The thought of cuddling up in Mama’s arms held a lot of appeal to me.
“Mostly work matters that I can’t discuss. Is Daddy there?”
“No, he and Kyle are out again checking on some cows. I think Kyle is going to make enough money to get a new truck by the end of the summer.”
“Maybe his cattle business will get big enough that he’ll need a corporate attorney.”
“I told Daddy about the young lawyer who wants to get to know you better.”
“That’s not an—”
Mama kept talking. “He agrees with me that you should keep your distance until we can meet him. However, we talked it over, and you can bring him home for the July Fourth holiday if he can give you a ride home.”
The thought of a five-hour ride in the sidecar followed by the shock on my parents’ faces when Zach parked the motorcycle beneath the poplar tree in our front yard made me smile. Of course, Zach owned a car, but in my mind he was inextricably linked to the motorcycle.
“That’s sweet of you, Mama, but I’m not sure I want to invite him.” I paused. “However, there is someone else, one of the summer clerks who’s a Christian and very nice. He lives in Charleston, so I don’t know what he’s doing for the holiday, and I may have to stay here to prepare a court case. If I can get away, and Vince wants to drive me home for a visit, would that be okay?”
“Who is Vince?” Mama sounded slightly bewildered.
I told her a little more about him. As I talked I realized that compared to Zach Mays, I had little to hide about the brilliant law student.
“And he maintains his Christian witness at Yale?” Mama asked.
“Yes ma’am. He’s had to face challenges and overcome them, just like me.”
“I’ll mention it to your daddy.”
“Thanks. Now, tell me about the twins, the garden, Bobby, church, the chickens, the dogs, anything about home.”
LATER THAT NIGHT in my apartment, I read the old newspapers, seeking more information about the mob described by Mrs. Bartlett. Two-thirds of the way through the stack, I found a second-page article. Scant on details, it was obviously a major event that should have received front-page coverage. A group of fifty men invaded the black district in response to “unfounded rumors” related to Lisa Prescott’s disappearance. Rocks were thrown, windows broken, and a fire started in the front yard of one residence. The mob was confronted by a squad of police officers that included several on horseback. Five men were arrested for disorderly conduct, and the rest dispersed. The incident wasn’t mentioned again.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, the receptionist stopped me when I arrived at the office.
“Vince Colbert wants to see you,” she said. “He’s in the small conference room near Mr. Braddock’s office.”
Puzzled, I went to the opposite end of the building from the library. The conference room door was shut. I knocked.
“Come in,” Vince called out.
Vince, his laptop open before him, was sitting at one end of the shiny table. He always wore a suit, tie, and starched shirt. This morning he’d taken off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Sorry about court yesterday.”
“It was a blow. What happened in your case?”
“No problems. My client will be on the road in his quieter car by the weekend. But I spent time last night doing some research that I wanted to tell you about.”
“You came back to the office last night?”
“Yes, there is a code needed after eleven o’clock. I can give it to you—”
“I know,” I interrupted. “What were you looking into?”
“Please shut the door and sit down.”
I closed the conference room door and sat in a chair beside him.
“Careful with the jacket,” he said. “I have a meeting in an hour with Mr. Braddock and one of his clients.”
“Sorry.” I moved the jacket to the back of another chair.
“I’ve been doing some research to update the firm website. This firm has been in existence since 1888,” Vince began. “The founding partners were Mr. Braddock’s great-grandfather and an attorney named Vernon Fletchall. After Mr. Fletchall died, the firm was simply known as the Braddock firm until Mr. Braddock brought in another partner in the early 1900s. Mr. Braddock’s son joined the firm, and about thirty years later his grandson, the current Mr. Braddock’s father, a man named Lawrence, who graduated from Vanderbilt after World War II, started practicing in Savannah. In the meantime, the founding Mr. Braddock died and not long after that, his son also died.”