Home Front

“Yeah. I’m aware. ”

Before she could say anything to make him feel worse, he left the kitchen and walked into his office, where, thankfully, it was quiet. He closed the door behind him and sank into the chair by his desk.

He didn’t think he could do this. And this was taking care of his children.

What in the hell was wrong with him? How could he be such a success in the courtroom and in his office and with his clients but fail so completely with his own family?

He sighed. His wife had been gone less than a month, and already he was tired of feeling like a failure in his own home.

Eleven

The next morning, Betsy still wasn’t talking to him. Michael awoke early, started breakfast, and got the girls to school on time. When he finally got to his desk—late—he was already tired. But at least he felt competent here.

At eleven o’clock, the call he’d been waiting for came in.

Keith had requested an interview. Finally.

Michael grabbed his notes and left the office. Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the King County jail and took a seat in a dingy interview room.

Keith came into the room, wearing the orange jail jumpsuit, his wrists shackled in front of him, leg chains scraping and jangling across the stone-tiled floor.

“Leave us,” Michael said to the guard. “And uncuff him. ”

“Sir—”

“Uncuff him,” Michael repeated. “I understand the risks. ”

The guard frowned but did as he was asked, then left the room to stand guard just outside the door.

Keith sat down at the table across from Michael, rigidly upright. In the pale overhead lighting, he looked surprisingly young and fresh-faced. His crew cut had grown out, stood up now like a jagged blond crown above his face. “My father says I have to talk to you. ”

“I’m trying to keep you out of prison. You’re not making my job easy, by the way. ”

“Did you ever think I don’t deserve to be saved?”

“No,” Michael said evenly. “I didn’t. And neither has your father. Or your mother, who I hear cries herself to sleep at night. ”

“Low blow. ”

Michael opened his pad and uncapped a pen. “You know why I’m here, Keith. You promised your dad you’d tell me what happened that day. And I hear you military types are big on keeping promises. ”

“I killed the love of my life,” Keith said, and finally there was emotion in his eyes. “I must have. ”

“What? What do you mean, ‘you must have’ ? ”

“I’m crazy,” Keith said quietly. “I must be. I can’t remember shooting my own wife. Does that sound sane to you?”

Michael studied his client. Honestly, this was the first good news he’d gotten on this case. He hated that he was analytical enough to hear pain and think good, but that was his job, sorting through heartache for reason. Although the law was a codified set of rules, justice was far from set in stone. In court, there was always room for ambiguity, for emotion, for sympathy. “Tell me what happened, Keith. Minute by minute. ”

Keith stared dully at the wall. Michael saw that blank look come back into the young man’s eyes.

“She wanted to go to Pike Place. I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn’t know why, I couldn’t say why. And you know, I love … loved Emily and we did what she wanted, especially after I got back from Iraq. ”

“Why then specifically?”

“I was hard to live with. I was constantly having to make shit up to her. Anyway, we went to the market. ” He paused so long Michael was about to prompt an answer when Keith started talking again. “It was sunny that day. The market was crowded. Piano players, jugglers, magicians, fish throwers, bums. You couldn’t walk a foot without someone bumping into you or running out in front of you or trying to sell you something. ”

He looked down at his shaking hands. “I started to get edgy, tight. So I had a straight shot of tequila at the Athenian, but it wasn’t enough to calm me down. I got so jumpy. I get jumpy a lot lately. That day, every movement startled me, got my heart pumping—and there were a lot of movements. I kept thinking people were after me. So, while Emily was picking out flowers, I zipped back into the Athenian, and had a few more shots. ”