He tossed his own bag and wiped his fingers on another napkin. ‘Believe you me, I searched that scene for any evidence of wrongful death. We couldn’t come up with anything and according to the medical examiner, the drugs and the contusion were kind of a chicken and egg thing. We found her dealer and he confirmed she bought and shot alone, so my chief closed the case.’
I picked up Heather’s picture. ‘What do you think happened?’
‘Why, you know something about it?’ His voice changed; it became threaded with that universal flint edge handed out to every cop along with their gun and badge. My pulse reacted, but I smiled as I deliberately folded the paper and slipped it back in my backpack.
‘Back then I was still learning how to pick locks in Lincoln Park.’
He shook his head. ‘Well it’s probably good you ended up where you did . . . and lucky for Josiah Blackthorn he ended up wherever he did.’
‘Why do you say that?’
His lips thinned out. ‘Cops are pretty fair psychologists, too. I don’t know exactly what happened to Heather Price, but I do know Josiah Blackthorn was hiding something.’
The Cheetos had sucked all the moisture out of my mouth. Clearing my throat, I thanked Sergeant Coombe for his time and got up to go, but he stopped me, making me wait while he left his office – to do what? Get a tape recorder? Another officer? I wasn’t at liberty to reveal anything Lucas had told me, but maybe he could see it in my eyes. A body – Heather Price’s body – draped over Josiah’s shoulder. I checked my phone and thought about leaving before he could come back, but as I moved toward the door he appeared again, handing me a box that looked like it held files. I set it on the desk, lifting the lid.
‘That came up for disposal a while ago. I’m not sure why I had them keep it.’
Reaching in, I pulled out a plastic bag holding the agate, my mother’s agate, still crusted with remnants of dried blood. It felt lighter than I remembered, the colors less vivid, but still warm to the touch.
‘I’ve never given anyone back a murder weapon before.’
‘Don’t worry.’ I dried my eyes and put the bag in my backpack next to the picture of Heather Price. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’
17
Modern science says: ‘The sun is the past, the earth is
the present, the moon is the future.’ From an incandescent mass we have originated, and into a frozen mass we shall turn. Merciless is the law of nature, and rapidly and
irresistibly we are drawn to our doom.
- – Nikola Tesla
Josiah
Damaged people recognized their own. Josiah could smell it on Heather Price as she led him and Lucas through the vacant apartment.
‘The ad said it was furnished.’ He opened a few cupboards and glanced in the fridge, where a brown ring stained one of the empty shelves. A folding table and two chairs sat under the bare bulb in the dining room, coated in a fine layer of dust.
‘There’s a bed.’ Lucas, already far ahead of the adults, reported from one of the bedrooms.
‘Partially furnished.’ Heather held her elbows and walked to the couch in the living room. ‘You’re not going to find that in Ely at this price. Trust me.’
She pivoted and gave him another once-over without any attempt to disguise what she was doing, her gaze settling somewhere near his wallet. Her hair was limp and tangled, falling almost to her waist, and any luster it might have possessed had leached out a long time ago. Her skin looked brittle, her movements jerky, and it seemed like all the life in her had been sucked into those too-bright reptilian eyes. For someone who’d moved as many times as he had, Josiah had seen plenty of landlords and no matter what the exterior looked like they all spoke the same language.
‘Two hundred and fifty a month? I can give you the first and last month today.’
She backed into the shadows, unblinking. ‘I told you the first month is free.’
‘Dad, the toilet sounds like a frog. Come listen!’ Lucas called from another room.
He glanced at the trampled carpet, the yellowing walls, and the hook in the corner of the ceiling where someone had maybe tried to hang a plant once, as if a tiny gasp of green could make any improvement to the place.
‘Nothing’s free. You can put it toward a damage deposit if you want.’
That made her blink and after a fraction of a pause she reached a hand out of the shadows. He didn’t want to, but he shook it.
Over the next few weeks, he and Lucas settled into the duplex and bought their usual necessities – sheets, toilet paper, bleach – lots of bleach – and also found a secondhand canoe that they stored in the living room. Lucas did his homework every night in the belly of the boat, balancing his worksheets and library books on the thwarts and afterward he wrote and illustrated stories about their adventures, which always ended with treasure and ice cream. Josiah taped all his stories to the walls, next to maps of places they’d been, places they were planning to go, and some places they could only imagine.
They did everything together – cooking, grocery shopping, spending afternoons at the library to surf the Internet and read back issues of National Geographic. He refused to leave him with strangers. The entire concept of exchanging money for childcare hinted too much of his own childhood and then there was the other problem; when Lucas was out of sight, a quiet panic began building in Josiah’s chest. When Josiah had to work evenings, his boss let Lucas hang out in the office. He got up at least once a night to watch the hypnotic rise and fall of his son’s chest and sometimes when he woke up, Lucas’s frame was illuminated in his own doorway, checking on him, too. When he was younger he asked questions from those shadowy doorways. ‘What was Mom’s favorite holiday?’ ‘Did she like cats or dogs better?’ By the time they moved to Ely, though, Lucas just blinked sleep-swollen eyes and turned around, heading back to burrow into his bed. Josiah worried about his son’s lack of friends. He knew what it was like to grow up alone, but every time he mentioned it Lucas scoffed. ‘I’m not alone. I’ve got you, Dad.’ And for the rest of the day he would stand a little closer, talk a little more, showing Josiah with every word and action that there was nothing missing. Together they formed their own discrete ecosystem.
Within their first month in Ely, it became obvious Heather Price was part of no such community. No visitors came in or out of her side of the duplex. She never spent time outside and when Josiah found a citation for yard maintenance in their mailbox, he had to knock on her door for a solid minute before she answered and then she tumbled into an incoherent speech about mayors and her work schedule and neighbors who were trying to repossess her house. Josiah left her mid-rant and found a broken lawn mower in the garage, showed Lucas how to take it apart and fix it, and then mowed the tiny lawn every week until the snow came. Heather watched him from her window, her seemingly lidless eyes following his every move. Lucas studied her in his turn and, like a budding naturalist, called out his observations from their living room window. ‘It’s Work Heather today’ or other days ‘Ugh, Home Heather’ and the two were easy to differentiate. Work Heather had wet hair pulled back into a ponytail and white lab coats frayed at the edges; she stumbled down the street toward some job that required breath mints and hastily applied lipstick. Home Heather, the one they’d seen during the duplex tour, rarely went anywhere and when they did run into her outside it felt somehow calculated. She fawned over Lucas, who at nine years old was long past the age when boys wanted to be fawned over, petting his hair and telling him bizarre facts about his classmates as Lucas jerked out of her spindle-armed reach.