Justice (The Galilee Falls Trilogy)

by Jennifer Harlow

  All the other doctors grin and wave as she passes and a few patients’ families do as well. I’ll lay even odds she was popular in high school too. Voted “Most Likely to Succeed” and prom queen. The only people I was popular with were the truant officers. I trail behind her like her shorter, less attractive shadow. We find an empty table next to a window, and I can see The Falls in the distance across the river. I love looking at it. The waterfall, a quarter mile wide, cascades off black rock. That white water over black onyx always draws a crowd.

  “I am starving,” she says as she takes a baby bite of her salad.

  “Me too,” I mutter with a good helping of pork chop in my mouth.

  “But I have to lose five pounds before the wedding. I just had to choose satin. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Have I shown you a picture of the dress yet?”

  Only half a dozen freaking times. “Yeah. It’s beautiful.” And it is. Sleek ivory satin, sleeveless, with crystals and tiny pearls swirling around. Only ten grand for something she’ll wear once. Okay, I have to stop thinking like this. She’s wonderful. Justin is the happiest he’s ever been. I have an awesome boyfriend. I’m a lucky girl. If I just keep telling myself these things, maybe I’ll start believing them.

  “I can’t wait to show it to you on,” she says with another bite of lettuce. “Will you still have time on Saturday to meet us at the dress shop? They really need to fit your dress. I finally decided on sky blue to match your eyes. You are going to look gorgeous! I’m dying for you to see it. I have the whole day planned. The shop, then lunch, then I was thinking we could go for pedicures. Mom’s never had one before.”

  Oh, lord save me from female bonding. “We’ll play it by ear,” I say. “If something comes up or there’s a break in the case…I’ll do my best.”

  “You have to be there. At least for the fitting. Half an hour, tops.”

  “I can’t control these things.”

  “But if you’re not there, then they won’t have time to alter the dress.”

  Why do I get the feeling that after this I’m going to get a nasty call from Justin? “Look, I’ll do everything in my power to be there. I promise. Same with the party tomorrow night.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” she says with sincerity. “I swear I’m turning into the supervillain Bridezilla. It’s just that my last wedding was at city hall, and I always regretted that.”

  Her previous husband Micah, the father of Daisy, was an abusive bastard who she divorced when she was seven months pregnant. Brave of her. He is currently doing a stint in prison for assaulting his boss and shares a cell with Big Bubba. The woman learned her lesson and has definitely upgraded.

  “Maybe we should just fly to St. Tropez and elope,” Rebecca continues. “Get married on the beach with just family there, but I guess it’s too late. The invitations are out and the food is ordered.” She sighs. “I’m just so exhausted. It’s like I have three full-time jobs, what with here, the wedding, and Daisy. I wish I knew Dr. Avatar. Maybe he could clone me. Never a supervillain around when you need one, huh?”

  “I seem to be having that problem as well.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry! That was a silly thing to say. How is that going? Have you been working around the clock? I’ll bet you have. Justin says you’re the most tenacious person he’s ever met.”

  “It’s going well. We have a few leads. We’ll find him.”

  “Well, Justin is just frantic with worry about you. I had to convince him not to phone the mayor and bar you from the case.”

  “He was going to do that?”

  “He had the phone in his hand. But I told him you were a grown, more than capable woman who the people of the city needed out there if we expected to find this monster,” she says with utter conviction.

  “Thank you,” I say, and to my surprise I actually mean it.

  “He is just so protective of you.” She takes another bite. Almost all my food is gone, but half her salad and all of the soup remains. “To be perfectly candid, it bothered me a little in the beginning. I thought maybe he was in love with you, or vice versa.” My heart skips a beat. “But then, as I watched the two of you, I sort of fell in love with him because of your love for each other. How open, how honest and warm he was with you. It showed me what a good man he is, and how much I wanted someone to feel those things for me too. That connection. That love.” Her smile doubles, if possible. “And having you in my life is just an added bonus. I would like nothing more than for us to be best friends.” She shakes her head. “You’re so strong and fearless. I feel like a meek little nothing compared to you. I wish I could be that way. And I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, but I’m still sort of threatened by you. I mean, I know Justin loves me with all his heart, and I know you both have too much integrity to ever cheat, but I am. You two have this bond like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m a little jealous. I just hope one day you and I could have a relationship like that. I want it more than almost anything.”

  Okay…I feel like total and utter shit. They could do a full-scale model of the Eiffel Tower with the amount of shit I feel like right now. For months I’ve been praying that a hole would swallow her up. Or aliens would abduct her. I’ve been standoffish, and just a bitch behind her back. And all this time she’s been admiring me, and wanting nothing more than to be my best friend. They’re reserving my spot in hell right now.

  It’s hard to process that she’s been comparing herself to me and not stacking up, as I’ve been doing with her. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that.” She covers her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. It’s…I’m sorry if I did anything to cause you to feel like that,” I say, genuinely meaning it.

  “You didn’t. It’s me. It’s all me and my stupid insecurities.” She lowers her head, shaking it. “Anyway, the uncomfortable soul bearing portion of our meal is over with.” She smiles again. “Time for the fun stuff. Are you bringing anyone to the engagement party tomorrow? Or the wedding?”

  Subtle. “I’m afraid I’ll be flying solo tomorrow night if I can go.”

  “Oh,” she says sadly. “Well, maybe you’ll meet someone tomorrow night. A lot of people from the hospital are coming. There’s actually this really brilliant neurologist I worked with in Independence who I’m just dying to introduce you to. He’s one of my oldest, dearest friends, and the sweetest man alive. I think you’ll really hit it off.”

  I take a bite of my brownie. “Please stop trying to set me up. Between you, Justin, and Cam’s wife, I think I’ve had dinner with the whole male population of Galilee by now.”

  “We just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy,” I say quickly. “I’m happy for you. And Justin. The rest, well, it’ll come when it comes. No rush.”

  “Maybe with Dr. Ambrose,” she says with a knowing smile.

  “Maybe.”

  It’s times like these I wish I could tell the world about Harry. Shout it from the rafters that there’s a descent, hardworking man who thinks I’m worthwhile. But that would be too much like right. Too grown up. Too real.

  The rest of lunch is filled with the dreaded girl talk about the wedding, Daisy, and of course Justin. The way she talks about him, and looks when she’s talking about him, grates me. It’s akin to hero worship. Her eyes double in size, she gets a silly grin on her face, and giggles more than any grown woman should. V’s told me I look exactly the same way when I talk about him. Strange to see the same look on your rival’s face. No, not rival. No doubts now. She loves him just as much as I do. No. Stop. Not doing this. Not anymore. She’s not a rival, there wasn’t even a contest. You lost years ago. Think of other things.

  I keep a smile on my face and half listen, my mind wandering a tad. If Dodd’s recollections are correct, then Moore was the only one who could open the cell. It is possible that one of the other guards left it unlocked and Ryder waited u
ntil night, but I doubt it. Why take a chance that someone on duty would notice? No, Stu Moore just became suspect number one. Ryder killed him so he couldn’t talk, poor bastard. But what if—

  “Don’t you think?” Rebecca says, pulling me back.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Our hair. I think I’ll have an up-do with daisies, and all the bridesmaids will too. Are you okay with that?”

  “Fine. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Her face scrunches up. “I’m boring you, aren’t I?” she asks.

  “No, sorry. I’ve just got work on my mind. I actually should get back to it.” I take a final bite of my brownie before rising.

  “Okay,” she says, also standing. Before I can stop her, she pulls me into a hug. I hesitate for a moment, my arms suspended at my sides not wanting to put forth the effort, but I force them to embrace her back. “Be safe.”

  I pat her back. “I will.”

  She releases me, a smile of course there. “Thank you for having lunch with me. I really appreciate it.”

  “Of course. Bye.” And I rush out of there before she can say another word.

  Veronica remains at her post, waiting for something to report. She perks up when she notices me coming at her like a cruise missile. “Hey,” she says.

  I grab her arm and pull my surprised cousin out of the chair. “I promise to answer all your questions if you leave with me. Right now.”

  “What? Why—”

  Rebecca walks to the reception desk to ask something, but spots us. She smiles and waves. We respond in kind, though the sentiment is different on this end. “Oh,” V says through her smile.

  I lock my arm in V’s and pull her away toward the exit. I need a drink.

  ***

  V’s Irish genes are recessive, at least in regards to the desire to consume alcohol. The girl, and I use the term loosely as she’s a year older than me, barely touches the stuff. She’s always been the good one of the family. College graduate, owns her apartment, and until recently was in a long term relationship with a criminal defense attorney. He and I had fun conversations at Thanksgiving.

  The story goes that my Pop was dating my hell-beast mother when she introduced him to proud new Papa, Uncle Ray, Aunt Emily, and three-month-old Veronica. Pop held the little baby and that was it. That night he knocked up Mom just so he could have his own little angel. Don’t know if I should thank her or smack her. Depends on the day.

  Where alcohol is my drug of choice, V’s is coffee. She has about six cups a day, and since it’s more socially acceptable to indulge her addiction in the middle of the day, we stroll down the riverwalk to a coffee shop a few blocks away. We sit inside as far from everyone as possible in the corner.

  “You know, I’ve seen her all of three times,” V says as she sips her drink, “and every time she’s had a smile on her face.”

  “I’ve seen her a billion times and can say the same thing,” I say.

  “Nobody is that happy all the time without pharmaceutical intervention. You sure she’s not on happy pills? Cause if she is, I want a prescription.”

  “No. She’s just like a fairytale princess with birds fluttering around her head, chirping a melody or something.” I sip my black coffee. “And why not? She escaped the evil ex-husband, has a precious daughter, she saves babies all day, and now she’s got the handsome prince madly in love with her. Hell, I’d smile all the time too.”

  “And in this fairy tale, who do you cast yourself as?”

  “I alternate between the wicked crone thrusting a poison apple in her face or the troll under the bridge. Depends on my hair that day.”

  V chuckles and shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I’d want to rip her hair out.” My dear cousin is the only person I’ve actually admitted my feelings about Justin to. Everyone else just knows.

  “If I did that, it’d just grow back more lustrous than before.”

  “Most likely, but at least you’d feel better for a few seconds.”

  “She’s so nice, V,” I say. “You know what she said to me today? That she wishes she was like me. That I’m fearless and strong, and that she’s threatened. By me! Can you believe that shit? I felt like such an asshole. I wanted to run screaming from the table or slap her to stop the words.”

  “That bitch,” V says, sarcastically. “Liking you. The nerve.”

  “Funny, cuz.”

  V sips her coffee. “I don’t know. You’ve always had such a blind spot when it comes to Justin. Always. You justify his every action. You can’t see his faults, and he can do no wrong. It’s not healthy. Maybe it’s time you started distancing yourself from him. He is not worth the pain. Put away fucking childish things and move on. He’s gone. You will never have what you want. She’s the one he’s marrying. She’s the one who will have his children. She’s the one who gets to share his bed. His life! She’s the most important person to him now. You’re the one he’ll go out for drinks with after work to bitch about trivialities like her snoring and playful nagging. It’s not you and him against the world anymore, it’s her and him. He’s not alone anymore; he doesn’t need you like he did. He has a family now, a real one. And the sooner you realize that, you moron, the sooner you’ll get a life of your own. Like you deserve. You deserve to be happy, Jo. It’s okay to be happy.”

  The words sting like acid, but I know they’re true. “It’s not that easy. I’ve been in love with him for almost twenty years. A fucking lifetime! We’ve seen each other through the worst of the worst. He saved my life, V. I can’t just turn it off and say good-bye. I can’t.”

  “Then start preparing yourself for the inevitable and try to make the best of it. Maybe actually truly try to embrace Rebecca and Daisy. Look at all her good traits, which I’m sure are legion. Think of it as gaining a friend, and not losing one.”

  “You sound like an advice column,” I say with a sneer.

  “I got this stuff from ‘Ask Mary.’ If it was me, the second I realized he would never love me back, I would have run the other way. But you know this. I think you just like torturing yourself. You’re only happy when you’re miserable. You get that from Aunt Maeve.” She sips her coffee. “Speaking of, so I no longer have to listen to this crap for the trillionth time, cousin dear, Dad’s planning on going out to the cemetery on her birthday next week. He wants to know if you want to go too.”

  “He can give her my regards.” Ten years ago my mom fulfilled my prophecy of her death, passing out drunk with a lit cigarette and burning her apartment down. I hadn’t spoken to her in four years, and only found out when someone at the department contacted me as a courtesy. Didn’t shed one tear for that abusive alcoholic. I used to go to the cemetery with Uncle Ray, the only one of her siblings who still gave a damn about her, but the whole thing felt phony. “I’ll pass.”

  “He also wants to know why you haven’t called him back.”

  “I’m busy. I’ve only slept about eight hours in four days, okay? I’ll try to make Sunday supper this week.”

  “And Bobby wants to know how to get a permit to carry a handgun. And Eamon wants to know if his application to Pendergast Productions went through. And R.J. needs another speeding ticket fixed.” V’s the eldest and only girl, poor thing. “And I shouldn’t have to play messenger girl. You need to call them back, if you can pull yourself out of your own misery for a minute. We’re your real family, remember?”

  “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.