Chapter 14
I told Tom I needed to visit Macguire, do a few errands, check on Arch, and try to call Marla. He said he might be home late. He was still working the soccer arrests. I squeezed his hand and left quickly. I tried to will away a pang of remorse. I wasn’t deceiving him yet, I told myself. I just needed to help Marla.
I drove away from the sheriff’s department in a thick mist. When I saw the orange and green lights of a convenience store, I parked. The day Marla had had her heart attack, I’d been away catering. I’d always felt guilty for my absence, as if her lonely physical ordeal, the Flight-For-Life helicopter ride, the surgery, were events where I should have been beside her. Now, almost a year later, she’d been savagely beaten, accused of murder, and jailed. No amount of low
