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wouldn’t know the difference. We talked about the old days—you, Angie, Marshall, college, even his falling out with Sam.”
    â€œWoody bought nice wine?” I raised my eyebrows. That was hard to believe.
    â€œHe said he wanted to celebrate. I asked what the occasion was, and he said, ‘No occasion—just that I’ve been lost for a while, and now I’m back.’ He drank most of the one bottle by himself. The second bottle is still on the shelf in the kitchen.
    â€œThat whole evening was just … bizarre, Jack. Philip’s not a bigdrinker. He kept saying things like, ‘Remember when the guys and I went to Panama City? Remember when Marshall and Jack wore black armbands and Jack almost got kicked off the baseball team? Remember when Angie convinced all of us to go skinny-dipping in the city reservoir?’ Well, I did not remember! Those were most certainly not my memories—skinny-dipping? I’m his mother for heaven’s sake! He still wasn’t … right, but I was glad to see him happier.”
    Helen got up and walked over to the secretary desk by the window. She spoke to me over her shoulder.
    â€œThe next morning, I woke up when I heard his car pull out of the driveway. I went to his room, and when I saw that he hadn’t made up his bed, I hoped things were back to normal. When I got to the kitchen, there was an envelope on the table. It was addressed to you.”
    She turned to face me again, holding a white, legal-size envelope in her hand. “The state troopers came to the house after …” She bit her lip, but she held it together and went on: “… they came that Thursday afternoon and searched the whole house. They took Philip’s computer and file cabinet, but I didn’t see any reason to tell them about this.”
    With a hint of a smile, she sat down again and handed me the envelope. “I wanted to call him at work and check on him, but I got busy, and I knew there was supposed to be some kind of special announcement by Senator Robinson at noon. You know the rest. I saw it on TV like everyone else.”
    â€œDid the state troopers question you?” I asked.
    â€œNot for long. They asked if Philip had told me why he was angry with the senator, or if I knew why he shot him. When I said no, they asked if I knew what Philip had been working on, and again I said no. They asked me again, and when I assured them that Philip hadn’t told me a thing, they left.”
    I nodded. “I can’t imagine what a nightmare this must be for you. I’ll see Woody tomorrow and hopefully get some answers.”
    â€œShould we see what’s in the envelope?” she asked.
    I was afraid to open it, especially in front of Helen. What if it was a confession? What if he blamed Helen for some reason? I looked at the front of the envelope. It read, “For Jack Patterson, Attorney—Privileged Communication.”
    I tore it open. It contained a small key and a handwritten note.
    Forgive me Jack for butchering Goldsmith. Take care of Mom
.
    When a lone man stoops to folly,
    And finds too late that men betray,
    What charm can soothe his melancholy
    What art can wash his guilt away?
    NO MORE BETRAYALS!
    Woody

7

    M Y DISAPPOINTMENT WAS tangible. I sure didn’t see anything in the note that could explain this mess. I mean … poetry? I handed it to Helen.
    She read it and, with a confused look on her face, asked, “What on earth does that mean? And the key? What’s that for?”
    I was as confused as she was. “I have no idea. Wish I did.”
    Bewildered, we both just sat there, staring at the note and the key. Then Helen said, “I almost forgot to tell you. Sheriff Barnes told me you can come to the county jail tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock.”
    Good
.
One less thing to worry about
. I reminded myself that I needed to call Sam Pagano.
    â€œThanks. I’ll be there, but until