Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

was a Navy hero,” said Mike. “He told me one time that when trouble comes, you have to keep on flying. Something he learned when his buddies got killed during the War. He was like that. Nothing stopped him. He just kept on going with his life. He never talked about her again.”
    The road was narrow and, with several cars ahead of him and no way to pass, Jesse had to slow down. They drove in silence for a few minutes, gravel clattering against the metal fenders. Behind them a rooster tail of dust rose into the sky. Then Jesse slowed again as they approached a property sign. Mike read on the sign the words, “Lawson’s Post, 1690.”
     They turned into the lane and rode along a stretch of ancient gnarled trees.
     Jesse said, “The Lawsons started out growing tobacco. They had a store here to buy animal pelts from the Nanticoke natives who inhabited this area. That's how far back we go in this place.”
    Part way up the lane, they came to a closed white gate. Jesse pressed a button on his dashboard and the gate swung open. They drove ahead. Then, nestled among large boxwoods, Mike saw a great brick house with tall chimneys. They parked the car behind a large tired Jeep that had its canvas top removed.
    Mike followed Jesse around the side of the building. A quiet, beautiful woman, tall with dark hair and bright eyes, was working among a snug plot of bright flowers sheltered among the boxwoods. Two gardeners labored beside her. She looked up with a smile and Jesse introduced her as his wife.
    “I’m sorry you won’t be able to meet our children,” she said, in a quiet and welcoming voice. “They are off at camp.”
    As Jesse and Mike walked towards the river which was a quarter mile below the mansion, Jesse continued to talk. “I don’t keep the kids around here any more than I have to. I try to spare them the hatred. I just wanted you to see this so you would understand why this search is so important to me.”
    He stopped and sat on a fallen tree at the side of the path. Mike sat down beside him.
    “This is the road the Lawson tobacco went down when it was loaded on the English trading ships,” said Jesse.
    He went on, “Mike, my family is important to me. Lawson used to be a good name around here.”
    “The Navy put your grandmother through a hearing. Who was her lawyer?” Mike asked.
     “I only met him once,” Jesse said. “His name was Thomas Drexel. It was in 1972, at my grandmother’s funeral. Big man with a fat stomach that his suit wouldn’t hide. Sometimes you could see the skin between the buttons of his shirt. I went up to him, standing up straight, all ten years of me in my best church clothes and asked him why my grandmother was accused.
    “‘Sure, sonny,’ he answered me, ‘you want to read up on the case. I sure do understand how important that is to you, especially a youngster like you who's just lost his grandmother.”
    “The lawyer went on, ‘I really want to help you, young Lawson, same as I tried so hard to help your grandmother, and your mommy never understood that. I got your grandmother out of jail. I got her home. I got that much done.”
     “‘I have some files from the hearing,’ Drexel said, ‘that might inform you how tough it was. No, you just write me a letter or call me up when you get around to it and I’ll send them to you.”
    “Mike, I wrote letters to Drexel for years. I would change the words each time until the letters finally begged for attention, with no pride at all. I never got an answer from him. My mother didn’t like him, always badmouthed him, and I guess he was afraid she’d start up on him again, maybe try to get back some of the money we paid him. Anyway, finally, I swore I’d never beg him again. Maybe, if it comes from a different person, someone out of the family, he’ll tell you something.”
     Jesse looked over at Mike, shifting his body on the tree trunk. “Your father was a war hero. What do you think about working for the