"I doubt it. This changes a few things, but it doesnt change the fact that they dont have much of a case against you."

"What about your sister? I never even talked to her."

"Thats what I thought," I said. "You have to trust me. Ill figure something out. I just need a little time to think."

After the guards took her away, I sat at the table alone, unable to get up and walk out. The door buzzed twice, but I just sat there. I couldnt move.

In my mind, I kept seeing a beautiful, fragile young girl, naively walking up the steps in the rain to a motel room. Shes accompanied by a man more than twice her size, twice her age. She closes the door and offers the man a drink from a bottle. He takes the bottle from her hand, sets it down, and punches her viciously in the side of the face. She sees a bright light and falls backwards onto the bed, dazed by the blow.

The giant hovers over her, his drunken breathing foul and labored. He grabs the girl and rolls her like a rag doll. Hes muttering, alternately calling her a slut and praising God for the opportunity to exact some righteous vengeance on a lowly whore. He rips off her panties. Hes excited but too drunk to maintain an erection. He tries to force himself inside her rectum, but shes small. He spits on his hand to lubricate her and tries again. Shes struggling but hes much too strong.

He slaps the back of her head and tells her to hold still. He gets inside her and grunts with satisfaction.

The girl goes limp. Beads of sweat drop from the giants nose onto the girls backside. He isnt performing the way he wants, and he notices the bottle of scotch she offered him earlier. He shoves the girl down flat against the mattress and steps over to the bottle. He takes a long drink while the girl whimpers on the bed.

I hear Sarahs voice. . . . "Get him off of me, Joey.

Hes hurting me ."

When I was finally able to move, I pushed the button, waited for the door to buzz, and made my way slowly down the maze of hallways and steel gates. What Angel had described to me was a voluntary manslaughter, at worst. A Class C felony, maximum sentence of six years. But I couldnt bring myself to recommend to her that we go to the district attorney and tell him what had happened. I couldnt see her spending time in prison for retaliating against a man who had violated her in the most shameful of ways.

As far as I was concerned, the hypocritical sonofabitch got what he deserved.

July 24 6:05 p.m.

I drove straight home from the jail with Sarahs voice and Angels confession alternately ringing in my ears. As soon as I got out of my truck, Rio peed on me, and instead of laughing or gently pushing him away like always, I drew my foot back to kick the shit out of him. I caught myself, but barely. For some reason, the thought of the dog pissing on me right then made me mad enough to want to hurt him. I swore at him and stepped over him as he cowered in the driveway.

I walked into the kitchen. Caroline was standing over the stove. I could smell broccoli. I hate broccoli.

"Hi, honey," she said. "I heard they recessed the trial. Whats going on?"

"Im going to wring that fucking dogs neck."

"I guess it isnt good."

"Im sick of him pissing all over me. Im sick of everybody pissing all over me."

"Whats going on, Joe?"

"Nothing." I marched through the kitchen and into the bedroom to change my clothes. I could feel pressure, a lot of pressure, at each of my temples, and my field of vision was narrowing. I felt a hand on my shoulder, a touch that usually comforted me. It didnt.

"Whats wrong, Joe? Talk to me."

"It would probably be best if youd just leave me alone right now."

"Leave you alone? Why? What have I done?"

"Nothing," I said. "Thats part of the problem."

Id spent part of the drive home working up a healthy anger towards Caroline. I had to provide for her, which meant I had to keep working. But I was sick of busting my ass for people who neither deserved it nor appreciated it, sick of people using me and lying to me, sick of worrying about whether what I was doing was right or wrong. I was sick of everything.

"Im not the bad guy, baby. I love you, remember?" she said.

"A lot of fucking good it does."

"Youve been under a lot of strain. How about a hot bath?"

"I dont want to take a goddamned bath. Now why dont you do what I asked you to do and leave me the fuck alone?"

"How dare you talk to me like that!" Caroline said.

"I know you hate your job. I know you hate yourself sometimes, but that doesnt mean you get to take it out on me. I havent done a thing other than love you and try to help you through a difficult time, and Im not going to stand here and listen to you degrade me. Im not your whipping girl, Joe! "

All I could feel was the pressure in my head. I was losing it. I pushed past her and walked back into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She was right behind me.

I headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

"Out," I said. "Im going out."

And thats what I did. I drove to a bar in Johnson City called Fritters. I sat alone at the bar and drank vodka for a while. Then I asked for a shot of Ja germeister. Then another. I was there for hours.

It was raining when I left the bar, but I didnt give a shit. Id convinced myself that I had somewhere I needed to go. I drove across town, holding a hand over my right eye to keep from seeing double. I pulled through the gate at the Veterans Administration campus. I turned into the cemetery towards the long rows of white grave markers and made my way slowly, drunkenly, to the section where my father was buried. I got out of the car and stumbled through the rain until I found him.

Then I lay down on his grave and passed out.

I dreamed I was lying in a thicket, above a path in the Grenada jungle. I had somehow become separated from my squad. My face was covered in camouflage paint, and I was aiming a machine gun at the path. A group of six Cuban soldiers was moving towards me. Id set out claymore mines in a ditch beside the path and concealed the wires carefully.

The point man moved into the kill zone. All that remained was for the rest of the group to get within range of the claymores. Once they were there, Id open fire. When they hid in the ditch, Id hit the clackers and detonate the mines. It would be a perfect massacre.

The last man moved in, and I started blasting away with the M60. I sprayed them with short bursts. The Cubans melted into the ditch line. I detonated the mines, and the earth shuddered. The Cuban guns went silent, and I moved in to mop up.

I heard the sucking sound of a chest wound coming from the point man. He was lying on his stomach in the ditch; his left arm lay severed two feet away.

I stuck my boot in his ribs and rolled him. He flopped onto his back, and I found myself staring into the bloodied face of a kid. He couldnt have been more than sixteen years old, and he looked just like me.

I began to scream.

July 25 1:00 a.m.

Jerry Byrd found me out there in the rain. Jerry was a VA cop and army veteran Id known for fifteen years. His wife had gone to my high school and his son had played ball with Jack. We had a good deal in common and wed had some good times together over the years.

When Jerry woke me up, I had absolutely no idea where I was or how I got there. It was pouring rain and my teeth were chattering. He helped me to my feet and took me by the arm.

"Joe, what in the hell are you doing out here?"

"No clue."

Jerry used his cell phone to call Caroline. He told her where I was and that we could pick up my truck the next day. Then he drove me home.

"Whats going on?" Caroline said after Jerry had left. Id managed to down two cups of black coffee strong enough to make my tongue curl. I could tell shed been crying, but I hoped she wouldnt start up again. I felt bad enough as it was. "Ive been worried sick about you."

"Im sorry," I said. "I had a little meltdown."

Id always kept Caroline at least a stones throw from the worst of my work and my past. It was ugly and frightening, and Caroline was beautiful and kind. I was afraid Id somehow contaminate her if I told her the truth, but more than that, I was afraid she might begin to think of me as weak and flawed.

"Talk to me," she said. "Please."

"You dont want me to. Believe me, youre better off if I keep it to myself."

"Joe, do you really think anything you tell me would make me love you any less?"

There was a long silence. She poured more coffee.

I sat there sipping it slowly, trying to decide whether I wanted to tell my wife that for all these years, despite all the macho bravado, shed really been married to a scared little boy trying to prove to himself he wasnt a coward.

"I dont think I can tell you," I said.

"Does it have anything to do with this case?"

"Thats part of it. It looks like theyre going to arrest Erlene Barlowe for Testers murder." I was grateful for the opportunity to move the topic of conversation away from me.

"Do you think she killed Tester?"

"I know she didnt kill Tester."

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"How?"

I looked at her, deadpan. I couldnt tell her, but Caroline is an intelligent woman. I saw the look come over her face. She got it.

"Angel told you she killed him?"

I nodded.

"And now youre trying to decide what to do?"

"Im just trying to survive right now. You know Im going to have to go after Sarah on the witness stand if the trial starts back up. I cant tell you how much I dread it."

"Why is she doing this, Joe? Whats wrong with her?"

"Do you really want to know? Its not something youre going to enjoy hearing about."

"Of course I want to know. I think Ive earned the right."

She had. Shed earned the right to hear about all of it. I looked at her and thought about Ma, about the regret Id felt because she wouldnt let me into her heart, and about the emptiness I felt because Id never let her into mine. I thought about the nightmares, the anxiety, the depression, the nagging feeling that I was a pathetic coward. I looked at Caroline, saw the longing in her eyes, and knew I couldnt shut my wife out any longer. I couldnt be like my mother. It was time. It was time to open up.

I told Caroline about what Tester had done to Angel and what Uncle Raymond had done to Sarah.

When she heard what had happened to Sarah, Caroline scooted next to me and held me in her arms. As I felt her breath against my skin and smelled her familiar smell, I suddenly didnt care whether she thought I was weak, because at that moment, I was.

I needed to lean on the only person Id ever really trusted. For the first time in my life, I gave myself completely. There were moments I cried so hard I couldnt breathe. I was ashamed and reluctant at first, but once I started, I couldnt stop. After twenty years, I finally let Caroline all the way in.

I talked about the frustration of being raised without a father. I told her about the brutal things Id done and seen in Grenada. I told her about Billy Dockery. I told her about Maynard Bush and Bonnie Tate and how I felt the day the Bowers twins died in the sunshine. I told her how I felt about my mother. I talked deep into the morning. Id never experienced anything like it, but when it was over, I understood the power of confession.

"Do you know something?" Caroline said when I was finally too exhausted to talk anymore. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

"If I was on trial, if I was in the same situation as Angel, theres nobody in this world Id rather have on my side than you. Do you know why?"

"Im sorry for the things I said when I came home earlier. I feel like a jackass. And Im sorry""

"Hush. Do you know why theres nobody in this world Id rather have on my side than you?"

"No. Why?"

"Because youre a good man, Joe. Its as simple as that. Thats why I married you and why Ive loved you for all these years. Thats why your children adore you. Its why youve stuck by Sarah all this time and why you went up there and sat with your mother. Its why youve spent your life trying to help people. I hope youre always just like you are now."

Her words humbled me. I didnt know what to say.

"When did Angel tell you what really happened?"

she said.

"Not long before I came home."

"Thats what I thought. Thats what set this off. It put you back in that house with your sister. When you add it to everything else thats been going on with you lately, it isnt surprising. Im just glad you didnt hurt yourself."

So was I.

"Youre going to get through this," Caroline said.

"Youre a survivor. Youre the strongest man Ive ever met."

Caroline got up and walked over to the door that led to the garage. She opened it.

"And heres someone else that loves you," she said.

Rio trotted into the room, saw me, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Come here, big boy," I said. His ears perked and his tail began to wag. "Come over here and take a leak on my shoe."

July 25 11:00 a.m.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, I slept well. There were no ambushes in the jungle to haunt me, no rapes or murders, no raging rivers or deadly waterfalls.