categories.
As God-fearing folks, the citizens of Pine Bluff would want to support a man’s bid for a second chance.
But anyone who offered a hand to Austin was, in effect, turning a hand against the Bakers.
In their eyes—Troy’s in particular—Clint would always be a killer.
Only time would make a difference, and only if folks would let it.
Lee Brady sidled up next to Ray. “I hope this isn’t any indication of what’s to come.”
Ray wanted to reassure the man who had offered to help Clint, because it was the right thing to do, but Ray couldn’t make any real guarantees, especially in light of Clint’s own attitude. “I’ll do all I can, Lee.”
Troy Baker ambled into the office last, with Mike’s prodding, and aimed his considerable fury at Ray. “Did you drive all the way to Holman to pick up that murdering son of a bitch?”
Ray steeled himself for the full brunt of the storm. Telling Troy to take a breath would be pointless. “Yes, I did. I felt it was my duty as chief of police to escort Austin back to town and to ensure he understood what I’d be expecting of him now that he’s back.”
“I can’t believe you’d take his side,” Troy roared. His hands planted on his hips, he turned to his accomplices. “My sister is dead and our chief is seeing after the needs of her killer.”
The flash from Grady Lassiter’s camera signaled that he’d captured the moment on film.
Lassiter was co-owner of the Pine Bluff Sentinel and was undoubtedly only too happy to be on hand to document the whole drama for the local paper.
By tomorrow morning even those folks who’d moved to Pine Bluff since the trial would know all about Clint Austin and the gruesome, singular murder in the town’s history.
Sides would be taken and the community would be torn apart all over again.
Larry Medford, Perry Woods, and Keith Turner—the same Turner whose daddy had donated to the department an entire fleet of brand-new official vehicles, including two four-wheel-drive Jeeps—stood in the background.
All except Keith worked at the aluminum plant with Troy, and unlike the others, Keith appeared to have kept his cool.
Seemed a little ironic to Ray, considering Keith had more reason than most to be out of sorts.
But he’d learned to maintain his composure from the man who wrote the book on perception and power—Granville Turner.
Keith’s dear old daddy owned half the county and was another citizen who wouldn’t be happy about Clint’s release.
Ray knew he’d be hearing from Granville any time now. Just something else to look forward to.
“Ray,” Keith said with all the calm self-assurance he’d learned from his old man, “we don’t want Austin back here. All he’ll do is remind us of what we’ve lost. We just want to protect our wives and children, and our community. That’s what this protest was really about.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Troy snarled, still glaring at Ray. “He’s been helping Austin all along. I heard he visited that bastard several times over the past couple months. Didn’t you, Chief?”
Ray tamped down his irritation. Somebody had to think rationally in this situation, no matter that Troy’s blatant disrespect made Ray want to kick him square in the ass.
“Yes, I did,” Ray confirmed. “Clint Austin’s conviction was overturned.
Even the DA will tell you there is not sufficient evidence to attempt trying him again—meaning there is nothing we can do legally.
He’s a free man and he has every right to return to his home if he wishes.
I represent all the citizens of this town, Troy, not just a chosen few.
I intend to see that Austin is treated fairly.
That’s my duty. You’d be doing the whole town a favor if you settled down and tried to act like the Christian son I know your mama and daddy raised. ”
The words did not have the desired effect.
“You go right ahead and do your duty,” Troy threatened, “but don’t think for a second I’ll ignore mine.
She was my sister, damn you, and I won’t let her killer roam the streets a free man without trying to make his life the living hell it should be. That’s my duty.”
The challenge was on the table, but Ray wasn’t going there with all Troy’s buddies chomping at the bit for a fight.
“This public spectacle was not only uncalled for—it was conducted without a permit.” Ray made eye contact with each man in turn.
“You’d all be well advised to remember that Austin has rights the same as you.
We may not always agree with the law, but we all have an innate responsibility to abide by that law.
I don’t want to hear of any of you letting emotion cause you to cross that line. ”
“That line,” Troy butted in with a dramatic slam of his fist against Lee’s desk, “has already been crossed.” With that, he did an about-face and exited. His supporters filed out right behind him.
“Damn, Ray,” Mike said with a shake of his head. “They aren’t going to make this easy. I don’t think there’s a man in the department who would want to be in your shoes right now.”
Ray doubted there was a soul on earth who’d willingly take his place just now.
But the truly disturbing part was that this was only the beginning—day one.
“We’ll just have to do what we have to do.
” Certainly, none of the players, Clint and Troy in particular, seemed inclined to play nice.
That left the full burden of acting as mediator and keeping down the risk of unnecessary trouble squarely on Ray’s back.
Mike hitched a thumb toward the door. “I’ll make sure they go on home.”
Ray nodded. “Don’t forget to drive by the Austin place.”
“Will do,” his deputy and friend called on his way out.
Technically the Austin place was just outside Pine Bluff city limits and fell under the county’s jurisdiction.
But Ray had briefed the sheriff on the situation, and they had worked out an agreement on how any trouble would be handled.
Ray and his officers would take care of whatever came up unless they needed backup, and then the sheriff’s department would step in.
This was Pine Bluff’s mess, and Ray wanted to handle it personally.
He knew these folks; they knew him. The last thing he wanted was for someone who wasn’t familiar with the situation to make a rash decision.
If Troy had a lick of sense, he would stay away from Clint.
The man Ray brought home today gave the subtle but undeniable impression of danger.
Clint Austin had spent the last ten years in one of the harshest prisons in the country.
No one walked away without scars. Some thought the killers and rapists behind those bars deserved no better.
Ray didn’t exactly disagree. Unless they were innocent . . .
He stopped himself. Why the hell was he going down that road?
There was no changing the past, no righting old wrongs or chances for doing over stupid mistakes.
There was only here and now and the choices to be made from this moment forward.
Everything else was pretty much a waste of time.
That was the point he needed to get across to everyone, including Clint.
As hard as life in prison had been, what Clint was about to face might be worse. Running interference on his behalf was imperative. Ray owed him that.
Truth was, Ray owed him a hell of a lot more. But the truth was something that wouldn’t help anyone now. Not poor dead Heather Baker. And not the angry, bitter Clint Austin.
Some things were better left in the past, where they belonged.