Free One to Go by Mike Pace Page A

fridge.
    â€œDon’t think I’m supposed to be drinkin’,” said Gino.
    â€œOne beer.” Tom set the can of Bud in front of Gino and wondered why his former brother-in-law didn’t comment on his shaking hand. Gino popped the top and took a long sip.
    â€œWhat the hell am I gonna do?” asked Gino, dropping his head into his hands.
    Tom cleared his voice. He needed to sound as normal as possible.
Normal. What a joke
. “You killed her, even though you know you didn’t mean it. I’m afraid you’re going to be sent away for a long time. Maybe the rest of your life.”
    â€œIf I go to jail, what’ll happen to Angie?”
    â€œI swear to you that Gayle, Dave, and I will take care of her as if she were our own daughter.”
    Okay, what he was about to say next would be the first step down the road to hell.
Road to hell. Funny
. But couldn’t he simplybring the girls back inside, partner up with Mr. Ruger, and watch over them till after the clock struck midnight? And what were the chances absolutely nothing would happen?
    The chances
. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Could he really take the chance his daughter would die within the next few minutes?”
No
. He took a deep breath.
    â€œGino, I think it would be helpful for you to write a note to Angie. You know, something she can keep with her always.”
    â€œProbably should. Maybe tomorrow—”
    â€œYou could do it tomorrow, but why not now? I’ll give it to her tonight. Think it’ll make her feel better.”
    â€œGuess you’re right.” He nodded at a cabinet drawer. “Rosie keeps a pad and pen in there.”
    Tom walked to the cabinet, which fortunately was behind Gino. He pulled a pair of transparent latex gloves from his coat pocket and tried to slip them on, but his hands were shaking so badly it took twice as long.
    â€œI know my life’s over, Tom. Rosie’s gone. And I’m going away for a long time. Got a nice insurance policy. Was thinking—”
    â€œProbably feel the same way in your shoes.”
Jesus, did he really just say that?
    Tom retrieved the pad and paper, then pivoted and quickly set both items down on the table. Gino was so lost in thought that he never noticed Tom’s hands.
    The big man stared at the blank tablet. “Don’t know what to say.”
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be long, just say what you feel. How sorry you are, ask for forgiveness, you know, that kind of stuff.”
    Gino picked up the pen and began to write. Tom watched over his shoulder.
    Dear Angie, I’m so sorry for what I did. I loved your mommy very much. My heart breaks for you. Please forgive me
.
    â€œGuess I should say I’ll see her tomorrow.”
    Tom pulled the Ruger from his jacket pocket.
    Gino looked up, startled. “What’s goin’ on? That looks like my gun.”
    Tom had rehearsed in his mind what he would say, and the words rushed out. “You’re right. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison. You’re going to die there. You want Angie to see you like that? Remember you like that?”
    Tom looked at the clock.
Four minutes
.
    â€œShe’s going to need money for college and a wedding. I know you want her to have a nice wedding someday. Gayle and I will do what we can, but college is so expensive. You said you have a life insurance policy.”
    Three minutes
.
    Gino stared at the gun. Tears poured from his eyes. He whispered, “You think I’ll go to heaven?”
    How was he supposed to answer that one?
Sorry, Charlie, but you’re headin’ south
. In the great scheme of things, lying seemed so inconsequential.
    â€œGod knows you didn’t mean to kill Rosie. I’m sure He will forgive you and allow you to enter His kingdom.” He could barely get the words out. The acid in his stomach had refluxed up into his esophagus, setting it on fire. He needed