Disclaimer: I still don't own "Logan Lucky", Universal Pictures does. Warning: If you're at all invested in this story, this chapter is going to sting a little (the chapter title says it all). Next chapter is the big finale, so don't give up on me yet…
VII
STEP NINE: REMEMBER, SHIT HAPPENS
"You pieced all this together from nail polish and cockroaches?"
Under normal circumstances, this would be the part of an investigation that gave Sarah the most satisfaction: The moment when the pieces began to fall into place, shedding light on the final solution to the puzzle presented to her, directing her with finality to the suspect she'd been charged to identify and apprehend.
Satisfaction, however, was not one of the myriad emotions churning within her now. Disappointment warred with anger, which her continuously analytical mind told her owed to feelings of betrayal…which was completely irrational, of course. Logan was a thief; she'd known that with certainty before she'd entangled herself in his world, let herself get too close to him. If she'd become blind to that fact, built him up to be something else in her mind, well, it wasn't fair to blame him for her own foolishness.
In clinical terms, she felt like a great big, swirling bag of crazy, barely hidden behind her well-practiced wall of calm, professional detachment. She didn't like the feeling, not one bit.
With that practiced, professional detachment, Sarah was now in her office walking Agent Noonan through the facts that she'd collected since her discovery of the nail polish in Mellie Logan's bathroom.
"I checked: Before the speedway robbery, Clyde Logan lived at his brother's house. I consider it highly unlikely that either of them use pink or white Dawn of Beauty nail polish. So, they borrowed the nail polish from Mellie, from her beauty salon, or by extreme coincidence went out and purchased the same exact brand and color that their sister prefers.
'Course, they sold one hundred twenty-three thousand bottles of Angel Fire Pink nail polish last year, so that's not enough to connect the Logans to the robbery. Purely circumstantial."
Sarah keyed up a video on her computer: It showed the community center where Sadie Logan had competed in a beauty pageant the day of the speedway robbery. "Let's assume for a minute that the cockroaches in the speedway vault were painted with Mellie's nail polish. There are two dozen witnesses who put Mellie at the Little Miss Pretty West Virginia beauty pageant with her niece and Jimmy's ex-wife the day of the robbery." The view of the lot had come from a traffic camera across the street from the community center, but from the angle a blue Dodge Charger could be seen pulling into the center's parking lot. A few seconds later, a red Mustang turned into the lot. Both vehicles disappeared behind rows of trees that prevented the camera from having a full view of the lot.
Sarah pointed out the car on the screen: "There's Bobby Jo Chapman arriving in a blue Dodge Charger registered to one Moody Chapman. And that red Mustang is registered to Mellie Logan." Sarah let the video play on. "Wait for it-there's the same blue Charger leaving the parking lot forty-five minutes later. Unfortunately, the windows are tinted, there's no way to see who's driving."
Noonan saved his questions, waiting to hear the rest of Sarah's evidence. She called up more traffic camera footage. "I used the traffic cameras to follow the Charger to the same Superamerica Express Mart that Clyde Logan crashed into one month before the robbery. Now, here's footage from the gas station's security camera. There's the car, parked on the street. You can just make out the license plate."
"Did the camera get a shot of the driver?" Noonan asked.
"No. It parked at the back of the station, probably hoping nobody would notice. The driver never gets out. But watch this." A few minutes later, a linen truck rolled into the gas station. When the driver went into the market, two men in prison jumpsuits climbed out from underneath the truck. One of them was tall, dark-haired, and was distinctly missing his left arm. The pair of prisoners ran to climb into the blue Dodge.
Noonan scratched his head. "I'll be damned. The files said he was in a prison lockdown."
Sarah nodded. "Exactly…in a lockdown in the prison's hospital ward, where he was assisting a sick prisoner named Joe Bang." Sarah pointed to the very blonde man accompanying Clyde in the security camera footage. "Joe Bang."
"They ain't in prison."
"No, they are not." Sarah grinned at her partner. "Want to make a wager that when we check that prison's hospital ward, we find a tunnel?"
Noonan waved off the wager. "I'll never bet against you, Grayson. What are you thinking?"
Sarah turned from the computer, picking at the top of her desk nervously with her thumbnail. "Clyde and Jimmy Logan visit Joe Bang in prison. A few days later, Clyde Logan—" She hid her cringe; it felt weird referring to Clyde in that impersonal manner, but she had to force herself back to professional detachment. "-drives his car through the wall of the Superamerica and ends up at the same prison. A few weeks later…" She points to the two escaped convicts on the computer screen. "…they escape, coincidentally on the same day as the robbery.
"I think Logan crashed into that particular because of his family's bad blood with the owner. He knew that any other store owner would have believed the crash was an accident, or they wouldn't want to press charges against a wounded veteran. The Logans needed someone who had just enough grudge against to be fine with pressing charges against Clyde for the crash. That's where they made their second mistake."
Noonan asked: "Second?"
Sarah clarified, "If you count using their sister's nail polish on the cockroaches they used to test out the speedway's vault as their first mistake, yes. By second mistake, I mean ending up at that same Superamerica after he broke out of prison."
"This is the same gas station? Why would he want to go back there?" Noonan gestured to the Dodge that had picked up the prisoners.
"The Logans also knew that this particular Superamerica store didn't have any exterior security cameras. Without camera footage, the owner couldn't prove that Clyde Logan had deliberately aimed his car before he drove into the store, or else Clyde Logan would have received a harsher sentence. Two days after the crash, the owner had a new security system installed with four new exterior cameras. The Logans didn't know about the cameras; otherwise, I'm sure Logan and Bang would have met up with their accomplice someplace else."
Noonan pursed his lips as he silently processed all this. "It's definitely enough to charge Clyde Logan and Joe Bang with the prison escape, but what about the robbery?"
Sarah turned back to the computer, calling up footage from multiple cameras at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. She and Noonan had already spent days combing through the footage searching for any traces of Jimmy Logan, Clyde Logan, and Joe Bang and come up empty. Once Sarah had known to look for Moody Chapman's blue Charger, she'd been able to find what she wanted in the footage.
"There's the Charger pulling into the employee parking lot. They did their homework; they parked behind a generator building, which means we have no shot of the driver or who else gets out of the car. All we have is Max Chilblain's testimony that he saw Logan and Bang in the tunnels at the speedway. It still might be enough to bring Logan in for questioning."
Now, her partner chuckled, impressed. "Nail polish. You are one scary smart lady, Grayson. I'll call Director Booth, see if this is enough to get a warrant. I reckon you get to keep your perfect record."
"I reckon." Sarah couldn't quite force a smile. That was that. Process the new evidence and re-open the case. She'd got her man. Simple. Her record of solving cases was intact.
Sarah's cell phone rang. Still smiling, Noonan went to speak to the Director, leaving his partner to answer her call. She checked the caller i.d.
It was the burner phone she'd been using while undercover. The display showed Clyde's number. Sarah froze, her finger poised above the 'answer' icon. Her heart pounded so loudly that the sound drowned out whatever Noonan had said in parting.
She thumbed the 'answer' icon before the call could go to voicemail. Answering around a lump in her throat, she squeaked out: "Clyde?"
"It's Mellie. I borrowed Clyde's phone."
Sarah was stunned. She checked her watch. It was just after noon; Clyde was probably still asleep. Mellie explained: "I didn't think you'd answer if you knew it was me."
She wasn't wrong about that. Sarah drew a deep breath. "What makes you think that?"
At the other end of the line, Mellie was chewing on her carefully manicured thumbnail. She paced on the house's tiny porch, talking quietly, trying not to wake Clyde. She was already on his shit list for Sarah's abrupt departure the day before. "Let's cut the bullshit, okay? I'm calling 'cause I figure I owe you an apology."
Sarah said nothing. Mellie pressed on with the speech she'd been rehearsing: "So…here it is: I'm sorry. Just to be clear, I'm never going to apologize for looking out for my brother. If that makes me a bitch, that's the way it is. I'm pretty sure you get where I'm coming from on that. But…I don't want you disappointing Clyde and Sadie staying away because of what I said. Please come to Sadie's dinner tonight."
Sarah could respect that. "Hey, I get it. You were being protective. With everything you all have been through, I'd probably be the same way."
There was a long pause on Mellie's end of the line. Sarah wondered if she said something she shouldn't have again. Talking with the Logan sister was a verbal sparring match every time.
Then, she heard the younger woman sniff…nearly the last reaction that Sarah expected.
"You know, we were planning a welcome home party that day. Then we got that phone call..." Every detail of that horrible day was burned into Mellie's memory, as if it had only been yesterday. Mellie had been tearing her hair out trying to get Maw-Maw to take her medications and shower, much less to get the woman dressed. Maw-maw had ended up flushing her loofa sponge and flooded the bathroom. Jimmy and Bobbie Jo were staying with her at Maw-Maw's house to help care for their grandmother for her last few months. Mellie was yelling at them to be more helpful. Jimmy was preoccupied with cleaning out Kroger's for every balloon and streamer they had in stock and reserving the Palomino for Clyde's welcome home party. Bobbie Jo had criticized their every idea for the party, and the Logan siblings had ignored her.
In the middle of the chaos came the phone call from some Marine officer whose name Mellie couldn't remember. She only remembered the look on Jimmy's face when he'd answered the call. The only reason Mellie hadn't lost it there in the kitchen was that it was a phone call instead of two Marines standing on their porch (which had been her fear every time she'd heard tires on the driveway for the past three years).
Mellie pulled herself out of that reverie. "It just about killed me and Jimmy being on the other side of the world when our brother needed us."
Sarah was getting tears in her eyes, pushing the pictures from the files out of her memory.
"Anyway, you don't need me dumping on you. You sure you can't come to dinner tonight?" Mellie asked again.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mellie…did Clyde put you up to this?"
"No. He'd be pretty pissed off at me if he knew I was sticking my nose in his private business. I don't want Clyde to be unhappy because of me, and for whatever reason you seem to make him happy."
Sarah could tell it had galled Mellie to admit that. "Business, huh?" she teased.
"That's your takeaway from what I said? I didn't mean it like that this time!" Mellie snapped. "Please come. I promise I'll try to show you I'm not a full-on bitch. And, you're welcome to stay here instead of the Bedbugs and Backaches Motel."
"Thanks. I'd like to, but I really can't. I'm still stuck up in Charleston, doesn't look like I'm going to get out of here until tomorrow. I'll call Clyde, make sure he understands that it's not because of you. But I'm glad we got to have this talk. I appreciate it."
It pained Sarah how much she wanted to accept. She couldn't sit at that table, listening to Jimmy's good-natured teasing, watching Sadie joyfully going about her cooking, and swapping glares with Mellie. She didn't want to sit at that table beside Clyde, close enough to inhale his scent and feel the warmth of his body…she was already past the point of no return to the life that could have been.
She also doesn't want to ruin Sadie's big dinner by hauling her uncle off to jail in front of the family. She would until morning before going to do the worst thing she'd ever had to do.
LLLLLLL
Sarah was wrong: Arresting Clyde was not the worst thing she'd ever experienced, though it came close to it. She and Noonan had made the trip to the house in silence, Sarah driving hoping that it would distract her. She was wrong about that as well. Her thoughts drifted to all the times she'd driven that same highway in the past two weeks, about driving to Pittsburgh in the middle of the night exchanging life stories that were closer to accurate than anything about herself that she'd shared with other sus-while she was undercover, about stealing sidelong glances at Clyde when he'd drifted to sleep on the drive home.
Sarah slammed a mental door on those memories. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd been undercover dozens of times and met people who'd become something near to friends. It had sometimes made her sad when the time came to arrest them, but always there was that distance in her heart that protected her (fostered by her greater devotion to justice). This time, there was no satisfaction in finding her evidence and finally closing in on the guilty party, only a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach which grew in intensity as they pulled up to the curb of the Logan house.
Noonan did the honors of knocking on the door when his partner faltered. Sarah knew Clyde would answer the door. It was nine o'clock on a Tuesday morning, so he'd be the only one at home. Sarah tuned out the words as Noonan informed Clyde that he was under arrest, instructed him to accompany himself and "Agent Grayson", and handcuffed him.
Instead she watched Clyde's face. She wasn't expecting an outburst; that wasn't in Clyde's reserved nature. Noonan might have missed it, but Sarah saw the gamut of emotions in his eyes as he mentally connected the dots: First, comprehension and shock, then anger, then disappointment…and then nothing but the cold, impassive expression of a stranger staring back at Sarah.
That was the worse thing by far. She tried not to look in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive.
LLLLLLL
"You know the ironic part of this, Mr. Logan? That Superamerica gas station didn't install security cameras until after you drove through their storefront. Tell me what was that? A way to get yourself thrown into prison to make contact with your co-conspirator?"
There were four of them crowded into the interrogation room that the Feds had borrowed from the local police department. On one side of the table, Clyde sat beside a public defender named Riordan who had been appointed as attorney. Agent Noonan sat across from them. He had opened a laptop to display the traffic camera footage of Clyde and Joe Bang at the Superamerica gas station.
Sarah stood in the corner of the room. Clyde was making a point not to look at her, catching only sidelong glimpses when she paced. He saw only enough to know that she was also avoiding looking at him.
A Fed.
She was a damn Fed.
He owed Mellie a damned apology. He should have known to trust to her intuition. Clyde wondered if Mellie would finally start listening to his warnings about the Logan family curse now.
Agent Noonan was still babbling on; Clyde turned his attention back to the man. "Video doesn't lie. This is you and Mr. Percival Josiah Bang at that same gas station on a day when you were supposedly locked up in prison How is that possible?"
Noonan watched for any reaction from Logan. Whether it was the Marine Corps training to stay silent during interrogations or his penchant for stoicism that Sarah had mentioned, Logan didn't so much as twitch at anything Noonan said. He merely stared blankly at the agent.
Noonan looked at Sarah. She was staring at the floor.
"Joe Bang slipped out of town before our agents could arrest him. We missed him by about ten minutes as I understand it," Noonan continued. "Interesting that his brothers, Misters Fish Bang and Sam Bang, went with him. Were they driving the car that day, by any chance? Maybe involved in the speedway robbery?"
Clyde blinked in answer.
Noonan folded his hands on the tabletop. "Mr. Logan, the District Attorney will go easier on you if we can tell her that you were cooperative."
"Maybe it's one of those fancy new robot cars that drives itself," Riordan cracked.
Neither of the Federal agents were amused.
Sarah spoke from her corner. "This car is registered to one Mr. Moody Chapman. On the day of the Charlotte Motor Speedway robbery, his wife, Bobbie Jo Chapman, drove the herself and her daughter, Sadie Logan, to the Miss Pretty West Virginia pageant at the Oaks Community Center. Twenty witnesses confirmed that Bobby Jo stayed at the pageant all day. Bobby Jo is your brother's ex-wife and Sadie is their daughter, is that correct?"
With no choice but to face her, Clyde fixed her with a stare that would have frozen lava. Sarah plunged ahead with practiced professionalism. "As I understand it, your sister, Mellie, was doing your niece's hair and make-up for that pageant. Are you saying that's a coincidence?" She turned to address Clyde's lawyer. "Your contention is that the car then drove itself to the Superamerica gas station to pick up Mr. Logan and Joe Bang after they broke out of prison?"
The public defender and his client both declined to comment.
Sarah leafed through the paper file, mainly to avoid Clyde's eyes and whatever accusations she would see there. "We asked Bobby Jo why she didn't file a police report about her car being stolen during the pageant. She said that-if it had been stolen-since it was returned and that someone refilled the gas tank, so she figured why bother. So, I asked her if Mellie was with her and Sadie the entire time that they were at the pageant…"
Clyde's jaw twitched, the most minute betrayal of his worry.
"…she told me they were, and furthermore that I should kiss her ass. I reminded her that obstruction of justice is a felony. She reminded me to be sure I kissed both cheeks."
Clyde disguised his shock and relief. Bobbie Jo might have remained closer to Mellie than to the rest of the Logan family, but she was the last person he would have believed would lie to protect the family.
Noonan took another tack: "We found cockroaches in the vault of the Charlotte Motor Speedway. They were painted with nail polish. Specifically, with nail polish manufactured by the Dawn of Beauty corporation. Angel Fire Pink. We have invoices showing that Dawn of Beauty is the preferred cosmetic line for Mellie Logan's beauty salon."
Riordan interjected: "I'm sure it's the preferred cosmetic line for hundreds of women who attend the races at the Charlotte Motor Speedway and probably several thousand women in West Virginia and North Carolina. What you have is yet another coincidence."
Noonan countered with: "There are an awful lot of coincidences in all this, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Logan?"
Clyde was flatly not agreeing to anything. His lawyer threatened: "If you don't have anything other than circumstantial evidence, we're done here."
Noonan spelled it out. "Warden Burns may not care to admit that anyone can escape from his prison, but the video evidence doesn't lie. Max Chilblain can place you and Joe Bang in the employee access tunnels at the speedway during the race. We have you for the prison break. I don't believe it's a coincidence that the Mr. Logan and Mr. Bang broke out of jail and went to the Charlotte Motor Speedway on the same day of the robbery? Let me guess: You didn't want to miss the race? Salute to veteran's and all that, Mr. Logan?"
Riordan shot back: "My client is not saying anything at all."
"Fine, then. Let's give Mr. Logan twenty-four hours to consider this: Sign a confession to the prison break—and anything else that you'd like to get off your chest-and the DA will make sure you receive the minimum sentence. If you don't, once Mr. Bang is located, maybe he'll have some new insights to share with us about the speedway robbery and anyone involved in that crime. I'm sure he'll be quite happy to accept this deal if you don't."
Riordan looked at Clyde, who shook his head.
"All right," Noonan shrugged. "In that case, we'll be transferring Mr. Logan into Federal custody until the hearing. Agent Grayson-?"
Noonan filed out of the interrogation room, heading to the chief of police's office to discuss the transfer. He was followed closely by Attorney Riordan, leaving Sarah the uncomfortable task of escorting Clyde back down to the holding cell.
The silence hung oppressively over them as they stood, waiting for the elevator. He still did not so much as acknowledge her presence, and if he had spared her a glance, Sarah was sure she would have seen only the emotionless stare of a man whose walls were up. She should have seen the criminal in front of her, but all she saw was Sadie having one less family member encouraging her cooking talent. She saw Duane Dawson and the veterans in Clyde's support groups having one less friend to come rip the gun out of his hand. She sees the bar he worked so hard to purchase slipping away and Jimmy and Mellie trying to keep it going when they still had their own jobs and their own lives to lead. She saw them once again being powerless to help their brother.
She was trying not to see what had happened between her and Clyde a few nights ago, trying not to see herself back in the tiny house in West Virginia waking up to birds and babbling brooks and Clyde. She saw a life that could have been hers that can never be. She wasn't Sarah Butler. She was still a Federal agent, and, whether for family love or the insane inability to say no to a 'cauliflower' favor (Sarah was pretty sure someone had played that card to talk Clyde into the robbery), Clyde had still broken the law . Her sense of justice hadn't changed. It never would. How the hell was she supposed to reconcile that with the fact that she was in love with a damned criminal?
It wasn't until the elevator doors closed, granting them true privacy, that Sarah dared speak. "You have about ninety seconds to say whatever you want to say to me. I'm not making excuses, and God knows I probably have it coming."
He turned to face her at long last. Sarah waited, bracing herself for the pain of whatever harsh words or brutal accusations he might vent upon her.
All Clyde asked was: "How much was bullshit?"
Sarah thought back on everything she'd told him in their time together. It amazed her, in hindsight, how honest she'd been in his company…too honest for an officer of the law undercover with someone who was supposedly a dangerous criminal. "My name is Sarah Grayson, not Sarah Butler, and I don't sell pharmaceuticals," she said. "Everything else I told you about myself was true."
Clyde gave her a look of disbelief. "Tell me five things you said that were true."
"I'm really divorced. My favorite books are really To Kill a Mockingbird and Time Out of Mind. Blue Blazes is really my favorite place on earth. I'm really an expert marksman, and I really do love watching documentaries on alien sightings."
Sarah couldn't help adding: "Now here's truth number six: Keep your mouth shut and they won't be able to prove the robbery. The speedway dropped the robbery charges because they think they got all their money back. I could probably get arrested for telling you that. I definitely would lose my job. And since I know you think six is an unlucky number end on, here's truth number seven: I'll be here when you get out…if you want."
Did he? Was that truth or more bullshit? And did it matter? All Clyde saw was a woman whom he had trusted when he trusted few people outside of his family. He saw someone who had pretended to care about him to solve a case. To prove she was right. He could abide many things, but not liars.
He was the future he thought he might have with her evaporate. This was Agent Sarah Grayson, F.B.I.
He missed Sarah Butler.
The ping of the elevator broke the tension. When the elevator door slid open, two uniformed officers were waiting to take Clyde the rest of the way to a holding cell. Sarah was left alone in the hallway.
LLLLLLL
"Joe Bang got away before the Feds could pick him up. He said to tell you thanks for the head's up. Him and Sam and Fish all high-tailed it to Cabo San Lucas. He said he's not going to roll on us long as we don't rat out him and his brothers. How'd you get the word to him that fast? What'd you do, call him while those Feds were knocking on your door?"
At the behest of his lawyer, Clyde was sent to an out-of-state prison in Virginia. Warden Burns' seething (and humiliation) about the now-public escape of two of his convicts had been palpable in the courtroom. The judge had shared the attorney's opinion that Logan would not be safe returning to Burns' custody.
Jimmy had made the drive to upstate Virginia. It was his first chance to have a private conversation with his brother since the Feds had come knocking on the door and hauled Clyde back to jail. The visitors' area of this particular prison was nowhere near as nice as the room where the Logan brothers had first proposed the idea of a robbery to Joe Bang all those months ago. It was dark and dank and suited Jimmy's glum mood.
Jimmy was blaming himself, Clyde could tell. They both knew the speedway robbery had been nothing but payback on Jimmy's part, revenge on his employers for him being fired. They'd have to spend the rest of their lives pretending they didn't have the money, would never be able to make big purchases or otherwise enjoy the fruits of their larceny.
They'd have to live wondering if every newcomer in their lives was another Fed like Sarah Grayson, or, worse, someone who'd figured out there secret and wanted to get their hands on the money.
Clyde didn't want to think about Sarah.
"Mellie and I are looking after the bar until you get out," Jimmy told him.
"You should hire a manager." It was the first thing Clyde had said since he'd sat down at the table. Jimmy was relieved; sometimes it was hard to tell if Clyde's silences meant he was angry or that he was just deep in thought…not that Jimmy didn't deserve it if Clyde had been angry.
Jimmy shook his head. "No way." It was bad enough Clyde was going to be in jail for at least the next eighteen months because of him; Jimmy wasn't going to let Duck Tape go out of business after Clyde had worked so long to buy the place.
Clyde reasoned with him: "Jimmy, you took the job at the Home Depot so you could be close to Sadie. You move back to run the bar and you'll never get to see her. And Mellie's going to be running that salon of hers in another year. Hire a manager. I was going to do that anyway."
Jimmy had to concede that he was right. After the Feds had questioned Bobbie Jo about the prison break and the speedway robbery, she unleashed a whole new definition of crap on him about visiting Sadie. And that was another problem: Sadie had liked Sarah; hell Jimmy had liked the woman for that matter. The girl had been wildly excited at the idea of having another aunt. Sadie had already told her dad that she called dibs on being the flower girl at Clyde and Sarah's wedding. Jimmy didn't know what he was going to tell his daughter. "How'd that Fed lady figure it out?"
"She saw Mellie's nail polish," Clyde said.
Jimmy was stunned. The cockroaches? "I thought you cleared everything out of the house?"
Clyde's lashed back in irritation: "I didn't know about the nail polish, Jimmy! I was in jail for that part of your plan, remember?! And one other thing we messed up: Henry installed security cameras after I crashed into his store. We didn't figure on that. The Feds have me and Joe on camera getting into the car in our prison jumpsuits the day of the robbery. That Chilblain guy saw me and Joe at the speedway. We didn't figure on that, either."
Jimmy leaned back on the rickety chair, staring up at the holes in the ceiling tiles. "I never figured a girl like Sarah to do something so rotten. I thought-" Well, never mind what he thought. It didn't matter anymore. "-I guess she fooled all of us."
Clyde was silent. Too silent. Jimmy looked back at him to find his brother staring at him with an inscrutable expression that made the hair on Jimmy's arms stand up. "She did fool all of us? Right? Clyde-?"
Silence.
Jimmy leaned forward, anger bubbling into his voice. "Jesus, Clyde, tell me you didn't know she was a Fed!"
Clyde shrugged. "I didn't know for sure, but I didn't buy that she was a pill peddler. They don't generally run around with .38 caliber handguns in their gloveboxes or know how to use pressure points to disable people."
Jimmy leaned down and banged his head against the table, counting to ten. "And you didn't think you should say something?!"
Clyde hadn't planned on seeing Sarah again once he'd become suspicious of her. He'd wrestled with the decision because…well, because he simply didn't connect often with people the way he had with 'Sarah Butler'. After Victoria broke off their engagement and run off to Laughlin, Nevada, Clyde had been guarded with his heart. Sarah had a way of sneaking around his defenses. He loved that she could be trading book quotes one minute, laying out drunks with a 'Vulcan neck pinch' the next, secretly harbored an addiction to greasy spoon truck stop diners, and could go toe-to-toe with his family (verbally and otherwise). He loved that she could and would debate, at length, on any topic just for her own amusement.
She might have argued him out of joining in the robbery if Clyde had met her before then.
It was only the need to protect his family that had forced Clyde to decide to end things with Sarah.
So, when she'd made that two a.m. call to the bar asking to see him, it had been on Clyde's lips to refuse…if not for the tremble of Sarah's voice that had worried him. The vulnerability of her request was so unlike her that Clyde had feared something was wrong. He'd only wanted to see that she was all right, especially after he'd unintentionally swept her up into all that madness with Dawson. He'd met her on the porch to keep her out of Mellie's house, just in case she really was a police officer or a fed coming to snoop around. He'd never meant for things to go as far as they did but…
"I like her," was all he said.
Jimmy lifted his head, staring at him. From anyone else, it would have been a glib, superficial excuse. Clyde was a man of few words and each was carefully chosen, so, such a confession from him was not made lightly. 'Like', Jimmy noted as well, not 'liked'.
"You're not angry she lied to you?" he asked.
Was he? Clyde had wrestled with that question. Upon reflection, he supposed whatever anger he'd felt was not about the deception. It was Jimmy's scheme and his choice to go along with it that had brought the Feds to their door. Clyde could see himself as he supposed Sarah saw him: A thief. A bad guy. He supposed that he was the bad guy in this twisted tale. It wasn't Sarah's fault Clyde was in jail trying to keep his family from joining him. He should have stuck to his own rules and walked away from the woman the first night she had showed up at Duck Tape.
"I'm not angry. She was doing her job. Not like it was personal."
Jimmy wished he could be that understanding, but Sarah had deceived his brother, broken his heart (whether he wanted to discuss that or not), hell she'd sent him back to jail and very nearly taken Jimmy and Mellie down, too. She had nearly ruined all their lives. "Some job, sending good people to jail."
Clyde had been thinking about that as well. He did, after all, have plenty of time to think while he was languishing in a prison cell. He'd been thinking about it since he'd spoken to Sarah in that interrogation room…if he were honest, he'd been thinking about it since the first day that Jimmy had proposed robbing the Charlotte Motor Speedway. "Are we good people, Jimmy? I mean, that Chilblain guy and his pals were punks, but that didn't mean it was okay for us to beat them up and burn up his car. We wrecked Henry's gas station. And in case you forgot… we're guilty. We didn't have no moral reason for robbing the speedway. We stole the money, and she caught us. Doesn't exactly make us martyrs, you know."
Jimmy pushed his chair back from the table. "One thing I know: I'm going to confess."
"Hell no," Clyde snapped.
"Now, hear me out-"
Clyde's fist slamming on the table earned a sharp warning from a nearby guard. He waited a moment, until he could answer calmly (and more quietly). "No, you listen to me this time: I thought it all out before I ever confessed. I even made one of those 'pros and cons' lists that you like. I'm the only one of us that the Feds can prove was at the speedway that day. The speedway folks dropped the robbery charges since they think they got their money back. They can't convict me for the robbery based on nail polish and cockroaches. The only charge the Feds can make stick is the jailbreak…so long as you keep your mouth shut and don't do something stupid like confess."
Jimmy was listening. He wasn't happy about what Clyde was saying, but he was listening. Clyde continued: "Me confessing to the jailbreak charges was the only way to put an end to all this. It was that or let those Feds keep digging until they could connect you and Mellie to the robbery. I'm not letting my baby sister go to jail, and that chore of a woman you married won't let you near Sadie again if you end up doing time for robbery. She'll lawyer up and you won't see Sadie until she graduates college."
"You're my little brother. It's not right letting you take the fall for something that was my idea," Jimmy argued.
"I could've said no."
Jimmy reminded him: "I said 'cauliflower'. You can't say no when someone says 'cauliflower'. It wouldn't have been honorable."
Clyde rolled his eyes. Jimmy was so full of shit. "Robbing the speedway wasn't honorable either."
"We can bust you out of here and hide out down in Cabo, too." It was grasping at straws, and Jimmy knew it, but he wasn't ready to admit defeat.
"Jimmy, do you remember step number seven on that robbery plan of yours?"
Jimmy avoided his eyes. He could see where Clyde was going with this. "Shit happens."
"And step number nine?"
"Remember, shit happens."
Clyde was satisfied he'd made his point. "This is how it's got to be. Hear that?"
It was Jimmy's turn to stay silent. Clyde sighed. "Jimmy, you're going to leave me no choice…"
His brother's head snapped up. Clyde was about to play a trump card; Jimmy knew exactly was he was going to say and tried to stop it by pointing a warning finger at Clyde: "Don't do it."
"Jimmy…"
"Don't even think about it-"
"Cauliflower."
TBC…
