Unformatted text preview: ie and I said she was safe. I did not tell him Sam was home. He closed the door to his office and said he had a favor to ask. "Tomorrow, can you go talk to Lucien Wilbanks?" "Why me?" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Well, I could, but, personally, I can't stand the bastard, and he feels the same way about me." "Everybody hates Lucien," I said. "Except. . ." "Except. . . Harry Rex?" "Harry Rex. What if you and Harry Rex go talk to Lucien? See if he will act as go-between to the Padgitts. I mean, at some point I gotta talk to Danny, right?" "I guess. You're the Sheriff." 'Just have a chat with Lucien Wilbanks, that's all. Feel him out. If it goes well, then maybe I'll talk to him. It's different if the Sheriff goes bargin' in at first." "I'd rather be lashed with a bullwhip," I said, and I wasn't joking. "But you'll do it?" "I'll sleep on it." - --- Harry Rex wasn't too thrilled with the idea either. Why should both of us get involved? We kicked it around over an early breakfast at the coffee shop, an unusual meal for us but then we didn't want to miss the first tidal wave of downtown gossip. Not surprisingly, the place was packed with anxious experts who were repeating all sorts of details and theories about the Fargarson murder. We listened more than we talked, and left around eight-thirty. Two doors down from the coffee shop was the Wilbanks Building. As we walked by, I said, "Let's do it." Pre-Lucien, the Wilbanks family had been a cornerstone of Clan-ton society, commerce, and law. In the golden years of the last century, they owned land and banks, and all of the men in the family had studied law, some at real Ivy League schools. But they had been in decline for many years. Lucien was the last male Wilbanks of any consequence, and there was an excellent chance he was about to be disbarred. Ethel Twitty, the longtime secretary, greeted us rudely, almost sneering at Harry Rex, who mumbled to me under his breath, "Mea...
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- Spring '10
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