We didn’t kiss hello; we never did. I don’t think I know another woman in the world, outside of work, who doesn’t kiss me hello, but Julie never did. At least not since the night we did a lot more than kiss.
She just about grabbed the waiter and ordered a drink, a favorite of hers called a “Dark and Stormy.” She asked for it the way she might ask for a life preserver on a ship about to go down, but didn’t wait for it to come before handing me the envelope she had brought.
“Everything you ever wanted to know about Christopher Gallagher,” she said.
“Summarize it,” I said.
“No, it’s bedtime reading for you, but you won’t sleep much after you read it. You do the talking.”
I took her through everything that had transpired since we last talked, including showing her printed copies of the e-mails that Bryan and I had exchanged. It was depressing in the telling, as it drove home the reality that we were getting nowhere.
I was getting nowhere.
“Do you think I should bring in the Feds?” I asked.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “And I don’t think you should.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re a machine, and they will do what they’re programmed to do. They’ll try and catch Gallagher, though I don’t think they’ll be able to. But if they did catch him, it wouldn’t go the way that we want.”
“I’m chasing something that doesn’t exist,” I said.
She nodded. “I know.”
“I’m going to have to fake it,” I said.
She nodded again, and pointed to the folder that I had brought. “Which is why you wanted the case information from Bollinger.”
“Right. I need you to go through it. I saw a few possibilities that we can go after, maybe find a credible villain…”
“So I’ve got my own bedtime reading,” she said.
“Yeah. Julie, is there anything you want me to say to Bryan for you? Or you could e-mail him yourself.”
“I don’t think I should. This is a nightmare for him, and I want it to be as bearable as possible. If he wanted to hear from me, he would e-mail me. You think I’m wrong?”
I nodded. “I think you’re wrong.”
She thought about it for a while. “Tell him I love him. And tell him I’m sorry.”
Chris Gallagher was waiting on my porch when I got home.
He was sitting there, not a care in the world, like he belonged and was thinking of organizing a neighborhood block party. I wasn’t particularly surprised.
“How come you didn’t break in?” I asked.
“No need for the drama anymore,” he said. “You want to talk inside, or out here?”
“Inside.”
We went into the kitchen, and I stopped at the refrigerator. I took out two bottles of beer, and tossed one to Gallagher.
“The gracious host,” he said.
“Hopefully you’re doing the same for my brother.”
“I assume you’re asking him in your e-mails,” he said.
“And I assume you’re reading them.”
He shook his head. “No. I could, but I’m not.”
“You’re full of shit,” I said.
He smiled. “I am many things, but I am not full of shit. I don’t say words unless I mean them.”
“So why are you letting him e-mail?”
“Steven e-mailed me in Afghanistan; it’s the way we kept in touch. I heard from him just six hours before you killed him. Unfortunately, all I did with his e-mails was read them.”
“So Bryan being able to e-mail me satisfies some sense of justice you have?”
He shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t try to figure myself out much.”
“So what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Checking on your progress, assuming you’re making some.”
“It’s been one day,” I said.
“You’ve only got seven.”
“That’s not enough.”
“On behalf of your brother, I’m sorry to hear that. Now tell me where you are.”
I was having a tough time deciding how much to tell him, since at that point I didn’t even know enough to come up with a credible fake scenario. I decided to be as nonspecific as I could get away with.
“There’s an entire task force working on this, though they are not aware of the situation with you and Bryan. We’re taking a two-pronged approach. We’re attempting to establish an alibi for Steven, trying to find out where he was at the time of the murder, and whether anyone can place him away from the scene.”
“How is that going?”
“We’re not there yet. But I have a proposition for you. I am willing to go on national television and say that Steven was innocent, that I shot the wrong man. And when Bryan is released, I won’t go back on that. I promise.”
“No good,” he said.
“Why not? It will clear Steven’s name in the eyes of the world. Isn’t that what this is about? You already believe in him; he doesn’t need to be cleared in your eyes, does he?”
He ignored this. “You said two-pronged approach; what’s the other one?”
“We’re trying to identify other suspects. These could come from defendants in Brennan’s courtroom who might have carried a grudge against him, or people with a reason to fear how Brennan might help decide cases before the Appeals Court.”
Gallagher nodded, apparently agreeing with the approach. “And where are you on all that?” he asked.
“We’re one day in, Gallagher. One day.”
“It took less time than that for you to go after Steven,” he said.
“We were there to question him, that’s all. He had a gun, and he raised it.”
“That’s bullshit.”
It hit me that Gallagher knew less than I had imagined. “He left a suicide note.”
Gallagher reacted angrily. “Be careful, Luke. I am not someone you want to bullshit.”
“I’m telling you the truth. It said that he couldn’t take it anymore. And he said, ‘Tell Chris I’m sorry.’”
“Shut your mouth.”
“So you’re better at telling the truth than hearing it? I can get the note and show it to you, if you’d like.”
He was quiet for a few moments, sort of bowing his head. I couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or not. The really unsettling thing was that I had no idea how he would react; he was a complete mystery to me. Bryan’s life would ultimately depend on whether I figured him out.
When he finally spoke, it was softly, and the words did not seem to come easily. “He was scared. He was alone, and he was scared, and everything ahead of him seemed awful. But you made sure there was nothing ahead of him.”
“That’s what Bryan is going through right now.”
“It’s different for him,” Gallagher said. “He’s got someone to help him. Don’t blow it.”
“Let him go, and I promise I’ll work just as hard to clear Steven.”
He stood up. “Six days,” he said, and then left.
