“Huh…well I’m guessing you’re all filled out now.”
Time to get the information I had called for. “So about the murder. My colleague told me that her throat was slit? Anything else you remember about the body that was unusual?”
I started tapping my pen on the table. My head felt thick. The closer I came to him the harder it was to hold onto me.
But I had to know…
“Hmm. Hang on a sec.” I heard muffled voices and knew that he had covered the phone with his hand.
“Yeah, I just asked another officer, and he said her hands were cut off. It was really grisly stuff. And that where she was found was not where she was killed. She had been dumped.”
Buzz…
“Okay, thank you so much,” I said weakly. I hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Janette Winters. I pulled up her picture on my laptop. Shoulder length hair, dark. Curly. Far away eyes. I couldn’t tell their color. That didn’t really matter anyway. It was the way she looked through them that I cared about.
She was pretty. They all were. Pretty but lost. Looking and looking.
Nothing to tether them.
Drifting.
Daddy’s stars.
The words came fluidly. I wrote them down.
Janette was older than her years. Her eyes told the story of a world that had deserted her. She had no home. No family. No one to notice when she was gone. But she could sing. Janette had the voice of an angel. Lifting her up. Up. Up. Into the heavens.
Forever. Where she finally belonged.
With the stars.
I continued to go to work every day but the necessity of it didn’t seem as immediate as when I had first moved to Brecken Forest. Time was dwindling. Tick tock went the clock.
Pretenses were still important. I had a face to wear.
“I’ve noticed that boy from the guitar studio in here a bunch over the last couple of weeks. Are you two dating?”
Diana, Diana, Diana. It was looking like she’d never learn.
“Not really,” I answered truthfully.
What we were doing was so much more…intricate…than dating.
“Oh.” Diana looked confused. I enjoyed that.
“He’s just here so much. But just friends then?”
“No, we’re not friends.” I shouldn’t get so much pleasure from her discomfort. But I did.
“Not friends and not dating. Then why is he in here, talking to you, every single time you work?”
I picked up the pile of books and walked away. I heard her grumbling under her breath.
She hated me. Really, really hated me.
I went to the second floor of the bookshop and looked out the window, across the street toward George’s Custom Shop. I knew he was in there. He had gone to work when I did. Three hours past when he was supposed to be there.
He had fretted and worried over being late. I had silenced him easily enough.
“Layna.” I didn’t jump at the unexpected arrival. Even though I was instantly on guard.
“Can I help you find something?” I asked, still looking out the window. I could see her reflection in the glass. She was standing close behind me. Too close. But I wouldn’t move.
“No I’m not looking for something. I’m looking to get rid of something,” Margie spat and I smirked. She was so predictable. So mundane.
She wore her jealously like a neon sign. Simple to read. Easy. Just like her.
“We’re not in the market for used books,” I said, being purposefully obtuse.
Margie grabbed my arm. Thick fingers digging into infuriated skin. I breathed out heavily through my nose.
And I thought about the blood.
“Look at me you spiteful cunt,” she hissed, and I pulled my arm away. Not a yank. Not desperate to be free of her. Just a gentle tug out of her grip.
I didn’t rise to her bait. I didn’t respond to her barb. I continued to look out the window.
Toward Elian…
“Ever since you started sniffing around, Elian hasn’t been right. He’s different!”