33
I woke to a garbage truck rumbling through the neighborhood at nine the next morning. The blisters on my left hand looked red and angry. Possibly infected. But I was too numb to care.
I was halfway through a dreary-eyed breakfast when my phone rang.
“Good news,” said Kirsten when I answered it. “The Maricopa County Attorney’s Office has dropped the charges against you.”
“Really? Why?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Deputy County Attorney Perkins was unusually abrupt. He said the charges had been dropped and hung up. Maybe he thought it’d look bad to be prosecuting one of the heroes of the Main Drag shooting.”
“Heroes! Like hell.” I scoffed. “Suppose I should take good news wherever I can find it. When will I get my pistol back?”
“I’ll look into it, but considering it was seized as evid
