Free The Closing: A Whippoorwill Hollow novel (The Whippoorwill Hollow novels) by Ken Oder Page A

County?”
    “There are no rich clients in Buck County to pay the big fees that attract the cream of the crop. There are only a few lawyers in Bloxton, and none of them would give F. Lee Bailey a run for his money. I’ll grant you, it’s curious that Randy was appointed to all the capital cases in the county, but the judge didn’t have much to choose from.”
    Nate could see that George was growing more uncomfortable with each question he asked. He worried that George might shut down if he didn’t shift to a less contentious subject. “What’s Judge Herring like?” he asked.
    “He’s like every judge. He puts the black robe on in the morning and he thinks he’s God until he takes it off at supper time.”
    “Is he as smart as I’ve heard?”
    “He finished law school at the top of his class. He practiced law in Richmond and made a fortune speculating in real estate. He got elected as a judge in this circuit twenty years ago, and he became the circuit’s chief judge in 1960. He owns half of Buck County. He’s nobody’s fool.”
    “People wonder why Judge Herring came here to take the bench,” Nate said. “They say he could have been elected to a circuit judgeship in Henrico County. I don’t mean to be rude, George, but we both know the Henrico County judgeship is a lot more influential than the Buck County seat.”
    “Eddy grew up in Bloxton, like I did. People here respect a local boy who makes good. Respect means a lot to Eddy. He’s the biggest fish in this small pond. He’s decided every significant criminal and civil matter here for twenty years, and he’s touched the lives of everybody in the county. Nobody makes a move without his say-so. Eddy calls the shots in this county, and he likes it that way.”
    “Does he call the shots for you?”
    “I’m the commonwealth’s attorney. I’ve got some clout, but Eddy’s the only circuit court judge in the county. He could make my life miserable if he wanted to.”
    “I understand.”
    “I hope you do, Nate. It would be a mistake to accuse Judge Herring of wrongdoing unless you have solid proof, and you don’t. Even if Eddy convinced Judge Gwathmey to appoint Swiller to represent all the murdering bastards in the county in an effort to grease the skids on their pathway to hell, that’s not illegal. It’s not even grounds for appeal. There are no bullets in your gun, Nate, so don’t point it at Eddy. He’s the king of Buck County, and you know what they say. Don’t take aim at the king unless you’re certain you’ll kill him.”
    Nate considered this. He had watched George confront and defeat every economic hardship in his difficult life. Until that moment Nate had considered George to be fearless, but it was clear he was afraid of Judge Herring.
    “Thanks for the advice,” Nate said. “I’ll be careful.”
    George’s bloodshot eyes looked bone-tired. “How about a drink?”
    Nate struggled with the question. “No thanks. I’m on the wagon.”
    “Well, I need one.” George lumbered across the room to the cabinet. “The sight of a good man like you defending a son of a bitch like Deatherage jangles my nerves.” George carried a bottle of bourbon and two glasses back to the table and sat down. He poured himself a drink and held the bottle out to Nate. “Sure you don’t want a taste?”
    Nate looked away from the bottle. “No thanks.”
    George took a sip of whiskey and blew out a long breath. “I never got the straight scoop, Nate. Why did you resign?”
    Nate didn’t answer.
    “Come on, Nate. You spent your whole career putting bad people where they belong. You never hinted to me you might hang up your spurs. I had to read about your resignation in the newspaper. I haven’t heard a word from you in more than a year. Now you waltz in here and grill me about the Deatherage case. You owe an old friend an explanation. Why did you resign?”
    “I set up an innocent man.”
    “The gossips told me that much, but nobody seems to