“Tell me about Judge Coberg,” Mike said. “He seemed to know more about you than just the fact that you cut grass and grow vegetables.”
“I never worked for him regular, but when I did, he always paid me on time.”
“There must be more to it than that. He’s going to notify the DA’s office that his relationship with you may justify his removal from the case. He didn’t give me any details, but I suspect you’ve had conversations with him similar to what you’ve told me.”
“He’s not one of my sons. We never talked too much, and he was always at the courthouse or out of town when I worked at his house.”
“He said you were a different type of person.”
Sam smiled. “That could be said about him, too.”
They reached Mike’s car and got in. Sam settled in the leather seat and sighed.
“This sure is comfortable. I’ve missed my recliner at home.”
Sam gave directions to his house then immediately closed his eyes. Mike wasn’t sure if his client was awake or asleep.
After they passed the west edge of commercial development for Shelton, fewer and fewer houses dotted the countryside. There weren’t many farms in the rocky soil of Barlow County. Most of the people who lived outside the city limits did so because land was cheaper and neighbors more distant. Like Sam, they drove into the more populated areas to work. When they came to a stop sign, Sam opened his eyes and looked at Mike.
“You know one thing I learned in jail?” Sam asked.
“I guess you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”
“It’s something you’ll agree with. You bringing up Lou Jasper the other day got me thinking. Papa showed me that sometimes I run my mouth when I ought to keep quiet. Even after all these years, I get excited when He shows me something and look for the first chance to tell it.”
“If the Lord really reveals something to you, it’s understandable that you would be excited.”
“But it’s not an excuse for loose lips. The right word in the wrong time is as bad as the wrong word in the right time. I need to call Lou and apologize.”
Mike, temporarily caught in the convoluted web of Sam’s logic, didn’t immediately respond.
“Uh, I’m not sure I follow you, but I don’t see why an apology is necessary. You said Lou Jasper didn’t follow through on what you shared with him.”
“That’s his problem. I have to deal with mine.”
They turned onto McAfee Road.
“Which house is yours?” Mike asked.
“A half mile on the left,” Sam said. “It’s yellow with blue shutters and sits on top of a little hill. You can’t miss it.”
They passed a mailbox resting on a car tire painted white and partially buried in the ground. A few stodgy Angus cattle glanced up from a field on the right-hand side of the road. They drove up a steep driveway to a small frame dwelling.
“Could you park in front of my truck so you can give me a jump before you leave?” Sam asked.
They got out of the car. Muriel came onto the small front stoop. Mike held back while Sam walked quickly across the grass and climbed three concrete steps to greet her. They embraced. Mike could tell that Muriel was crying. He looked away. When Sam turned around, his eyes were red, too.
“Toss me the keys to your truck, and I’ll hook up the jumper cables,” Mike said, backing away. “You need to spend time together without me interfering.”
“Don’t be silly,” Muriel said with a wave of her hand. “Come in the house. You can mess with that old truck later.”
“She’s right,” Sam added. “We won’t keep you long.”
The interior of the small house looked surprisingly normal. Mike wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Sam Miller didn’t live in a cave. He glanced around the modestly furnished yet meticulously clean room. Muriel went into the kitchen and returned to the living room with two glasses of iced tea. Sam, sitting in a fat recliner, squeezed a thick slice of lemon in his glass and took a deep drink.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said. “This is delicious.”
Mike positioned himself on a plaid sofa and took a sip.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s very good.”
Muriel, a glass of water in her hand, looked at Sam. Mike saw her expression change to one of alarm and concern.
“What happened to your face?”
She kept her lips pressed tightly together while Sam related the story of the attack.
“It wasn’t near as bad as some of the licks I took when we first got married,” Sam said. “Getting hit by four drunk sailors who thought they could whip two Marines was a lot worse.”