Justice(38)
“I know, and I will. I promise.”
“Good.” She takes a generous sip of her coffee and pulls out her notepad. “So. Is the GFPD any closer to catching Alkaline?”
“On the record, we’re pursuing multiple leads and are confident we’ll apprehend him within days. Last night’s arrest and confiscation of counterfeit IDs have opened up many new avenues of investigation.” We both roll our eyes, but she writes this quote down. “Off the record, it took us a decade to get any dirt on him and catch him, and that’s only because we lucked out with Grace Pickering. We have no idea where he is, what he’s up to, or how he even escaped. It’s going to take him fucking up or blind luck to snag him this time, and my money’s on neither. He’s smarter than us, and we all know it. We’re royally screwed.”
“God, I wish I could print that,” V says. “So, nothing? You guys have found jack?” I fill her in on the documents guy, Munoz, but leave out the meeting with Justice. Mention his name to any reporter, and the article becomes a loving tribute to the man.”Well, that’s something,” she says, jotting it all down. “Do you think it means he’s still in town?”
“I cannot speculate at this time,” I say in a monotone. “Off the record, he is so still here. He’s been planning something, probably since he went in. What, I have no clue.”
“Come on, Jo. Give me something new here. Has he tried to contact Pickering? Who helped him escape? Something!”
I do owe her. “Okay, but this didn’t come from me. Just write it came from someone close to the investigation. You can run with it or not.”
“What is it?”
“When we entered Alkaline’s cell, it was covered with pictures and articles about Justice. Like every inch of his cell. He’s obsessed with the man. And that’s all I’m saying.”
“I’ll need confirmation on that,” she says.
“Call the lab. I think the count was one hundred twenty-one different clippings. But you didn’t hear it from me.” I finish my coffee. “I should get back to work.”
“Okay,” V says.
I stand up. “You don’t, by any slim chance, want to be my date to the engagement party tomorrow night, do you? Free food, booze, rich men?”
“You don’t have a date?”
“Of course not. I’m a loser.” She doesn’t know about Harry. I’ve wanted to tell her a dozen times, but I know she wouldn’t approve. Yeah, that’s the reason and I’m sticking to it.
“I think I’m going to pass. Like you should.”
“I’m the best man,” I say with an uncomfortable smile. “I have a speech to make and all. About their love, God help me. They’ll be crushed if I don’t. I think I should start drinking right now.”
“Maybe good old Alkaline will pop up and give you an excuse, you never know.”
“I’m not that lucky.”
“It’ll be fine.” She stands up too and air kisses my cheeks. “Remember: you’re getting a friend, not losing one.”
“‘Ask Mary’ needs to find a new trade,” I say.
“‘Ask Mary’ is a fifty year old man named Duke. He used to write obituaries.”
“It shows.” I hug my cousin. “Bye.”
As I get outside and start toward the subway, I do something I try never to do: think. It always leads to problems, followed by depression, followed by drinking, ending with a hangover. So thinking actually hurts me. But that ever stopped me from doing anything. V inherited the common sense in the family. Per usual, she’s right. I need to adapt, grow. Come to terms with the state of things.
Rebecca is not going away. He loves her, and she him. There is nothing I can do about that. He doesn’t love me, not in the way I want him to. He never will. That wouldn’t be different even if he had never met Rebecca. It’s been twenty goddamn years, why can’t this fact just sink in?
So, I have a choice to make. I can be happy, truly happy for my friend that he found such a warm, giving woman to love, and who loves him back. I can share in their joy and embrace her as a new friend. Though this time, I’ll actually mean it. Slay that green-eyed monster that stands in my way. Or I do what V has suggested for years. I walk away. I don’t answer his phone calls, I don’t go where he will be, and if I see him I walk the other way. I cut him out of my life. But that would be akin to cutting out my own heart. I couldn’t live. I just couldn’t. I need him. Me, who everyone thinks needs nothing and no one. Guess I’ve made my choice. I’ll carry on as I always have, with my head held high and smile on my face, even though inside I’m sobbing. Good thing I’ve had a lifetime of practice.