Page 55 of Camino Ghosts

“Then recuse yourself.”

“Let me think about this. It’s all rather sudden.”

“I’ll wait twenty-four hours, Your Honor, then file a recusal motion.”

“You’re being quite heavy-handed, Steven.”

“I learned in the trenches.”

“I won’t forget this.”

“Neither will I.”

13.

At noon the following day, Judge Salazar filed a notice with the clerk and sent copies to all of the attorneys. Without stating a reason, she was recusing herself from the case and asking the Supreme Court to appoint a special master to hear it. Since the filing was a public record, she did not bother to notify the press. By the time Sid Larramore at The Register got wind of it two days later, Judge Salazar was out of town on a short vacation.

CHAPTER NINE

THE DIG

1.

To get away from the voters who’d turned him out of office, Clifton Burch and his wife moved away from the sprawl of Orlando and retired to the much quieter town of St. Augustine, on the Atlantic. He’d had the honor of serving as a circuit court judge for fourteen years and was highly regarded by his peers and the lawyers who appeared before him. In his final campaign, he’d been blindsided by an unknown right-winger who flooded the internet and television with attack ads claiming Judge Burch was “soft on crime.” He was not, and his record spoke for itself. But attack ads work brilliantly when they are dumbed down and frighten voters. His sudden and unplanned retirement was at first traumatic, but he soon realized he could stay just as busy pinch-hitting in cases all over the state. The Supreme Court was constantly searching for retired judges to referee hot cases where the locals were running for cover. Judge Burch, at seventy-six and fit as a fiddle, quickly became known in legal circles as the go-to guy who was organized, efficient, unbiased, and eager to resolve even the thorniest of disputes. He knew nothing about the case and had never heard of Dark Isle, Panther Cay, Tidal Breeze, or the Barrier Island Legal Defense Fund. He took a call from the clerk of the Florida Supreme Court at 9:30 a.m. on a Tuesday, April 21, and by noon had spoken to all of the lawyers and was plowing through the pleadings. He promised to read the depositions, review all discovery, and be up to speed by the weekend. In the past three years, he had handled two title disputes and knew the law well. It wasn’t that complicated. The trial was set for May 18 and there would be no delays.

Steven was delighted with the appointment of Judge Burch. He liked Lydia Salazar but she had been compromised, and he had no regrets in scheming to remove her. He called Gifford Knox in Charleston and thanked him again for getting injured. Gifford howled with laughter and vowed to sail down immediately to celebrate.

They had another discussion about the money for the expedition. Gifford committed $5,000 more, bringing his total to $15,000. Steven had passed the hat among the “greenies” and their nonprofits, and he had collected $25,000. Bruce Cable pledged $10,000.

Mercer added another $5,000 and was brooding about the possibility that her little “Lovely Project” might be turning into a money pit.

2.

The idea had been Diane’s. Initially, the goal was to visit Dark Isle with a group of experts, find the cemetery that Lovely described, find the graves, dig up some bones, and test for DNA.

Tidal Breeze had chosen the scorched-earth defense that Lovely’s story was fiction, that she had never lived on the island. And, so far, the good guys had produced no hard evidence to the contrary. A DNA link to the Jackson ancestors would destroy the corporation’s claims and severely damage its credibility.

Diane had convinced Steven before Christmas, and, though he was concerned about the costs, he gave her the green light to proceed with caution. Being cautious was not in her DNA, but she gamely tried to show restraint. She found the African Burial Project in Baltimore and paid $100 for a membership. Its mission, as stated on its website, was to locate and preserve the burial grounds of enslaved Africans, and to memorialize their lives, struggles, and contributions. Most of its work was centered from the mid-Atlantic northward. In the former slave states, where, obviously, there were far more lost burial sites, there had so far been little interest in the work of the ABP. The nonprofit had no presence in the state of Florida.

That was about to change. Diane made three trips to Baltimore, a twelve-hour drive each way, and paid her own expenses. She charmed her way into a pleasant acquaintanceship with the executive director, a former law professor named Marlo Wagner. Marlo read Lovely’s book overnight and was immediately drawn to the story. ABP was on a tight budget, but it had contacts in the archaeological world. Marlo knew researchers who did nothing but look for old bones and burial grounds that were never supposed to be found.

At the same time, through the winter, Diane had made numerous trips to Florida State University in Tallahassee. Dr. Gilfoy, the chairman of its Department of Anthropology, explained, more than once, that there was no money in the budget for a “big dig” in a place like Dark Isle. He, his colleagues, and especially his students preferred digging in more exotic places like Egypt and China. However, Dr. Gilfoy and some retired archaeologists from around the state ran a small company on the side that might be interested. Diane gave him all the maps, photos, and history she had, and he eventually explained over lunch one day that such a project would require five to seven days on-site with a team of archaeologists and students. The cost would be in the neighborhood of $30,000. A nice contingency was needed because the team had no idea what it would face, especially in the aftermath of Hurricane Leo. There was a decent chance the cemetery, if it had ever existed, had been swept away by the storm.

While Steven worked his contacts in the conservation community, Diane pecked away with a dogged determination, trimming estimates and begging for discounts, and finally put together enough money and talent to make the project happen. One team of three archaeologists from an affiliate of the ABP, and another team of three from Dr. Gilfoy’s firm in Tallahassee, would spend several days on the island digging through the cemetery, if it could be found. Any skeletal remains would be DNA-tested at a genetic lab in Austin.

Steven contacted Judge Burch and laid out the plan. Since Dark Isle was not officially owned by anyone, court approval was not crucial. However, Steven felt it was in the best interests of their case to inform all the lawyers.

Tidal Breeze, of course, objected to the idea. In a teleconference, Judge Burch abruptly informed Mayes Barrow, Pete Riddle, and Monty Martin that he found their objections frivolous and time-consuming and he had no patience with such tactics. Sufficiently burned, they got off the phone as soon as possible and reported to Wilson Larney. Steven and Diane got off the phone and high-fived. They liked this judge. He gave the green light and wanted a report as soon as one was ready.

3.

The last obstacle was Lovely Jackson. Because she admired Bruce and felt comfortable in his store, Diane made the decision to arrange another meeting there. As always, Miss Naomi drove her. As always, she was adorned in a colorful robe and turban. Bruce served coffee and oatmeal cookies, her favorite. Bruce also stayed in the room, his office, because Diane and Steven thought they might need his help. They were proposing something that they had not yet discussed with their client.

Steven began with a summary of the lawsuit, or “court case” as he called it, for her benefit. The trial would begin in a few weeks, and after months of depositions and paperwork and such, it was now time for the big event. In his opinion, Tidal Breeze and the other “bad guys” had done a good job of casting doubt on Lovely’s claims of being the last rightful owner of the island. The best way to prove them wrong was to go to the island, find the cemetery, and hopefully find the remains of her ancestors. She had assured Diane many times that she knew exactly where they were buried.

To introduce Lovely to the miracle of DNA testing, Diane had, weeks earlier, told her the stories of two men who were wrongfully convicted and languished in prison for many years. They had little hope of being freed until their lawyers convinced a court to allow DNA testing of some hidden evidence. The tests proved the men were innocent, and the guilty man was identified. Lovely had been captivated by the story, so Diane told her another one. And another. Then she told her the story of Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings, one of his slaves, and the six children they produced—before, during, and after his presidency. For decades, white historians denied that President Jefferson had kept Ms. Hemings as his concubine, in spite of ample anecdotal evidence. DNA testing resolved the issue in 1998 when one of his descendants was genetically linked to one of hers.

Diane had explained that it might become necessary to use DNA testing in their effort to win the title dispute.

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