He spent Saturday morning enlarging the corral, but, by noon, the heat had become unbearable, so he jumped in the truck for his afternoon's errand.
He found her-Vic-in her favorite speed trap location, watching her until she finished writing a ticket and released the driver before pulling up behind her, leaving her plenty of space to move, should she want to.
"Hello, Vic."
"What do you want?" she said sharply, but gasped at the sight of her former colleague. He stood with his hands clasped behind him-prison style.
His eyes, always intense, were vacant and unfocused, and his voice was flat, lifeless. "The statute of limitations runs out this week."
"On what?" Her voice was slightly less sharp, but she still kept her hand on her weapon.
He felt his left arm begin to tremble-a side effect of the medicine and the heat, too-and worked to steady it with his right hand. "When I assaulted you."
"And you're here to remind me? Are you insane?" Immediately, she wished to pull back the words.
He chuckled, but his face remained expressionless. "Depends upon whom you ask."
"Why are you here, Branch? Are you asking me not to file charges against you?"
"No," his arm had quieted, but now he was swaying slightly. "I couldn't blame you if you did. I just need to put some things behind me. To move on."
She stared at him.
"Anyway, I wanted you to know." He walked back to his truck, hand on the handle, as her door swung open. He stiffened, wondering what was next.
"Are you high?" She challenged from about 10 feet away, her hand on her weapon.
He hung his head for a moment, then turned to lean against the truck, hands out in plain view. Carefully, he removed a bracelet from his left wrist and left it on the hood of the truck while he moved toward the rear, hands still in view. She inched forward, glancing at the bracelet before tossing it back to him. It fell through his hands.
"That's some serious shit you're on. Does it do any good?"
He picked the bracelet from the ground, dusting it off slowly. "Some."
"You're getting help?" The length of his truck was between them.
"Yeah."
She backed away and motioned for him to get into his truck. He fumbled with the seat belt, then waited while it ground to life. She tapped on the window. "As long as you're getting help, I'm not pressing charges, Branch."
He released a pent-up breath. "Thanks, Vic. And I'm sorry."
She watched him pull away, cautiously, carefully. "So am I, Branch. So am I."