Blood Money (Joe Dillard Series No. 6) Read Online Free PDF

didn’t bury his money in a barrel and evade paying taxes. You’re the one who did all of those things. I’ve read all the transcripts, daddy. He did the best he could; there just wasn’t much he could do for you. But he’s the best criminal defense lawyer around and everybody knows it. I can learn more from him than any other lawyer in the state. So I don’t want to hear another word out of you about Joe Dillard.”
    Luke scratched his head and contemplated his shoes for a minute. He reached over and punched his daughter lightly on the shoulder.
    “You’ve got a lot of your momma in you, girl,” he said.
    “I’ve got a lot more of my daddy in me, I’m proud to say. I can’t wait until you get out of this place. It’ll be so good to finally have you home.”
    Luke picked up Charlie’s hand and squeezed it.  
    “I know you don’t need it,” he said, “but I’m looking forward to finally taking care of my little girl.”

Chapter 5

    AT 7:30 a.m. on Monday, Jack and I watched through the front door as Charlie Story and our new client, Roscoe Barnes, walked through the parking lot toward the office beneath a threatening, slate-colored sky. Charlie was wearing jeans, an orange, University of Tennessee hoodie and a pair of old-school Converse high-top basketball sneakers. Roscoe was wearing blue denim overalls, a red flannel shirt, and work boots. I was wearing a suit and had insisted that Jack do the same since we were meeting a new client.  
    “We’re overdressed,” Jack said.
    I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a little professionalism,” I said as I reached out and pushed the door open.  
    Charlie introduced everyone and we walked back to my conference room. The table was big enough to accommodate six people. Jack and I sat on one side, Charlie and Roscoe on the other. After the introductions, I got down to business.
    “Charlie sent me a copy of the petition your son filed, Mr. Barnes,” I said. “It makes some pretty alarming allegations.”
    “Yeah,” Roscoe said. “It says I’m too crazy to be left alone.”
    “Are you?”
    Roscoe glanced at Charlie and then looked me straight in the eye.
    “I’m no crazier than you or anybody else,” he said. “I might be a little eccentric, but I’m old enough to have earned the right. I get out of bed every morning at the same time, go through pretty much the same routines every day. I feed myself and bathe myself and take care of my place as best I can. I take the medicine the doctors say I should take and I don’t run around naked and howl at the moon.”
    “There’s a sworn affidavit attached to the petition signed by a psychiatrist named Frederic Heinz,” I said. “I checked him out and he has impeccable credentials. He also specializes in treating elderly patients. Tell me about the examination he did.”
    “There wasn’t any examination,” Roscoe said. “Zane showed up unannounced about a month ago and had this man with him that he introduced as his buddy Fred. I didn’t think anything about it other than it was unusual for Zane to come around since I only see him a couple of times a year. I fixed supper for them and they stayed for an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half, and then they left. Couple of weeks later a sheriff’s deputy knocks on my door and handed me a copy of the petition. Made me mad enough to spit.”
    Roscoe was a retired English teacher. Charlie had been his student at Cloudland High School for two years. They also happened to be neighbors on Buck Mountain and had known each other for most of Charlie’s life. Roscoe was in his mid-seventies, a slight, stooped man with a sharp nose and, I soon found, a tongue to match. I’d done some research over the weekend and learned that the legal process of taking over an elderly person’s life wasn’t all that complicated, but the law made it difficult nonetheless. Tennessee law required that “credible” medical evidence be presented to the court in order to have a person