I refocus on the SUV and the man getting out of it. Johnny Adair steps out first, and the dulled headache from earlier transforms into shards of pain between my ears. He unfolds from the car, and I understand why they needed an SUV to get him here.
“Jesus Christ,” a man in front of me says.
Johnny Adair is huge, even taller than Carl. Much taller than I remember him being. Each arm is bigger than one of my legs. A tight long-sleeve shirt shows every muscle, and over that sits a bulletproof vest that looks as if it were made for a child compared to his broad chest. His neck looks like the trunk of one of the pines out here. His head and his face are clean shaven.
The bulletproof vest is interesting. I wonder if it’s a gimmick his lawyer came up with or if he’s received actual threats. I wish I could convince myself that Johnny was no longer a threat. But any chance I had of doing that evaporated as soon as he stepped out of that car. I was expecting a shriveled-up man defeated by prison. Nothing about this man looks defeated.
I swallow and catch myself backing up a step on legs that now feel made of liquid, my heart pounding so hard I’ve probably fooled my fitness watch into thinking I’m running. Then Johnny’s advocate from the Innocence Project steps out, and the spike in my heart rate hits a new level. My jaw tightens to the point I may chip a tooth.
The man is wearing a modest suit similar to the one he was wearing at the lobby bar of the Kingston Hotel last night. The one I helped him take off in his hotel room.
Mother—
Chapter Twenty
Piedmont, Louisiana
Saturday, February 16, 2019
10:30 a.m. CST
I stop myself from yelling out an expletive on the spot as Grant walks toward the podium. Grant who texted me this morning he had to leave town for a bit. He had to have known who I was last night. No way I’m letting him know I didn’t catch whohewas. I scold myself for such a rookie move. I should have known Johnny Adair would have a liaison of some type to help him reacclimate into society, and I should have known that man’s name.
Even though I’m hiding in the back and wearing a hat, Grant’s eyes still connect with mine as he scans the crowd. I catch the look of shock on his face, but not a muscle in my face moves. Next Emmy I’m rumored to be getting could be for acting. And I’m glad to have Grant to focus on because he’s not the only one staring at me. Johnny Adair gives me a look of pure hatred, and I hold my tote tighter to my side, wondering if the stun gun I carry is really enough to protect me.
They walk to the podium, and Grant speaks first. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Grant Greene. Thank you for coming out today. I’m here with my client and friend, Johnny Adair. As you know, Mr. Adair has recently been exonerated of the charges against him in regards to the disappearance and murder of Heather Hadwick.” A fewpeople in the crowd murmur and shift. “Mr. Adair is here to make a statement only. He will not be accepting any questions. If you would like more information, you can contact me or his attorney.”
I watch the police and sheriff watching the crowd. Two officers start walking around the periphery as Johnny steps up to the microphones attached to the podium. Cameras are focused on him, and he’s wiping his hands on the sides of his gray slacks. I can see sweat stains on his white button-up shirt that looks two sizes too small. Even though the temperature is hovering only in the mid-forties, Johnny looks hot and nervous. He looks to Grant, who nods.
“Hello.”
His voice kicks up my adrenaline. I hear his voice from years ago, yelling as Kat, Summer, and I were running for the trail to the lake.What are you girls doing out here?I glance over to Summer and Kat. Summer has gone pale. Katrina has sunglasses on now, so I can’t see her expression, but her body is stiff and unmoving. Neither of them looks in my direction.
“I want to set the record straight,” Johnny says. “I am innocent. I served seventeen years in prison for a crime I did not commit. The men who sent me there wanted to believe I was guilty because that would be a lot easier than the truth.” The crowd is silent. No more murmuring or shuffling feet. “The confession ... was a mistake. I was scared and sleep deprived. And they kept telling me if I admitted to it, they’d let me leave the room.”
A woman next to me covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. Another says, “Poor man.”
“So I told them whatever it took to get out of that room. I didn’t understand when I left the room, I’d be going to a cell,” Johnny says. “And they used it against me. Even when they knew the truth.”
His voice cracks. He shifts on his feet, and I wonder about that last statement, what truth he’s speaking of and if it relates to Crowley.
Grant nods at him again. “I’ve made mistakes,” he says, then pauses. He takes a breath. “But I didn’t deserve to be punished for a crime Ididn’t commit.” He shakes his head but doesn’t finish the thought. Instead I catch him glancing at Summer and Kat. Then he looks at me.
I try to keep my shoulders square even though I want to shrink back into the crowd. This is not a feeling I’m familiar with at news conferences. But then again, I’ve never been to one that involved me.
Finally Johnny speaks again. “I just want to be left alone.”
I get the feeling Johnny had planned to say more but, for whatever reason, stopped.
Grant, to his credit, stays stoic. If this is a curveball, he’s not showing it.
“I ask for privacy for me and for my sister,” he adds. His eyes dart to his left, and I follow his gaze. There are several women standing on the same side as Kat and Summer. I scan their faces and stop on one that looks familiar. She’s wearing faded jeans and a purple NSU sweatshirt. Hello, Rosalie.
Another group of ladies catches my eye. One of them looks familiar. Grace from the hospital. She smiles as we make eye contact; then she waves. Terrific. Nurse Grace is going to have a lot to talk about with the flock of ladies hovering around her.
“What truth are you referring to, Johnny?” a reporter yells, and I snap back to the podium. It’s Erin.
Ballsy, Erin, I think. None of the other reporters follow up. She’s on an island and has Johnny’s full attention, but it’s Grant who steps in and answers.
