Finally, she said to Ledge, “All these years you’ve been back, you’ve stayed out of trouble. It would be such a shame if you picked up where you left off way back when. Don’t do that, Ledge.”
“I won’t.”
She looked at him with silent appeal, then looked over at Rusty, who had brought himself to his full height, normal breathing nearly restored. He readjusted his necktie and yanked on the hem of his suit coat. Tipping his head toward the anteroom, he ordered Ms. Raymond to leave. After giving Ledge a reluctant glance, she backed out of the office, pulling the door closed as she went.
As soon as Rusty was sure she was out of earshot, he hissed, “You son of a bitch. How dare you lay a hand on me. I ought to have you locked in a cage under the jail and leave you there to rot.”
“You do that. My one phone call will be to the attorney general.”
“Send him my regards. He and I played golf during my last trip to Austin.”
“He won’t be so chummy when I tell him about Welch’s and the unsolved murder of Brian Foster.”
Rusty rolled his eyes. “Give me a fucking break. You’re not about to do that. You can’t even drop a hint without implicating yourself.”
“I have a rock-solid alibi. I was in police custody, remember? Tactical error on your part, Rusty, to have me arrested with weed in my trunk. I couldn’t have killed Foster because I was in lockup. But where were you? Where did you get off to after the four of us split up? Who could vouch for your whereabouts later that night?”
Rusty gave a pugnacious roll of his shoulders. “Don’t rattle your saber at me, soldier boy.” He scoffed. “You’re not going to confess to that burglary. It would ruin your reputation as a war hero. It’d tarnish your chest full of medals.”
Because of the heartache it would have caused his uncle, Ledge hadn’t thought he would ever admit to committing the burglary, either. But after seeing Henry today, he had accepted the inevitability of his decline. He was never going to improve. He would never be cognizant again. Every trait that had made him Henry Burnet was irretrievably gone.
The one saving grace of the tragedy was that he would never know about Ledge’s crime. He was free now to own up to it.
He’d done some serious soul-searching about this decision, even before Arden’s return to Penton had put additional strain on his tenuous coexistence with Rusty. Ledge was sick of the dance they’d been dancing, where each was constantly waiting for the other to make a misstep and trip himself up. He was ready to face whatever consequences came of confessing his culpability, so long as Rusty was made to suffer them, too. He wanted to take this motherfucker down.
“You think I care about those medals?” he said. “The only thing they’re good for is to remind me of dead guys. Those I killed. Buddies I watched die bloody. My uncle no longer knows my name, or his. Don will take over the bar, no matter what.” He raised his shoulders. “So, if I were to have a heart-to-heart with the AG, I would catch some flack, but nothing major, because I don’t have anything to lose. While you…”
Ledge looked around at the framed photos of Rusty with politicians and C-list celebrities, the plaques and certificates and civic awards, the homages Rusty had paid to himself. He snorted with contempt as he came back around to his nemesis. “You’d be stripped of all this, of everything you hold near and dear.”
“Do you actually believe I would stand by and let that happen?” Rusty asked in a silky voice. Then he tsked. “Ledge, Ledge, in all this time, haven’t you learned anything?”
“I’ve learned that you’ll stoop to anything. Foster was a soft target. Easy to dupe, easy to bully. You told me so yourself that morning you corraled me in the diner. I know you killed him.”
“You’d have better luck trying to prove I shot Kennedy. Or Lincoln.”
“True. Mother Nature lent you a helping hand that night.”
Rusty flashed a smile as he raised his hands at his sides. “So where does that leave you? Exactly nowhere. You’re hamstrung. Admit it.”
Privately, Ledge did, although he didn’t concede it out loud. “A big hang-up I can’t figure out is how Joe Maxwell got that bag of money. When? Where?