No, just a convicted murderer.
She winced. She wasn’t a fool. Even though she had discovered all she could about North Callaghan and his crime, she knew living next door to him wasn’t an ideal situation. Her brother or father could not find out. They’d have a U-Haul in front of her house before she could blink.
She didn’t want to move. She wasn’t going to.
North Callaghan had been convicted of killing his cousin’s alleged rapist. Alleged was a kind characterization. All the media she uncovered did not paint a favorable picture of Mason Leary. He and his family had waged a strong campaign to prove his innocence, hiring fancy lawyers out of Lubbock, but she’d read Katie Callaghan’s testimony and the testimony of the doctor who attended her when she was admitted into the hospital. No female would want to be hurt in that manner.
Everything she’d unearthed pointed to the fact that North and his older brother inadvertently killed the young man, beating him in an attempt to get his admission of guilt. North had been eighteen years old at the time. His brother not much older. Their actions weren’t right. She wasn’t condoning them, but she could see how something like that could happen.
The fact remained: she did not believe herself at risk from her neighbor. Her ears might throb from the sounds drifting from the other side of her bedroom wall, and she might feel stabs of annoyance when his motorcycle crept onto her side of the driveway, but that wasn’t reason enough for her to sell her new house and move. He’d served his time and was entitled to a place to live. Wasn’t that how the system worked?
She moved through the rest of her day in a fog, making calls and filling out paperwork as her mind churned over this new development.
She took a late lunch outside on one of the benches in front of her building, not even tasting the ham-and-cheese croissant sandwich she had packed. The birds found her. They always did. She broke up bits of the bread from her sandwich and tossed them out for them.
She snorted at the image she must make, a single woman tossing food for the pigeons. The only thing missing was a shawl and an old-lady hat. She needed to get out more. Maybe if she was socializing more, making new friends and dating, she wouldn’t care so much about one neighbor, felon or not.
She straightened her spine and reminded herself that she had a date coming up. Maybe things would start looking up and changing then.
“Hey, Faith,” Wendy called on her way inside the building. “Drinks tonight at Willie’s! Flor and I are going. They’ve got a hot new bartender. Something nice to look at as we drink our margaritas. You in?”
She hesitated, chewing and swallowing her bite. “Sure,” she called out. It beat going home and staring at her walls.
“Thata girl! See you inside. Staff meeting in thirty.”
Faith smiled slightly as her friend disappeared inside the building. She finished the last bite of her croissant sandwich and dusted off her hands, then headed into the building. She just had to make it until Saturday.
She felt relaxed by the time she got home from Willie’s. She wasn’t much of a drinker and since she had been driving, she hadn’t overindulged. She wasn’t about to pull a Serena move, but one mango margarita was enough to put her in a more relaxed state. Additionally, Wendy and Flor had kept her in stitches. Hard to be tense when you couldn’t stop laughing. Flor, twice the bartender’s age and mother of three, had flirted shamelessly with the younger man. She was inspiring. Faith needed half that woman’s confidence.
North Callaghan’s bike was missing from the driveway. At least she wouldn’t hear him having sex again. She snorted at that.
She entered her house and dropped her things on the table. After kicking off her shoes, she moved into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine. She was home now. Not driving anywhere. She might as well continue with her state of relaxation.
After changing into shorts and a supersoft T-shirt, she took her glass of wine and dropped down on her couch, where she channel surfed until she landed on a rerun of The Big Bang Theory.
During her second glass of cab, she decided dessert was in order. She’d shared some wings and nachos at Willie’s with the girls, but there was always room for something sweet. Grabbing an ice cream sandwich out of the freezer, she settled back on the couch for an episode of Cupcake Wars.
A bike growled outside. Faith jumped up, holding her wine glass out in front of her so that the liquid didn’t slosh over the rim. She hurtled herself to the door and pressed her eye against the peephole. Sure enough, there he was. She glimpsed the large dark outline of him through her window before he passed out of range. The door clicked shut.