No...
<p></p>It was one of those things, they tried to explain to him. The system was overwhelmed these days. It had to solve the core issue, which was getting the son-of-a-bitch who killed Stacy off the streets for good. He was half-dead anyhow, from shooting it out with the cops. It was just hard math coming down in the form of a budget and a court calendar. They could prove six different ways that Jiero had shot a cop in the head after he was down, and they still had no leads on where Stacy was presumably buried. There was no statute of limitations and no deals being made. If and when...</p><p>
</p><p>So that's why Jiero would not stand trial for Stacy's murder. Not yet, the prosecutor wanted to stress, like a bad car salesman with a gimmick.</p><p>
</p><p>He skipped the trial. What was the point? He was vaguely sorry for the cop's family, but the prosecutors wouldn't bring him into it at all, and why sit like a schmuck with the reporters and the law students and the sick freaks who watch murder trials for fun?</p><p>
</p><p>After the verdict came in, he just felt numb, and had too much to drink, remembering. He had been rightly angry, that was what hurt him, that if he had to do it all over again, he had to admit, he'd still have been mad. And she wouldn't see reason, so she'd probably get mad. It would probably have ended in a fight anyhow. </p><p>
</p><p>But Oh Sweet Christ, to end it with different words.</p><p>
</p><p>"See you later," he'd said from the car.</p><p>
</p><p>And her last words were, "I'll be here, won't I?" </p><p></p>