Joel Goldman: Chasing The Dead

“Bonnie was right. I probably didn’t have to kill those men, but I did. And the cops who investigated the shootings, well, let’s just say they take care of their own. After I left your house that day, I went home and got drunk, and when I sobered up, I realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“All this time I was chasing after you, I was really chasing the dead, and I’m done doing that.”

Alex went home. Bonnie was waiting for her with a bottle of their favorite wine, ready to toast Alex’s first day in her new job, until Alex’s cell phone chirped with a text. It was from Claire Mason, her law school mentor and the lawyer who had defended her when she was charged with murdering Dwayne Reed. Alex opened her phone and read the text.

“Who texted you?”

“Claire.”

“What did she want?”

“You know she’s part of that national group of defense lawyers who’ve volunteered to defend the detainees at Guantanamo?”

“Yes.”

“Here.” She handed Bonnie the phone. “Read it.”

Bonnie read the text aloud.

“I need you. Come to Guantanamo as soon as you can. And bring Bonnie.”