Justice(58)

“Jo?” Harry asks behind me. I don’t turn around. I can’t look at him. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. He comes around, pulling one of the chairs with him, sitting down across from me. “Jo, look at me. Please.” He touches my hand, and I turn away from the pink house to my ex. He should hate me, I would, but there’s no malice in those blue eyes. He looks as sad as I feel. “Oh, Jo.”

“It was…” I can’t finish. I want to fall into his arms and cry, but after last night I’ve lost that privilege. So I don’t. I don’t even look at him. I gaze down at the stone. “Have you been in there?”

“Not yet. I wanted to check on you first.”

“Sir?”

We both turn around. One of the ME’s assistants, who has blood on her gloves, stands at the door. “Yes?” Harry asks.

“The ME’s asking for you.”

“Give me a minute.”

The woman walks back inside the house of horror. She’s going to poke and prod as if they were slabs of meat. Then they’ll be autopsied, cut apart and…God. “You better get in there. I’m okay, boss.”

“Do you need anything? Do you want me to call someone?”

“Uh, Justin’s out of town. I tried his cell, but it’s turned off. I left him a message. I don’t know when he’s supposed to be home. I don’t think Rebecca has anyone else. I don’t know. I should call Lucy, I guess. She might know.”

“I meant call someone for you. Your uncle? Veronica?”

“She’s probably out front with the rest of them. No, I’m fine. Go to work.”

He isn’t at all convinced, but he knows better than to press me. “Okay. I’m just inside if you need me.” He gets up and walks to the door.

“Harry?”

He spins around. “Yes?” I open my mouth to apologize, beg for forgiveness, but the words don’t come out. I shake my head. He smiles sympathetically. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Okay.”

He walks inside, leaving me as I should be. Alone. I just want to give my statement and leave. I would, but I can’t move. I have no place to go. I need to do something, anything. Justin. I have to think of Justin, he’s all that matters now. I pull out my phone and try his number again, then his assistant Shannon’s, but neither answer. Lucy does.

“Lucy Helms.”

“Lucy, it’s Joanna.”

“Oh,” she says, more than a little surprised. I’ve never called her before. I only have her number for reasons such as this. “Is everything alright?”

“Um, no. Not at all.” I pause, biting my lip. “I need to reach Justin right away, and he’s not answering. Do you have another number for him?”

“No. He’s probably on the plane.”

“He’s already on his way home? Do you know when he lands?”

“They’re just stopping here to refuel. He has to go to London next. Joanna, what is going on? Do you need help?” she asks, genuinely concerned for me.

“No,” I say, my voice quaking. “Um, it’s…um…, Rebecca’s dead. Daisy and Marnie too.”

There’s nothing but dead silence on the other end for a few seconds. “How?”

“They were murdered. It looks like it was Alkaline.”

Now there’s nothing but the sound of ragged breathing. “Are—are you sure?”

“I—I found them. It—it was him. No doubt.”

“Oh, Joanna,” she says, “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t know she was capable of pity. I’d be touched if I wasn’t trying so hard to remain numb. “Look, I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck here, but I think we should both be there to tell him. I’ll get away somehow.”

“Right. Of course. Just call me when you’re on your way.” She pauses for a moment. “Thank you for telling me, Joanna.”

“I’ll see you soon.” I hang up the phone and let out a shaky breath. She thanked me. Thanked me. Why would she do that? Why—

A camera peeks over the back fence followed by its owner, a skuzzy man I recognize as one of the paparazzi. Then another pops up next to him. “Detective Fallon! Detective Fallon! Is it true this is the work of Alkaline? Whose house is this?”

I can’t deal with them right now. Where there are two, there will be more. I’m a hot draw. I stand up and back into the house away from the shouting people.

The smell has almost dissipated with all the doors open. Forensic techs dust for prints on the front door and living room while others take pictures. For once I feel out of place at a crime scene, when I usually feel out of place everywhere else. I stand off to the side near the wall filled with pictures. I never look at the pictures of people at the scene, but now I can’t take my eyes off these. Rebecca and Daisy at the playground. Daisy in her christening gown. Rebecca as a beautiful teenager in front of a yellow VW beetle. Rebecca, an Indian woman, and Jem Ambrose from last night all smiling and hugging. Justin and Rebecca on the beach holding hands. Maybe I should go back outside.