Текст книги "The Simple Truth"

Автор книги: David Baldacci

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chandler shrugged. I cant claim we have it all figured out, but that could be just another red herring.

McKenna said, I dont think, I know. If there was anything to it, they wouldve told somebody. Evans couldnt even tell us what was in the appeal. Maybe Michael Fiske took some appeal, so what? John Fiske pops him for the money and he uses this missing appeal as a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to dupe Evans and everybody else.

Well, Im not letting my guard down until we know for sure, Dellasandro said. The people in this building are my responsibility and weve already lost two of them. He looked over at McKenna. I hope you know what youre doing with Fiske.

I know exactly what Im doing with him. *����*����* Fiske caught up with Sara in the parking garage. It didnt take her long to explain what had happened.

Sara, I hoped I would never have to tell you this, but Chandler boxed me into a corner the other day. Im sure Im the reason you just lost your job.

Sara put the shopping bag in the trunk of her car. Im a big girl. Im responsible for my own actions.

Fiske leaned up against the car. Maybe I can go and talk to Ramsey and Knight, try and explain things to them?

Explain it how? What theyre alleging I did, I did. Sara closed the trunk and joined him. I assume they told you about your gun?

Fiske nodded. McKennas giving me an armed escort to my office so I can hand it over. He looked at her closely. So what are you going to do now?

I dont know. But Ive suddenly got a lot of free time on my hands. Ill try to find out about Tremaine and Rayfield.

You sure you still want to help?

At least I wont have ruined my career for nothing. What about you?

I dont have any choice in the matter.

He looked at his watch. How about I come by your place around seven tonight?

I think I can manage dinner. Buy some food, a nice bottle of wine. I might even get real ambitious and dust. We can celebrate my last day at the Court. Maybe go for another sail. She paused and touched his arm. And finish it off the same way?

I can bag Richmond and stay with you. I know how you must be feeling.

But what about Chandler and McKenna?

I dont have to do what they say.

If you dont go, McKenna will probably push for the electric chair. Besides, to tell you the truth, I feel really good.

Are you sure?

Im sure, John, but thanks. She stroked his face. Tonight you can be with me.

After Fiske left, Sara was about to get in her car when she realized she had left her purse, with her car keys, in the bag in the trunk. She popped the trunk and reached in the bag to get her purse. As she lifted it out, the photo on top caught her eye. She had taken it from Michael Fiskes office before the police had searched it. It suddenly occurred to her that she did have something very important to take care of. She got in her car and pulled out of the garage. She had just been fired as a Supreme Court clerk. Oddly, she didnt feel like bursting into tears, or slipping her head in an oven. She felt like going for a drive. Down to Richmond. She needed to see somebody. And today was as good a day as any. When she drove past the columned facade of her old place of work, a great wave of relief swept over her. It was so sudden that it left her breathless. Then, bit by bit, she was okay. She accelerated down Independence Avenue and didnt look back. ["C52"]CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Fiske hurried down to Knights chambers and, surprisingly, was allowed in. Knight sat behind her desk. Ramsey was still there, slumped in a chair. He quickly rose when Fiske entered. Fiske plunged in. I want you to know that anything Sara did or didnt do was to protect my brother. All shes trying to do now is help me find who killed him.

And youre sure that question wouldnt be answered by your simply looking in a mirror? Ramsey said forcefully. Fiske paled. Youre way off the mark, sir.

Am I? The authorities dont seem to think so. If you are a murderer, then I hope you spend the rest of your life in prison. As for your brothers actions, they reside not far down the ladder from taking someones life, at least in my book.

My brother did what he thought was right.

I find that statement positively laughable.

Harold Knight began, but he cut her off with a sweep of his hand.

And I want you he pointed at Fiske to get out of this office and out of this building before I have you arrested for trespassing.

Fiske looked at the two of them. The anger he was feeling right now was the culmination of the last three days of sheer hell. It was as though everything bad that had ever happened to him had been caused by Harold Ramsey. Ive seen the nice little sign over the front door of this place: Equal Justice Under Law? I find that laughable.

Ramsey looked ready to attack Fiske. How dare you!

Ive got a client on death row right now. If I ever have the honor of appearing before you, can you tell me youll actually care whether my guy lives or dies? Or will you just be using him and me to overturn a precedent that pissed you off ten years ago?

You insufferable

Can you tell me that? Fiske shouted. Because if you cant, then I dont know what you are, but youre sure as hell not a judge.

Ramsey was livid. What do you know about anything? The system

Fiske smacked his chest. Im the system. Me and the people I represent. Not you. Not this place.

Do you realize the magnitude of the issues we deal with here?

Whens the last time you sat and judged a battered wife? Or a molested child? Have you ever watched a man die in the electric chair? Have you? You sit up here and you never even see a real person. You dont hear from any live witnesses, you never hear from any of the people youll destroy or help by your actions. All you get is a bunch of high-powered lawyers throwing a bunch of paper at you. You have no idea of the faces, the people, the heartbreak and pain behind any of it. To you its some intellectual game. A game! Nothing more. Fiske stared at the man. His voice shook as he said, You think the big issues are so hard? Try dealing with the little ones.

I think you should leave, Knight said, almost pleadingly. Right now.

Fiske stared at Ramsey for a few seconds longer and then, calming down, he looked at the woman. You know, thats good advice, Counselor, I think Ill take it. Fiske turned to the door.

Mr. Fiske, Ramsey boomed out. Fiske slowly turned back. I have several good friends at the Virginia state bar. I think they should be apprised of the situation. I would think that appropriate action should be taken against you, perhaps resulting in suspension and subsequent disbarment.

Guilty until proved innocent? Thats your idea of how the criminal justice system should work?

Its my strong opinion that its only a matter of time until youre found guilty.

Fiske started to say something else, but Knight, one hand on the phone, said, John, I would much prefer if you left without the assistance of the guards. *����*����* After Fiske was gone, Ramsey shook his head. Beyond all doubt, the mans a psychopath.

He turned and looked at Knight. She sat there, staring straight ahead. Beth, I just want to let you know that youre welcome to use one of my clerks until you find a replacement for Sara.

She looked over at him. The offer of a clerk seemed very nice. On the surface. A spy in her camp underneath that surface?

Ill be fine. Well just have to work harder.

You put up a good fight at oral argument today, though I do wish you wouldnt take it personally. Its a little unseemly when we bicker back and forth like that in public.

How can I not take the cases personally, Harold? Tell me how. Her eyes were swollen, her voice suddenly hoarse.

You have to. I never lose sleep over a case. Even a death penalty one. We dont decide guilt or innocence. We interpret words. You have to think of it in those terms. Otherwise youll burn out.

Maybe burning out early is a preferable alternative to having a long, distinguished career that only challenges myintellect. Ramsey glanced sharply at her. I want to hurt, I want to feel the pain. Everyone else does. Why are we an exception? Dammit, we should be agonizing over these cases.

Ramsey shook his head sadly. Then Im afraid youll never endure. And you have to if you want to make a real difference up here.

Well see. I may surprise you. Starting today.

You dont have a chance of overturningStanley.But I admire your tenacity, even though it was wasted today.

The votes havent been counted yet that I recall.

Ramsey smiled. Of course, of course. A formality only. He put his hands in his pockets and stood in front of her. And just so you know, I also am aware of your plans to reexamine the issue of the rights of the poor

Harold, weve just lost our third clerk. A third human being. One whom I care greatly about. The place is in shambles. I dont feel like talking about Court business right now. I may never feel like it again, in fact.

Beth, we must move on. True, its been one crisis after another, but we will persevere.

Harold, please!

Ramsey would not back down. The court goes on. We

Knight stood up. Get out.

I beg your pardon?

Get out of my office.

Beth

Get out! Get out!

Without another word, Ramsey left. Knight stood there for another minute or so. Then she quickly left her office. *����*����* After his confrontation with Ramsey, Fiske entered the Courts underground garage and went straight to his car. He felt numb. He had gotten Sara fired, was being set up for murdering his brother and had just told off the chief justice of the United States. All in less than an hour. In any realm other than total lunacy, that would be called a bad day. He sat in his car. He had no desire to drive to Richmond and watch McKenna try to put the finishing touches on the destruction of his life. He pushed his fists against his eye sockets. A groan escaped from him and then he jerked forward as he heard the sound. His eyes widened as he saw Elizabeth Knight tapping on the car window. He rolled it down.

I would like to talk to you.

He composed himself as best he could. What about?

Can we go for a short drive? I dont think Id risk bringing you back in the building. Im not sure Ive ever seen Harold quite that upset.

Fiske thought he saw a trace of a smile on the womans face as she said this. You want to go for a drive in my car? he asked.

I dont have a car here. Is there a problem with yours?

Fiske looked at her expensive dress. Well, my cars interior is basically rust covered with a veneer of grime.

Knight smiled. I grew up on a ranch in East Texas. When my family drove to the little shacks that constituted the town we lived near, we did so on a backhoe with me and my six siblings hanging on for dear life and enjoying every minute of it. And Iwouldlike to talk to you.

Fiske finally nodded and Knight slipped in the front seat.

Where to? Fiske asked as they left the garage.

Take a left at the light. I hope you dont have anything pressing. It was rude of me not to ask.

Fiske thought of McKenna waiting for him. Nothing important.

After he made the turn, Knight started speaking. You shouldnt have come back and said those things, you know.

I hope you didnt come here just to tell me that, Fiske said sharply.

I came to tell you that I feel terribly about Sara.

Join the crowd. She tried to help my brother and then me. Im sure she just loves the day she ran into the Fiske brothers.

Well, at least one of you anyway.

What does that mean?

Sara liked and respected your brother. But she didnt love him, although, quite frankly, I think he was in love with her. But her heart lies elsewhere.

Is that right? And she told you this?

John, I really dont like to admit to any gender bias, but I also refuse to ignore some basic realities: I doubt if my eight male colleagues have any clue whatsoever, but its clear to me that Sara Evans is very much in love with you.

Your womanly intuition?

Something like that. I also have two girls of my own. She noted his curious look. My first husband died. My daughters are grown and on their own. Knight put her hands in her lap and looked out the window. However, thats not really why I wanted to talk to you, she said. Turn right, up here, she said. As Fiske did so, he asked, So what is on your agenda? You people seem to always have one.

And you find that somehow wrong?

You tell me. Seeing the games you people play doesnt give me warm fuzzies.

I can respect that point of view.

Im in no position to really judge what you do. But, to me, youre not judges, youre policymakers. And what that policy will be depends on who lobbies hard enough to get five votes. What does that have to do with the rights of one plaintiff and one defendant? As soon as Fiske had finished speaking he had a sudden, depressing thought: He had no room to complain about the Court and how it operated. He spent all his time dodging the truth on behalf of his clients. In a way, that was worse than anything the Court did or didnt do in the name of justice. They drove in silence for a minute until Knight broke it. I started out as a prosecutor. And then became a trial judge. She paused. I cant tell you that your feelings are wrong. Fiske looked mildly surprised. John, we could debate this until were both sick of it, but the fact is there is a system in place and one must work within that system. If that means playing by its rules and, on occasion, bending them, so be it. Perhaps thats an oversimplified philosophy for a complex situation, but sometimes you have to go with your gut. She looked at him. Do you know what I mean?

He nodded. My instincts are pretty good.

And what do your instincts tell you about Michael and Stevens deaths? Is there anything to this story of the missing appeal? If there is, I would really like to know about it.

Why ask me?

Because you seem to know more than anyone else. Thats why I wanted to talk to you in private.

Are you really hoping that I killed my brother and Im using this appeal as a red herring? That way the Court doesnt get a black eye.

I didnt say that.

You said as much to Sara at your party.

Knight sighed and sat back. Im not sure why I did. Perhaps to scare her away from you.

I didnt kill my brother.

I believe you. So this missing appeal may be important?

Fiske nodded. My brother was killed because he knew what that appeal said. I think Wright was killed because he was working late, came out of his office and saw someone at the Court going through my brothers office.

She turned pale. You believe someone at the Court murdered Steven? Fiske nodded. Can you prove that?

I hope so.

That cant be, John. Why?

Theres a guy whos spent half his life in prison whod like to know the answer to that.

Does Detective Chandler know all this?

Some of it. But Agent McKenna has pretty much convinced him Im the bad guy.

Im not sure Detective Chandler believes that.

Well see.

As Fiske dropped Knight back at the Court, she said, If everything you suspect is true and someone at the Court is involved in this . . . She stopped, unable to continue for a moment. Do you realize what this could do to the Courts reputation?

Im not sure of a lot in life, but Im certain of one thing. He paused and then said, The Courts reputation isnt worth an innocent man dying in prison.

["C53"]CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Rufus looked anxiously over at his brother, who had just finished an exhausting coughing fit. Josh tried to sit up a little, thinking that would help his breathing. His insides, he knew, were all but destroyed. Something important to keeping him alive might burst at any moment. He still held the pistol against his side. But it didnt look like a bullet would be needed to end his life. At least, not another one. It was fortunate for them that Tremaine and Rayfield hadnt come in an Army vehicle. But the Jeep did have one crushed side from being broadsided by the truck and this would draw unwanted attention to them. At least it had a cloth top, which prevented anyone from getting a good glimpse of what was inside. Rufus didnt know where he was going, and Josh moved in and out of lucidity too much to really help him. Rufus flipped open the glove box and pulled out a map. He studied it quickly and traced the route to Richmond with his finger. He had to get to the highway. If he had to he would stop and ask directions. He pulled the little card out of his shirt pocket and glanced at the names and telephone numbers. Now he just had to find a phone. *����*����* When Fiske and McKenna arrived at Fiskes office, the FBI agent said, Lets get to it.

We wait for the police, Fiske said firmly. Just as he said that, a police cruiser pulled up and Officer Hawkins climbed out.

What the hecks going on here, John? Hawkins asked, perplexed. Fiske pointed at McKenna. Agent McKenna thinks I killed Mike. Hes here to get my gun so he can do a ballistics test.

Hawkins looked at McKenna with hostile eyes. If thats not the biggest bunch of bullshit I ever heard . . .

Right, thanks for your official assessment Officer Hawkins, is it? McKenna said, coming forward.

Thats right, Hawkins said grimly.

Well, Officer Hawkins, you have the consent of Mr. Fiske to search his office for a nine-millimeter pistol registered to his name. He looked at Fiske. Im assuming you are still giving that consent. When Fiske didnt respond, McKenna looked back at Hawkins. Now, if you have a problem with that, then lets go talk to your boss and you can start planning another career outside of law enforcement.

Before Hawkins could do something foolish, Fiske grabbed his sleeve and said, Lets just go get this over with, Billy.

As they walked into the building, Fiske commented, Your face looks a lot better.

Hawkins smiled, embarrassed. Yeah, thanks.

What happened? McKenna asked. Hawkins looked at him sullenly. Guy decided to take a ride on drugs. He was a little difficult to arrest.

There was a stack of mail and packages in front of Fiskes office door. He picked them up and unlocked the door. They went inside and Fiske walked over to his desk and dropped the stack of mail on it. He slid open the top drawer and looked inside. He stuck his hand in and fumbled through the contents before looking up at both men. It was right in this drawer. I actually saw it the day you came to tell me about Mike, Billy.

McKenna crossed his arms and eyed Fiske sternly. Okay, has anybody else had access to your office? Cleaning crew, secretary, delivery people, window washers?

No, nobody. Nobody else has a key, except for the landlord.

Hawkins said, Youve been gone, what, two days or so?

Thats right.

McKenna was looking at the door. But theres no signs of forced entry.

Hawkins said, That doesnt mean anything. Person who knew what they were doing could pick that lock and youd never even know it.

Who knew you kept the gun here? McKenna asked.

Nobody.

Maybe one of your clients took it so hed have a piece of ordnance to knock over a bank with, McKenna said.

I dont interview clients in my office, McKenna. Theyre usually in prison by the time I get the call.

Well, it looks like we have a little problem here. Your brother was killed by a nine-millimeter slug. You have a nine-millimeter Sig registered to you. You admit it was actually in your possession as of a few days ago. Now that pistol is missing. You have no alibi for the time of your brothers death and youre a half million bucks richer because of his death.

Hawkins glanced over at Fiske. A life insurance policy Mike took out, Fiske explained. It was for Mom and Dad.

At least thats your story, right? McKenna added. Fiske edged closer to McKenna. If you think you have enough to charge me, then do it. If not, get the hell out of my office.

McKenna wasnt fazed. I believe Officer Hawkins has your consent to search your entire office for the gun, not just the drawer you said it was in. Now, friend or not, I would expect him to carry out his sworn duty.

Fiske backed off and looked over at Hawkins. Go ahead, Billy. Im going down to the corner caf�or something to drink. You want anything? Hawkins shook his head.

I could use a cup of coffee, McKenna said, following Fiske out. Itll give us a chance to have a little talk. *����*����* Sara pulled her car into the driveway. She took a deep breath. The Buick was there. As she got out of the car, the smell of cut grass hit her. It was comforting, taking her back to high school football games, lazy summers in the peace of the Carolinas. When she knocked on the door, it was jerked open so quickly she almost fell off the stoop. Ed Fiske must have watched her drive up. Before he could slam the door in her face, she held the photo out to him. There were four people in the photo: Ed and Gladys Fiske and their two sons. They all wore broad smiles. Ed looked questioningly at Sara.

Michael had it in his office. I wanted you to have it.

And whys that? His tone was still cold, but at least he wasnt screaming obscenities at her.

Because it seemed like the right thing to do.

Ed took the photo from her. I got nothing to say to you.

But I have a lot to say to you. I promised someone something, and I like to keep my promises.

Who? Johnny? Well, you can tell him that its no good sending you over to try to mend things.

He doesnt know Im here. He told me not to come.

He looked surprised. So why are you here?

That promise. What you saw the other night wasnt Johns fault. It was mine.

It takes two to tango and you aint telling me no different.

May I come in?

I dont see why.

Id really like to talk to you about your sons. I think you need to know some things. Some information that might make things a little clearer. It wont take all that long and I promise you, after Im done, I wont ever bother you again. Please?

After a long moment, Ed finally moved aside and let her pass. He closed the door noisily behind them. The living room was much the way it had been the first time she had seen it. The man liked things tidy. She imagined his garage full of tools kept in the same manner. Ed motioned to the sofa and Sara sat down. He went into the dining room and carefully placed the photo among the others there. You want something to drink? he asked grudgingly.

Only if youre having something.

Ed sat down in a chair across from her.

Im not.

She looked at him closely. Now she could more clearly see the rough outlines of both sons in his face, his build. The mother was there too, though more in Michael than in John. Ed started to light up a cigarette and then stopped.

You can smoke if you want. Its your house.

Ed replaced the pack of smokes in his pocket and slid the lighter back in his pants pocket. Gladys wouldnt let me smoke in the house, just outside. Old habits are hard to break. He crossed his arms, waiting for her to start talking.

Michael and I were very close friends.

Im not sure how close you couldve been after what I saw the other night. Eds face started to flush.

The fact is, Mr. Fiske

Look, just call me Ed, he said gruffly.

All right, Ed, the fact is we were close friends. Thats how I saw it, but Michael wanted more than that.

What do you mean?

Sara swallowed hard, her own face reddening. Michael asked me to marry him.

Ed looked shocked. He never said anything to me.

Im sure he didnt. You see she hesitated for a moment, very nervous about what his reaction would be to these next words you see, I told him no. She shrank back a little, but Fiske just sat there, trying to digest this.

Is that right? I take it you didnt love him.

I didnt not like that, anyway. Im not sure why I didnt. He seemed perfect. Maybe thats what scared me, sharing my life with someone like that, trying to keep my standards up that high for a lifetime. And he was so caught up in his work. Even if I had loved him, Im not sure there would have been room for me.

Ed looked down. It was hard raising those two boys. Johnny was good at most everything, but Mike . . . Mike was flat-out great at anything he wanted to do. I was working all the damn time and didnt really see it that good when they were growing up. I see it a whole lot better now. I bragged a lot on Mike. Too much. Mike told me Johnny wouldnt have nothing to do with him, and wouldnt really say why. Johnny really keeps to himself. Hard to get him to talk.

Sara looked past him, out the window, where a cardinal flitted by and settled on the branch of a weeping willow. She said, I know. Ive spent a lot of time with him the last few days. You know, I always thought Id be able to tell, almost instantly: This is the person I want to spend my life with. I guess that notion seems silly. And unfair. Doesnt it?

A tiny smile creased the mans face. The first time I saw Gladys, she was waitressing at this little diner across from where I worked. I walked in the door with a bunch of my buddies one day and from the moment I saw her I didnt hear a word they said. It was like it was just me and her in the whole damn world. Went back to work and made a mess of a Cummins diesel engine. Couldnt get her out of my head.

Sara smiled. Im well acquainted with the stubbornness of John and Michael Fiske. So I doubt if you just left it at that.

Ed smiled too. I went back over to that diner for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next six months. We started going out. Then I got up the courage to ask her to marry me. I swear to God I wouldve done it that first day, but I thought shed think I was crazy or something. He paused for a moment and then said with finality, Weve had a damn good life together too. He studied her face. Is that what happened to you when you saw Johnny? Sara nodded. Did Mike know?

I think he figured it out. When I finally met John I asked him if he had any idea why the two of them didnt seem to be close. I thought that might have been part of it, but they seemed to have drifted apart before then. Sara tensed. So that night in the boat, what you saw was me pushing myself on your son. He had been through the most hellish day imaginable and all I could think about was myself. She looked directly at him. He turned me down flat. She thought of last night, the tenderness she and John Fiske had exchanged, both in and out of her bed. And then the morning after. She thought she had figured it all out. That had been a good feeling. Now she was close to overwhelmed by the sense that she knew nothing about the man or his feelings. She let out a troubled laugh. It was a very humbling experience. She pulled a tissue from her pocketbook and dabbed at her eyes. Thats all I came to tell you. If you want to hate anyone, hate me, not your son.

Ed studied the carpet for a minute and then stood. Just finished cutting the grass. Id like an iced tea, how about you? With a surprised look, Sara nodded. A few minutes later Ed came back with glasses of ice and a pitcher of tea. As he filled the glasses he said, Ive thought a lot about that night. I dont remember all of it. Had a damn bad hangover the next day. As mad as I was, I never shouldve hit Johnny. Not in the damn gut.

Hes pretty tough.

Thats not what I meant. Ed took a swallow of tea and sat back, chewing on his lip. Did Johnny ever tell you why he left the police force?

He said he had arrested some young kid for a drug offense. That the kid was so pathetic and everything, that he decided to start helping people like that.

Ed nodded. Well, he didnt actually arrest him. That boy died at the scene. And so did the officer that backed Johnny up on that call.

Sara almost spilled her tea. What?

Ed looked a little uncomfortable now that he had opened this subject, but he continued. Johnny never really talked about it, but I got the story from the officers who arrived after it all happened. Johnny stopped the car for some reason. It was stolen, I think. Anyway, he called in for backup. He got the two boys out of the car. Found the drugs. Thats when his backup came. Right before they were going to search them, one of the boys dropped like he was having a seizure. Johnny tried to help him. His backup shouldve kept his gun on the other, but he didnt, and the other fellow pulled a gun and killed him. Johnny managed to fire, but the boy put two rounds into him.

They both went down, facing each other. The other boy had just been faking it. He jumped up and took off in the car. They caught him a little while later. The other fellow and Johnny were about a foot apart, both bleeding like crazy.

Omigod!

Johnny stuffed a finger in one of the holes. It stopped the bleeding a little. Well and I heard some of this from him while he was in the hospital half out of his head the boy said some things to Johnny. Im not exactly sure what, Johnny never would say, but they found the boy dead and Johnny next to him, his arm around him. Mustve dragged himself over there or something. Some of the cops didnt exactly like that, what with one of their own lying dead because of the kid. But they checked everything out and Johnny was cleared. It was the other cops fault. Anyway, Johnny almost died on the way to the hospital. As it was, he was in there for about a month. Whatever load the boy was carrying in that pistol ripped Johnnys insides to shreds.

Sara suddenly thought back to Fiskes pulling his shirt back down before they made love. Does he have a scar?

Ed looked at her funny. Why do you ask?

Something he said.

He nodded slowly. From his gut to his neck.

Too old for skinny-dipping, Sara said to herself.

Guess they couldve done some plastic surgery, but Johnny had had enough of hospitals. Besides, I think he figured if they couldnt fix him on the inside, what the hell did it matter what he looked like on the outside?

Saras face took on a stricken look. What do you mean? He fully recovered, didnt he?

Ed shook his head sadly. Those bullets ripped him bad, bounced around inside him like a damn pinball. They patched him up, but just about every one of his organs was damaged for good. Maybe they could make it all right if Johnny wanted to spend a bunch of years in the hospital, have transplants and stuff like that. But that aint my son. Docs say eventually things inside him are just going to stop working. They said it was like diabetes you know, how a persons organs get worn out and all? Sara nodded as her own stomach started to churn. Well, the docs said those two bullets will eventually cost Johnny about twenty years of his life, maybe more. And there wasnt really nothing they could do about it. Back then we didnt care. Hell, he was alive, that was enough. But I know he thinks about it. He pumped iron, ran like a damn demon, got himself in good shape, at least on the outside. Quit the police force. Wouldnt even take damn disability, although he was sure as hell entitled. Became a lawyer, works like a dog for what amounts to chickenshit, and gives me and his momma most of it. I got no pension and Gladyss medical bills added up to more than I made in my whole life. Hell, we had to mortgage this place again after spending thirty years paying it off. But you do what you got to do.