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Authors: James Sheehan

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B
ack at the station, forensics did the fingerprint analysis on the bowie knife and found a match from the NCIC computer. Five
members of the SWAT team accompanied six members of the task force, including Danni, Allan, and Sam Jeffries, to Thomas Felton’s
apartment to pick him up at eleven o’clock that morning.

When they were sure all the exits from the building were covered, Sam rang the doorbell to Felton’s apartment. After that,
he moved back as the SWAT team positioned itself in place to break the door down after allowing a reasonable period of time—not
more than five minutes—to pass. Danni sidled next to Sam just in case. She knew where his gun was holstered. If Felton opened
that door in the next minute or so, Sam might decide to just blow his head off.

Felton did just that: Without even asking who it was, he opened the front door dressed in his skivvies. Two of the SWAT team
members grabbed him immediately and forced him to the floor on his knees with his head smelling whatever sweet aroma the carpeting
was emitting at that moment. Sam had the honor of reading Felton his rights. It was good to keep him occupied.

“Thomas Felton, you are under arrest for the murders of Vanessa Brock and Pedro Diaz. You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot
afford one, an attorney will be provided for you at no cost to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read
to you?”

One of the uniformed police officers had a small handheld camera focused on both Sam and Felton, memorializing the event.
No need to fuck up a good arrest with a procedural violation. Felton nodded his head.

“You need to respond verbally,” Sam told him. For a moment, Danni thought Sam might just kick Felton in the head. He was positioned
perfectly and Felton’s head just hung out there like a soccer ball.

Come on, answer!
Danni said to herself.
Just answer the damn question before he loses it and kills you right here and now!

“I understand what you said to me but I’m innocent,” Felton replied. “I didn’t kill anybody. You’ve got the wrong man.”

“We’ll see about that, dickhead,” Sam answered. “You’re going down. And don’t be fooled: that cocktail they give you up in
Raiford—it may be quick but it’s awful painful. They just paralyze you so nobody can tell.”

Danni looked at the officer holding the camera. Unfortunately, he’d caught it all on tape, including Sam’s diatribe. They’d
have to explain that away down the road. She slipped her arm around Sam’s as the SWAT guys started to move Felton to a police
vehicle.

“Come on, Sam. It’s all over,” she said.

“It won’t be over until that son of a bitch is dead. And it won’t even be over then,” Sam said. “It won’t be over till I’m
dead and my kids are dead and all those other kids’ families are dead. Then it will be over.”

Eight Years Later
October 2001
Bass Creek, Florida

J
ack, will you get me a beer while you’re down there?” Henry Wilson asked his friend Jack Tobin as he sat in one of the captain’s
chairs at the stern of the thirty-two-foot Sea Ray with a fishing pole in his hand. It was a calm, sunny day on Lake Okeechobee.
The fish were jumping but they weren’t biting.

Jack was in the galley frying hamburgers for lunch. It was just the two of them, as usual on a Saturday afternoon.

“Sure, Henry. Can I get you anything else, like an extra cushion for your chair or a frosty mug for your beer?”

“Just the bottle will do, Jack, but hurry up, will you?”

“You’d better be careful. You don’t want to mess with the cook,” Jack said as he handed Henry his beer.

“I forgot about that rule. Don’t spit on my burger. By the way, Bobby Flay, when are we eating?”

“Why? Do you have something important to do out here on the lake that I don’t know about?”

The lake was empty. There wasn’t a boat in sight.

Henry took a sip of his beer.

“You never know. It’s kinda like these fish. One of them is going to show up in this boat sooner or later.”

The banter went on like that all day. They were an odd couple, to say the least, and the origin of their friendship was even
more unusual. Henry had been a prisoner on death row with eight weeks to live when Jack became his lawyer. Eight weeks later
he was a free man. Jack’s wife, Pat, was sick at the time, and she eventually died. Henry had helped Jack through those bad
times, and they’d been close friends ever since.

Henry lived in Miami and Jack in a small town called Bass Creek that bordered the lake. Henry came up most weekends and they
usually went fishing. It was a good-sized boat, but there was barely room for both of them. Henry was a six-foot-five bear
of a man and Jack was six-foot-two although he was much thinner.

“You need to put some meat on those bones,” Henry told him when the burgers were cooked and Jack was sitting next to him.
“Maybe you need to add fries and onion rings and some ribs to these meals.”

Jack laughed. He had a good appetite but he worked out almost every day and stayed slim. Besides, nobody could eat like Henry.

“The women like me just the way I am, Henry.”

“What women? I haven’t seen you with a woman in ages. Probably ’cause they think you’re too skinny. I don’t know about your
white women, but black women don’t like skinny men. Won’t even look at you twice.”

Henry had unknowingly hit on a sore spot. Jack had been feeling a bit lonely lately and thinking that perhaps it was time
for him to find a companion to share his life. There would never be anyone to replace his late wife, Pat, but he knew Pat
didn’t want him moping around the house either. She wanted him to be happy. He couldn’t see her but he knew that she was the
one pushing him out the door.

“I’ve been thinking about moving, Henry.”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong. I love Bass Creek but it’s dead. And there’s only so much fishing a man can do.”

“I hear you, brother. You’re still a young man and, frankly, there are too many memories here that might keep you from starting
fresh. Where were you thinking of going?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just thrown it out there to the universe and I’m going to wait to see what comes at me in the near future.”

“You know I love you, Jack, but you’re weird. What the hell is that—you’re going to wait for the universe to throw something
at you? Is that some kind of religion you and Pat cooked up in that little cove of yours?”

Henry had heard many stories about Jack and Pat’s special place, a little cove hidden off the Okalatchee River near where
the river intersected with the lake. They claimed that they communed with nature and the spirits there. Henry had never visited
it because it had been so special to them.

“You might call it that, Henry. Just look around. Out here where man has not been, it’s perfect. Didn’t the Indians look to
nature as their god?”

“You’re a good lawyer, Jack, but that’s a bad argument. Look what happened to the Indians. They suffered more degradation
at the hands of the white man than my people did. And that reminds me, what am I hanging around with you for?”

They both laughed and took a sip of their beer.

“The Indians did real well when it was just them and nature.”

“Okay, Jack. You’re entitled to think whatever you want. I just hope you don’t wait too long for some bird to come whispering
in your ear.”

T
he universe called the next day in the form of Wanda Reardon, an old friend and client of Jack’s. Wanda was a single mother
with five children, ranging in age from twenty-one to twelve. An attractive African-American woman in her midforties who worked
night and day, Wanda had come to Jack a year and a half ago because she had been involved in a car accident.

Jack had made his living and amassed a small fortune defending insurance companies in personal injury actions before he retired
to Bass Creek. He hadn’t defended a case as small as the one Wanda brought to him in twenty years, and he had represented
very few plaintiffs in his career. Besides that, he had embarked on a new vocation representing death row inmates. It didn’t
pay at all, but Jack was not looking for money at this stage of his life.

Wanda had made an impression on him that first day. She was a determined woman who refused to let life defeat her. Her accident
had caused her to be out of work for six weeks and, since she lived on the margin, that brief period of time had almost crippled
the family. Wanda had lost her job as a practical nurse and was unable to find another.

It had taken two letters and a phone call for Jack to settle Wanda’s case for twice as much as it was worth. The insurance
adjuster handling the matter took one look at the name of the attorney representing Wanda and coughed up the money. Jack had
left the practice of civil law but his reputation remained. He had also made some inquiries at the hospital about why his
client had lost her job after she was in an automobile accident. It didn’t take the hospital long to get the message. Wanda
was offered her old job back.

It was nine o’clock on Sunday morning when Wanda knocked on Jack’s door. Both Jack and Henry were up and about, getting ready
for another day of fishing. Jack answered the door.

“Wanda, how are you? Boy, it’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has, Jack. Yes, it has.” Wanda gave him a big hug. “You need to come over to the house for some good home cooking.”
As she said the words, she gave him the look that Henry had given him the day before. The one that said “you need to put some
meat on those bones.”

“I will for sure, Wanda, but you didn’t come all the way over here to invite me for dinner. Come on in and tell me how you’re
doing.”

He led her to the living room and offered her a comfortable spot on the couch. Henry was in the kitchen making coffee.

“You remember Henry, don’t you?”

Wanda smiled. “I sure do.”

Henry smiled back from the kitchen. Jack sensed there might be something more between the two of them than just knowing each
other’s names.

“Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you on the Lord’s Day. And I’m too troubled to eat or drink.” She did appear upset although not
too upset to smile at Henry.

“What’s the problem, Wanda? How can I help?” Jack sat down on the couch next to her.

“It’s my son Julian. You remember him, Jack. You went to one of his football games with me up in Oakville.”

“I do. What a great athlete.”

A smile again came to Wanda’s face, but for only an instant. “Yes, he is, but he’s in trouble. He’s about to lose everything.
Everything he and I have worked so hard for.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Some girl up there at the university claimed he tried to rape her. Now, Julian is no angel, but I talked to him and he told
me he’s innocent. He says the girl is just making it up. The press is all over him because the football team is having a lot
of these kinds of problems. He needs a lawyer bad, Jack.”

It was not a case that Jack would normally take. There were plenty of good criminal lawyers who could handle a case like this,
but Wanda was a friend and she had no money. That was the unspoken conversation between them. Jack knew Julian and he liked
him but he didn’t know if he was innocent or not. If he had tried to rape the girl, Jack was not going to help him.

It occurred to him as he sat next to Wanda that maybe something else was going on here. Maybe he was supposed to go to Oakville.
He’d been there many times and his good friend Ron owned The Swamp, the most popular bar and restaurant in town. Oakville
had a vibrant community of intellectuals, a great arts community, a world-class medical facility, rivers and natural springs,
and so much to offer.

He’d long ago forgotten about Ron’s prediction that he would come to Oakville someday to live.

“I’ll tell you what, Wanda. Henry will be disappointed, but I’m going to forego fishing today and take a drive up to Oakville
to see Julian.”

“Oh, thank you, Jack. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll talk to Julian but I won’t help him if I don’t think he’s innocent.”

“That’s fine. That’s fine. He’s innocent. You’ll see it right away, Jack. You’ll look into his eyes and you’ll know.”

“Henry is going to be awful disappointed he won’t get to spend the rest of the day with me.” Jack turned and looked at Henry,
who was walking out of the kitchen toward the dining room table with his coffee and a bagel in hand.

“Oh, don’t you worry about Henry,” Wanda said. “I’ll take him over to my house and feed him a good meal.” She looked over
at Henry and smiled. Henry smiled back.

Maybe the universe is working for both of us
, Jack thought.

W
hat was all that between you and Wanda?” Jack asked Henry after Wanda left.

“Well, back when you were her lawyer and I was your investigator we became kinda friendly toward each other.”

“And?”

“And nothing. All those kids scared me away.”

“What’s changed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve changed. It’s not like I’ve decided to marry the woman. She walked in the door and she smiled at
me and I smiled back and I’m probably going to stop over for some dinner.”

“Yeah, right, Henry—some dinner. That’s what I got out of it.”

Henry smiled. “I know you just as well, Jack. Like I know exactly what you were thinking when Wanda mentioned her son up in
Oakville.”

“And what’s that?”

“You were thinking Wanda was the universe talking to you and you’re supposed to go to Oakville.” Jack tried to hide his smile,
but Henry caught it. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know. The thought did cross my mind. You still think I’m crazy?”

“Hell, Jack, you’re one of the sanest men I’ve ever known. If you believe in the universe, I believe in it too. Let’s see
if it’ll work for both of us.”

“Amen, brother. So I’m probably going to stay in Oakville for a little while even after I get Julian’s case disposed of.”

“Are you going to take the case?”

“Don’t know. Julian is a good kid but things can happen when you’re away from home. I’ll know once I talk to him.”

“Think you’re going to need me?”

“Probably. For now, why don’t you stay here and keep Wanda happy and look after the house.”

“And the boat,” Henry replied.

“Especially the boat.”

Henry lived in Miami, but he didn’t have an everyday job. Jack had convinced the Florida legislature to award him three million
dollars for wrongfully imprisoning him for seventeen years, so he basically lived off his investment income. Like Jack, he
worked for Exoneration, the nonprofit foundation that investigated cases of individuals who had been wrongfully convicted,
especially those like Henry who were on death row.

“Consider it done,” Henry said. “Go to Oakville and stay as long as you like.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“Trust me, Jack. I’ll be just fine.”

 

Jack met Julian Reardon at his apartment on Arthur Road in Oakville. Julian was expecting him as Wanda had called to tell
him Jack was coming. Julian was a remarkable physical specimen. Six feet tall, he was all muscle, athleticism, and speed.
Jack remembered watching a couple of his games last year when Julian was a sophomore running back, and from what Jack had
observed, he was eventually going to be playing professionally. The University of North Central Florida was an elite football
school and played in the Southcentral Conference, arguably the toughest football conference in the country, but at times it
appeared that Julian was playing at a different level than the other kids on the field. Every major college had recruited
him back in high school: Alabama, Ohio State, Virginia Tech, and Oklahoma, to name a few. Julian had chosen the Fighting Ospreys
of North Central Florida because his mom loved the Ospreys, and Oakville was close enough that he could sneak home for a weekend
now and then in the off-season.

“Hi, Julian,” Jack said when Julian answered the door.

“Hi, Mr. Tobin. Come on in.”

Jack walked in and sat at the kitchen table. The apartment was cleaner than any apartment Jack had lived in during his college
days. While the two knew each other, it was only because of Wanda. The first few minutes were awkward.

“Do you live here by yourself?” Jack asked.

“No, I’ve got a roommate. He’ll be gone for a couple of hours.”

“So we can talk. Tell me what happened, Julian.”

“It happened last Saturday. We’d just won a big game against South Carolina and we were out celebrating. I know I had too
much to drink but not too much that I didn’t know what I was doing. I met this girl, Sandra was her name, and we started talking
and stuff and she was kinda hugging on me and we went outside into the parking lot in the back where it was dark.

“I want you to know something, Mr. Tobin. I’ve got a girlfriend, Robin. I know we’re young and everything but we love each
other. We talk all the time about getting married when I get drafted into the pros. Anyway, this Sandra was getting very hot
with me when we were in the parking lot, you know what I mean?”

Jack just nodded.

“Then all of a sudden I didn’t want to be there no more. I stopped her and told her I couldn’t do this. I apologized and everything.
While I was walking inside, she yelled at me ‘You’re gonna pay for this.’ That was it. I left the bar. I never saw her again
until I was called in the other day by my coach who told me this girl claimed I tried to rape her. I never did.”

Julian was looking at Jack the whole time he was talking. Jack could tell he was ashamed of his actions. He also could tell
that Julian was being truthful. It was the little things. He didn’t look away. He didn’t rub his hands or blink. He just told
it like it was.

Jack had him call his coach, Clint Maddox, and arrange a meeting. Maddox must have been anxious to see him because Jack was
in the coach’s office within an hour.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tobin,” Coach Maddox said after Jack introduced himself. He had the handshake thing down. Looking directly
at Jack, a perfect smile pasted on his face, he gave Jack’s hand just the right squeeze.
Probably part of the training
, Jack thought.
This guy has shaken more hands than a career politician.

“I know who you are,” Coach Maddox said to him. “I’ve read about you here and there. I’m surprised you’re representing Julian.”

“I know the family. His mother is a friend of mine.”

“She’s a very nice woman. How can I help you?”

“I’m not the one who needs help, Julian is.”

“I know but I can’t help him. This case has already been reported to the NCAA, and there is an active criminal investigation.
My hands are tied. All I could do was suspend Julian from the team. He’s on his own.”

Jack smiled at the coach’s words as he sat down in a chair the coach offered him. Maddox didn’t seem to like the expression
on Jack’s face. Jack had read somewhere that the coach had a short fuse. He was a big man, tall and thick, with arms like
tree trunks.
Probably somewhere in his fifties
, Jack surmised.
From his size I’d say he must have been a lineman in his playing days.

“Something funny?” Maddox asked.

“Not at all.”

“Then why the smirk?”

“It was more of an ironic smile.”

“I’m not sure I understand the irony.”

“Well, I was thinking about how you promise these boys everything to get them to come here and all your alumni go crazy giving
the school money so these kids will go out there and win one for the Old Ospreys, then one of them gets in trouble and you
drop him like a hot potato.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Isn’t there some sort of obligation to this kid, at least morally, to help him through this until somebody determines he’s
actually done something wrong?”

“The school gives him the opportunity to get a free college education if he plays football and keeps his nose clean. If he
doesn’t keep his nose clean, I can’t help him. You go to bars, you’re gonna get in trouble. I’m no different than Julian.
I have the opportunity to stay employed if I coach football, keep my nose clean, and win. If I don’t, I’m out. People get
fired from jobs every day for a good reason, a bad reason, or no reason at all. That’s life.

“I’d like to help Julian. The school would like to help him, too. But we can’t. The NCAA is all over this and so is the press.
Our hands are tied. I think Julian is a good kid and I’m glad he’s got you.”

That was a sobering assessment
, Jack thought as he left Coach Maddox’s office and headed for The Swamp.

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