Roger’s snoring woke me up a little before six the next morning. I tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but his snoring was still so loud it almost shook the bed. I tried putting a pillow over my ears next, but that didn’t work, either. I thought about waking him up and kicking him out of the house, but he looked so content I didn’t have the heart.
I grabbed a thick bathrobe from my laundry hamper and crept out of the room, being careful to avoid kicking the wooden stairs Roger used to climb to the bed. My vet had told me that dogs at his age declined quickly and that I needed to prepare myself, but I couldn’t think about life without him. He was a dog, but he was my buddy. I loved him.
It was too early for such maudlin thoughts, though, so I changed into some yoga pants and a sweatshirt and ran on the trails in the woods behind my house. Hard alcohol at night and hard exercise in the morning made my life manageable. The exercise woke me up, and the liquor put me down. Combined, the two kept me from dwelling on thoughts I had no reason to dwell upon.
After forty-five minutes on those wooded trails, my lungs loosened, my legs grew tired, and sweat dripped down my forehead and into my eyes. Dirt and bits of dried leaves covered my arms, neck, and legs, but I felt well. When I got home, Roger stretched on the back porch, having come out of the doggy door. Then he yawned and lay down again. It was a tough life he led.
I fed Roger, made a pot of coffee, and sat down on the back porch to watch the world wake up. It would have been a pleasant morning had my cell phone not rung at ten after seven. I sipped my coffee and let the call go to voicemail without looking at the screen. When it rang again two minutes later, I groaned to myself and looked at the screen.
Green, Julia.
“Hey, Julia,” I said, upon answering. “You rarely call this early. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “I needed to catch you before work. Are you alone?”
“Are you asking whether I picked up a man in the bar for a wild night of anonymous sex?”
Julia hesitated. “I didn’t think you did that kind of thing.”
“I don’t.”
Julia said nothing for a second. “Are you happy, sweetheart?”
“That’s why you’re calling? I like living alone. I’ve got friends, I’ve got Roger, I’ve got everything I need. That’s all I have time for.”
She sighed.
“I want you happy.”
“I like my life,” I said. “I’m not lonely if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That worries me, but it’s not why I called,” she said. “We need to talk about work.”
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw before speaking.
“Is this about Detective Ledgerman?”
“No,” she said. “Not directly, at least. Our coroner’s office has been working with Dr. Sheridan, your coroner. He sent over dental X-rays of the victim who died in St. Augustine. We compared those dental X-rays to ones of Megan Young and got a match.”
I blinked and drew in a breath. “The detective on the case here has been operating on the theory that a pizza delivery driver killed her in some kind of failed robbery. He won’t appreciate hearing that.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it. The story is already going national. We’ve got a truck from CNN parked on Forsyth Boulevard right now. Christopher Hughes’s attorney filed a petition of habeas corpus last night on Christopher’s behalf. Christopher’s confession complicates things, but he didn’t kill Megan Young.”
“He may not have killed her, but he hurt people.”
“I know,” she said. She paused. “He’s getting out. A rep from the governor’s office called last night, and somebody from the DOJ called this morning. If we don’t move to vacate the charges against him, there’ll be riots.”
I blinked and drew in a deep breath. “He’s in prison for a crime he didn’t do. I get it. When are you going to charge him with rape?”
“We’re not,” she said. “The prosecutor thinks he’s spent enough time in prison. The county is going into damage-control mode. Hughes’s current lawyer claims we coerced his client into signing a confession he didn’t understand. He’s already filed a civil lawsuit against the county and state. The world’s watching us. We don’t want a riot on live TV. The county is already in negotiations to settle.”
“I see,” I said, nodding as a cold chill passed through me. “So they’ll throw the police under the bus and pay Hughes millions. That sounds about right.”
“It sucks,” said Julia. “Everything about this is wrong. I want to kill the guy as much as you do, but we can’t. He’s been in jail twelve years, but he’s getting out today. It’s already on the docket. Andy—the prosecutor—will drop all the charges against Christopher at nine this morning. He’ll be a free man by noon. With luck, he’ll take his money and move to Hawaii or Florida. He’ll be someone else’s problem.”
“I don’t want to kill him. I want to see him in prison.”
She paused. “I’m sorry, but it won’t happen.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said, clearing my throat. “Thanks for calling. I need to get ready for work.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “Take the day off and come home, sweetheart. Your father and I love you, and we’re here to support you.”
She meant it, too. I could hear it in her voice. My eyes grew moist, so I blinked until a tear fell.
“I appreciate that, and I love you guys, too,” I said. I coughed so she wouldn’t hear the catch in my throat. “But it’s fair week. If I stay home, someone else has to work a double shift. That wouldn’t be fair for anybody.”
She sighed. “Okay. If you need me, call me anytime. I’ll have my cell phone with me all day.”
“I know. I’ll call you later.”
Before she hung up, she told me she loved me again. For a moment, I sat there, watching the trees sway in the breeze and listening as the birds sang. Then I drank the final sip of my coffee and petted Roger’s head. My throat felt tight, but I couldn’t let this bother me. I coughed and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.
I’d go to work, and then I’d come home and get drunk. People might frown at that, but I didn’t care. Life was about survival. You either made it through the day, or you didn’t. I’d make it to tomorrow, and then I’d make it through the next day and then the next day. Because that was who I was. I was a survivor, and I wouldn’t let that son of a bitch bring me down.