“Poor bastard never saw it coming. He just stood there with his life vanishing in front of him. I stole at least a year from him. Maybe more. I did hit myself twice just to make it look extra bad. It’s almost a guarantee they’ll be putting him away longer.”
He sighs and slumps lower in his seat. “The entire reason I needed him gone was for a girl. She won’t even talk to me. But she’ll come around. I love her. Doesn’t she want to be happy with me? Doesn’t matter. We’re gonna get married.”
Over my dead body.
I cough into my fist as tears begin welling. Grady is locked up while this man is roaming free. Talk about abusing the system. But justice is about to be served.
The phone trembles in my hand as I switch off the camera. I’ve seen plenty to put him away and clear Grady’s name. My sandals thud on the tile floor as I haul ass out of this joint. I’m not running the risk of that lunatic catching me.
Once I’m outside, the realization of what this means really dawns on me. My knees knock together and I stumble over the curb. Grady will get to prove his innocence. He’ll be released. His redemption will be the sweetest reward.
I almost drop my cell in the bubbling rush to find our police station’s number. The line rings twice before he answers.
“This is Chief Wilson speaking.”
“Hi, uh, sir. This is Sutton Olsen.” I grind the tremor from my voice. “I have something you need to see. Immediately.”
32
Grady
Happy something #60: Unexplainable miracles.
The electric hum of the locks disengaging wake me from a fitful doze. I’d finally managed to drift off, but that sound is more effective than any alarm. My system reboots and snaps alert as if a cold bucket of water has been dumped all over me. This is most likely one of their non-mandatory cell inspections. I don’t bother lifting my head off the disintegrating pillow.
Matthew strides in and kicks the bed frame. “Get up, inmate.”
Pretty sure it’s barely morning. This has to violate some sort of protocol. I remain slack on the mattress. “I’m sleeping.”
He makes the sound of a buzzard. “Wrong. You’re leaving.”
That gets a rise out of me. I sit up and nearly knock my skull on the top bunk. “What the hell do you mean? Trial isn’t for another two weeks.”
Matthews hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re getting out, dumbass. Get your ass up and get a move on. You’re burning daylight.”
I glare at him. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“Even we don’t stoop that low, Bowen. New evidence came in and cleared your name. You’re a free man.”
I want to holler and scream, thank whatever lucky stars graced me with the light. But the thing I want most is a hug from my girl. My legs are unsteady when I stand. The relief is sinking straight to my marrow.
“Grab your shit.”
“Don’t have any.” Except Sutton’s letter, which is securely tucked into my waistband. This asshole will never get his paws on what’s mine again.
“Even better.” He moves out of the doorway and motions me forward.
I’ve never sprinted so fast in my adult life.
“Damn fool,” Matthews mutters behind me. “Walk, don’t run.”
All I do is wave and keep moving toward the first checkpoint.
Being released from county jail is a zero frills affair. I’m shuffled from one station to the next as guards review different procedures and discharge orders. They hand over the clothes I was wearing when arrested. A pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt has never looked so inviting. I strip off the orange jumpsuit, shedding that disgusting layer of skin never to be seen again. A glance in the smudged mirror shows a man I almost recognize.
Maybe this version will be better than the last.
I’m bouncing on my toes while waiting to pass through the security scanner. A guard manning the entrance gives me a bag of my personal belongings. I palm my phone, powering the device on. Score for me when the screen flashes to life.
