Southern Fried by Cathy Pickens Read Free Book Online

safety margin.
    “Near the courthouse?”
    “Yessir. In the next block, toward town.” I’d have to get there well ahead of him, to keep Lou Wray, the receptionist, from sharpening her claws on him.
    “Four o’clock, then. I look forward to it.”
    His deep voice flowed smoothly over the phone line. What had I thought a man suspected of killing his wife would sound like? Somehow not that intriguing. Or that courtly.
    The glance at my watch had startled me into action. I scurried around dressing for my return to Garnet Mills. I pictured an environmental inspector as punctilious, on time, in a rumpled but respectable suit, with graying hair and steely, suspicious eyes. So I dressed in a tailored suit and rushed to be on time.
    Both the inspector and Harrison Garnet kept me cooling my heels in Garnet’s dingy plastic outer office for twenty minutes. Finally, a kid hi an olive double-breasted Italian suit and slick hair announced himself to Rita Wilkes, the keeper of Harrison Garnet’s gate.
    “Jason Smith. I have an appointment with Mr.”—he peeked inside his uncreased, unstained leather folio—“Harrison Garnet.”
    Rita stood on the other side of the waist-highswinging gate that corralled me and Jason Smith outside the shabby domain over which she ruled. Her only reply came as an upraised eyebrow.
    “Jason Smith.” He repeated it carefully, as if everyone must have heard of the young hotshot sporting a suit that would be out of style before his misplaced self-confidence could be shattered on the rocks of reality.
    “From Environmental—”
    “Ah, yes,” Rita Wilkes interrupted. She’d wanted him to dangle an appropriate amount of time. Or maybe Jason Smith wasn’t what she’d expected in a government functionary. The way he clipped his words reminded me of some of the Cal-houn Firm’s Ivy League hires—the ones who never lasted.
    “Would you both step this way, please?” She held open the gate. Jason Smith went through first, and I followed. A glance over his shoulder indicated his slight surprise at my presence, but he didn’t say anything.
    We moved in a line through the office, with Rita leading. He swaggered in front of me, the draped fabric of his jacket and pants adding to the sashaying motion of his walk. He smoothed a hand over his mafioso hairstyle as Rita held open the door to Harrison Garnet’s office.
    Meeting with his lawyer for a few minutes before the government inspector showed up would’ve been wise, to my way of thinking. Showing us both into his office as he finished up a phone call left Jason Smith and me eyeing each other warily.
    “I’ll see you this evening,” Harrison said, then carefully replaced the receiver and smiled benignly up at both of us.
    “I’m Harrison Garnet” He offered his hand to Jason Smith. “Forgive me for not standing.”
    “Jason Smith.” Jason held his notebook carefully to keep his jacket from sweeping the desktop and leaned across to grip Garnet’s hand enthusiastically.
    “You’ve met Avery Andrews? Our counsel?”
    Jason turned, his eyebrows raised. “Avery.” He squeezed my hand with too much force, really seeing me for the first time.
    “Mr. Smith,” Garnet said, “we haven’t had an inspector from your agency visit us before. Your time is valuable and I don’t want to waste it, so you’ll have to let us know what you need.”
    “I’m just here to look around. Perhaps to take a few samples, a few pictures.” He stood, feet apart, notebook held with both hands against his thighs.
    “Fine. Where do you need to start?”
    A flicker across his face was hard to read. Surprised at Garnet’s openness? Or did he not know where he wanted to start?
    I took advantage of the lull. “Mr. Smith, may I first ask the purpose of your visit?”
    He cut his eyes from Harrison Garnet, seated behind his desk, to me.
    “To inspect the premises for compliance with the environmental protection regulations of the federal government and the state