Trial Junkies

gate at the end of the cell block rolled open and a pair of heels clicked down the hallway toward him.

Then Waverly came into view wearing a somber, weary expression. 'You look pretty relaxed for a man behind bars.'

'Gotta save my energy for the big escape tonight. Did you look at that file?'

'Forget about the file,' she said. 'I'm not here for that.'

'What, then?'

'I spoke to the judge after court and blamed your irrational behavior on your misguided sense of loyalty. When he isn't shouting obscenities, he can be a reasonable man.'

'He's letting me go?'

'Only if you agree to cooperate with the police.'

Hutch balked. 'About what?'

'You sure you don't know?'

There was a look on her face that said he should, but Hutch was clueless. 'Are you talking about the Tillman suicide? They already grilled me about-'

'This is a lot more important than Tillman. Or you sitting in a jail cell.'

'Okay…' Hutch said, feeling guarded now but not sure why. 'Then what are we talking about?'

'They want to know where she is, Hutch.'

He frowned. 'Where who is?'

She studied him carefully, as if assessing his sincerity. 'You really don't know, do you?'

'Know what? I swear to Christ if you don't spit it out I'm gonna reach through these bars and throttle you.'

She studied him a moment longer. 'During court this afternoon, we took a short break and Ronnie went to the restroom. She never came back.'

Hutch gaped at her. 'What?'

'She went to your apartment, assaulted her mother, then grabbed her son and took off for parts unknown.' Waverly paused. 'And the police think you helped her.'

PART FOUR

Closing Argument

— 55 -

'Keep them coming,' Hutch said. 'I'm gonna be here a while.'

The bartender splashed single malt into the glass, and as Hutch went to pick it up, a hand reached out from behind him and touched his wrist.

'Easy, Brando. You sure you want to go this route?'

It was Matt. Andy standing next to him. The Monkey House was fairly crowded, but it didn't look as if they'd broken a sweat finding him.

Hutch caught their gazes in the mirror behind the bar, then grabbed the shot glass. 'What do I have to lose?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Andy said as he slid onto the stool to Hutch's left. 'Ten months sobriety?'

'Too little, too late,' Hutch told him, then knocked the liquid back and felt its warmth, like the embrace of an old friend.

Matt took the stool to his right. 'Don't do this, man. We're all hurting right now, but it doesn't have to come to this.'

'What do you know about it?'

Matt tossed an AA coin to the bar. An ancient RIDE CLEAN, RIDE FREE medallion that had spent a lot of time in someone's pocket.

Hutch looked at him in surprise and Matt shook his head. 'Not mine, my old man's. He was twenty years sober, then spent his last one at the bottom of a bottle until he plowed into a tree and killed himself and his two passengers. My niece and nephew.'

'Jesus,' Hutch said. 'You're really cheering me up.' He set the glass on the bar and signaled to the bartender to hit him again. 'How come you never told me about this?'

'I'm sure there a lot of things we don't know about each other, Hutch. We spent all that time in that house, we had a lot of laughs, but how often did we bear our souls? We were too young, dumb and full of cum for any of that nonsense.'

Hutch smiled. 'Isn't that the truth.'

'Hey,' Andy said, 'I'm not all that old, and I've got the other two covered on a pretty regular basis-so what's your point?'

Hutch laughed now, shaking his head. 'I really missed you two idiots, you know that? I missed all of you. I didn't even realize it until I came back. And I sure as hell didn't think I'd wind up falling for one of America's most wanted.'

'What happened with the police?' Matt asked. 'Do they still think you helped her?'

'Who gives a shit? They hammered me with a bunch of questions, but they didn't have anything to hold me on so they finally let me go. I'm sure the tabloids will say I'm the mastermind and the money behind the whole thing. And the truth is, the way I've been feeling lately, I probably would have been if Ronnie had really pressed it.'

'I'm surprised they aren't all over you right now. The tabloids, that is.'

Hutch downed another shot, ignoring Matt's look of disapproval. 'I've become an expert at subterfuge and misdirection.'

'They'll show up here sooner or later. You know they will.'

Hutch shrugged. 'So be it. I'll be too drunk to care.'

He signaled to the bartender again and Matt said, 'How's Ronnie's mother doing?'

'Waverly says she wasn't seriously hurt. But she's pissed. Pretty much volunteered to testify against Ronnie when they catch her.'

'You think they will?' Andy asked.

Hutch chuckled. 'Is that a serious question?'

Lola Baldacci had only suffered a minor head bruise when she tried to stop Ronnie from taking Christopher out of Hutch's apartment. She had been treated at Chicago Memorial and released, then went back home to her house in Roscoe Village-which was undoubtedly under siege right now by the aforementioned tabloids.

As much as he hated the circumstances, Hutch was glad to see Lola gone. He was pretty sure she considered him the spawn of Lucifer and he was relieved he wouldn't have to put up with any cold, judgmental stares. He got enough of that when he looked in the mirror.

He did, however, regret that he'd never again taste that amazing pasta.

'So with Ronnie out of the picture,' Matt asked, 'what happens to the trial?'

'Waverly says O'Donnell will probably declare a mistrial. Then Abernathy'll tack some additional charges onto the indictment and be able to start clean with the murder weapon as his centerpiece.' He shook his head in disgust as he reached for the glass of whiskey. 'A murder weapon that was planted,' he added, then looked at Matt. 'Did Langer ever show up to admire his handiwork?'

'No sign of him all day.'

Hutch knocked the scotch back. 'So no matter how you slice it, Ronnie's fucked.'

'No pun intended, right?'

No pun intended.