Chapter 24: The Next Man Out

The prison gate would open at six on a Tuesday morning in December, and this time somebody was waiting.

Cal parked the truck on the verge across from it at ten to five.

The paint on the door still said *Bracken Auto* in fresh gold letters.

The old boss had sold him the shop in October for one dollar and a handshake, and gone fishing.

"I retired," he had said, "to see what you'd do with it."

Kira sat beside him with a flask of coffee between her knees and her cane hooked over the dashboard.

In the back seat Joan was wrapped in two blankets and a hat she had knitted herself, with a folded newspaper in her lap.

"If he doesn't come out at six, I'm going in there," she said.

"He'll come out at six, Mom."

"Don't argue with a woman holding a hat."

Kira hid a smile behind the flask.

Joan unfolded the newspaper in her lap.

"Page six," she said. "Gerald Ridgway, six counts, state court. Preston, ten years."

"Mom, we've read it."

"I'm reading it again. At my age you take your pleasure where it's parked."

Lena's name was on page nine.

Cal did not ask her to turn to it.

He found he didn't mind.

"Gerald's lawyers called again," Kira said. "They want to settle the civil suit for pennies."

"Tell them no."

"I told them no on Monday. I told them again on Tuesday, louder."

"She's learning," Joan said.

"I had a good teacher," said Kira.

Joan snorted and pulled the hat down over her ears, pleased.

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