Carolyn would have told him he was kidding himself, but it wasn’t true. He was grappling with his so-called drinking problem and he was doing his best. How much more did she expect? He wanted a drink. He admitted it, especially now with this other business coming to the fore. The subject was like a cracked tooth he kept feeling with his tongue to see if the fissure had progressed.

He checked his watch. Half an hour yet. All he could think about was how burdened he was. Over the years guilt had chafed at him, and now his only relief occurred during that magic moment when a drink went down and the warmth spread through his chest, untying the knots, loosening the noose around his neck. He was losing his capacity to tolerate the weight of anxiety that dogged him from day to day. How would he grow old with such a canker in his soul?

An eternity later, the meeting ended and the room emptied with a clatter of chairs being folded and stacked against the wall. He felt a touch on his arm that made him jump.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He turned. Avis Jent stood close by, in a spiky blaze of dark red hair, the scent of whiskey pouring off her skin. Shit, he thought, had she come to the meeting drunk? His right arm was still in a sling so he didn’t make a move to shake hands.

Her eyes widened at the sight of his face. “Oh, I love that blend of purple and yellow. The black eyes make you look like a raccoon. You got yourself banged up good.”

“I take it you heard about the accident.”

“Me and everyone else. The whole of Horton Ravine is abuzz.”

“Thanks. I’m feeling so much better for having talked to you.” Walker hadn’t seen Avis since their chance encounter on Via Juliana, that nightmare of patrol cars, police personnel, and rumors of a dead child. He hadn’t read a word in the paper about the incident, unless an article had appeared while he was in St. Terry’s and out of commission.

Avis wasn’t looking good. He’d once thought her attractive, but the fluorescent lighting didn’t do her any favors. In her current state of inebriation, her eyes were out of focus and her loose-limbed swaying was such that he had to put a hand out to steady her.

She said, “Whoa.”

“I hope you didn’t drive over here in this condition.”

“I came by cab. My license was permanently yanked. What a drag,” she said. “And you?”

“I have a kid who squires me around town.”

“Lucky you. How many meetings? Is this your first?”

“Third.”

She smiled. “Clever move. Paying lip service so you’ll look good when your case goes to trial. I’ve done the same thing myself.”