Whereas snow globes were for Mensa members. “My work at FastTrak does not leave me a great deal of spare time.”

“Yeah.” Harvey shifted around so he could look at the file on the table before him. “I can believe that. Your supervisor thinks you walk on water, you know. He’s very impressed. Thinks you’re going to be considered for promotion again in no time at all.”

“I’m glad that he is pleased.”

“I’ll bet you are.” Harvey winked. “Wouldn’t mind having a few more bucks in the basket, huh?”

Aravena tried to smile. What an utter boob this man was. And the State of Oklahoma had required him to visit this cretin once a week, ever since his release. As if any possible good could come from it. At least Dr. Bennett was a doctor. This man was nothing. A fool. A total waste of time.

But, he consoled himself-a waste of time who would soon be out of his life for good.

“So, you feelin’ all right, Gabe?”

“I am well.”

Harvey nodded. “Medication still working for you?”

“Of course.” At least he wasn’t asking about erections and ejaculations. Not in so many words.

“Must be a hell of a thing. I mean the… the… you know.” He waved his hands around his chest. “Do they itch?”

That again. Why did the whole world obsess over his breasts? “They did. I now… bind them. Both for comfort and for appearances.”

“I expect that would draw a lot of attention at the FastTrak.” He drummed his fingers on the table. Aravena could tell there was something he wanted to say. “You know, Gabe, what you did…” He drew in his breath. “We haven’t really talked much about your crime. I didn’t see the point. I assumed you preferred it that way. But I have to ask. Before I give you the final check mark. Do you think you might ever… you know… have any… feelings like that again?”

“Absolutely not,” Aravena said. He tried to wear that confident, square-jawed look he knew would impress this buffoon. “I no longer have any sexual feelings.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“ ’Cause you know, it’s still possible.”

“I no longer have any such feelings… as I once did. I know I never will. That is all in the past.”

Harvey peered into his eyes for a moment, then slowly nodded. “You know what, Gabe? I believe you. I really do. I’m going to okay your release from supervision.” He began scribbling on a form in his file.

Aravena tried to suppress his elation, but it took some doing. It was finally going to happen! No more tether. No more visits to the shrink. No more injections. No more endless stories from this fool. No more unexpected visits to his apartment. Freedom. Total and utter freedom. To do whatever he wanted. Whenever he wanted.

Harvey slid the form across the table, grinning. “Congratulations, Gabe. You’ve passed.”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”

“Of course, you’re still expected to take the medication.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” If the man would believe that, he’d believe anything.

“And I’d still like to drop by to visit. Just every now and again. On an informal basis. To see how you’re doing.”

“I would be honored.” I will move. I will change the locks.

“One other thing, Gabe. I hate to mention it, but… you know, we’re supposed to register former sex offenders. Once they’re released from custody.”

“What do you do?”

“Oh, some of the boys in the department go door-to-door to inform the neighbors. Just so they won’t be blamed later if something should happen.”

“If the police go door-to-door to inform all my neighbors… then I won’t have any neighbors.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” He pondered a moment, then made a few pencil scribbles on his file. “You know, Gabe, I’m going to forget to forward this information to the law enforcement boys. I just don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It could do you a lot of harm. And no good at all. None that I see, anyway.” He fell silent a moment. “But this means I’m trusting you, Gabe. I believe you’ve changed. I really do.” He peered across the table, insisting on eye contact. “Don’t make me look like a fool, okay?”

“Of course not,” Aravena said. You do that for yourself so well already.

The two men rose and shook hands. “Thank you for everything you have done on my behalf all these years,” Aravena said. “I mean that sincerely.”

Harvey smiled. Aravena had a sense that he wished to embrace, but that wasn’t going to happen. There were limits to what even he would do.

As Aravena left his PA’s office and stepped out into the sunshine, it did indeed seem as if he had entered an entirely new world. A world filled with challenges. And possibilities. And there they were, all around him. The woman walking toward him on the sidewalk. That little piece of jailbait on the other side of the street…

He had regained his freedom, despite everything, despite every evil thing he had locked up in his heart. He had done his time and survived. But the best of it was-they had never learned the truth. They had no idea. The worst of it. They didn’t have a glimmer. If they knew what he had done…

But they didn’t. And now he was free.

He strolled toward the Tulsa Transit bus stop, a happy man. There were always so many women riding the bus. So many women crowded together in such a small space.

The world was filled with possibilities.

Ten minutes after the hearing was supposed to start, there was no one in the courtroom other than the principal players-the attorneys for both sides and the court bailiff. Somewhat ironic, Ben mused. Every time he tried a murder case, the courtroom was packed. People thought trials were exciting (even though, in the main, they weren’t), full of tricks and high drama and witness hysterics and Perry Mason-style manipulation-all leading up to that dramatic moment when the jury rendered the verdict. But no one ever came to see an appellate hearing. A bunch of lawyers talking? Who cared? But the truth was, what took place at these hearings was often more interesting-and more final-than anything that happened in a trial.

“Got your argument mapped out?” Christina asked. She was sitting beside him at counsel table, armed with three tall stacks of photocopied case law.

“I think so. I’m going to start with a few token citations to the precedents for granting habeas corpus relief.”

“All five of them, huh?”

“Right. But I won’t spend much time there, because I know the judge already knows all that. What I hope to make implicitly clear, as I discuss the result in each case, is that the federal courts have traditionally stepped in, on whatever grounds, when they believed there was serious doubt about the defendant’s guilt. And then I start laying down all the doubt.”

“Think it’ll work?”

“It might. If the judge is halfway reasonable, at the very least we should convince him to postpone the execution while we continue to investigate.”

“Are you going to use my second-man theory?”

He looked at her sternly. “Christina, we may be desperate, but we don’t have to act like it.”

From the other side of the courtroom, a heavyset man in a somewhat worn suit approached Ben. “Looks like we have some time on our hands.”

“Yeah. Any idea why?”

“Who knows? Federal judges do whatever they want.”

“I suppose.” Ben knew Jerry Weintraub from the days when he had interned at the DA’s office, before he moved to Tulsa. He was a big bear of a guy-always upbeat, impossible to dislike. He was representing the AG’s office in this hearing; the attorney general traditionally represented the state in criminal appeals.

“The problem is, these appointed-for-life federal judges all think they’re God. And it’s hard to keep God on a timetable.”

Ben half smiled. Jerry had always been one of his favorites, back in OKC, and he still was-even when he was on the other side. “I can’t believe you’re still with the AG’s office after all these years.”