by Becky Durfee
“See? You’re doing it again! You’re trying to make me feel like shit! I’m totally on to you.”
“I’m just speaking the truth…why do you think I kept those things in the closet for so long?”
“Because you’re a shithead! And you were trying to make me feel inadequate. But that won’t work anymore.”
“You need to go.”
“You’re right, I do,” Jenny replied. “I have places to go. I just need to get some clothes…and my easel. I forgot that before.”
“Go ahead. Get your stuff. I don’t give a shit.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Jenny bounded up the stairs, retrieving the items she needed. She quickly looked around for anything else she might want to take, but nothing immediately struck her.
She walked down the stairs and toward the front door where Greg was leaning against the wall in the foyer with his arms folded over his chest. “I give it a week before you’re back.”
Jenny looked at him with a softened expression. “Honestly, I think I’ll be back before then.” She opened the door, and before she walked out she added, “I guarantee there’s something else I forgot.”
She slammed the door behind her.
Chapter 14
“He makes me want to vomit,” Jenny said as she pushed her shopping cart, her phone resting on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I ever agreed to marry him.”
“I take it things didn’t go well?” Zack asked.
“I’m not sure if it did; that’s the crazy part.” Jenny surveyed the lamps in front of her. “I told him I got an apartment, and he just said, you’ll be back. It’s like he doesn’t believe that it’s really over.”
“Well, that’s not your fault. You told him, and if he doesn’t believe you that’s on him.”
Jenny shuddered. “Ugh. I just don’t understand what I ever saw in him. I want to go back in time, find nineteen year old me and shake some sense into her.”
“You can’t change the past,” Zack noted. “You can only look forward. When time goes by and you don’t go back to him, then he’ll figure out you meant it. But really, that’s all you can do.”
She placed a lamp into her cart. “I’m bad at being patient.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
As Jenny moved to the electronics section, she said, “Alright, well, that time do you want to leave for the wake tonight? And do you want to drive or should I?”
“I can drive,” Zack replied. “And the hours are from five to nine. Do you want me to pick you up around five?”
“What time is it?”
“A little after four.”
“Better make it six.” Jenny tossed a couple of DVDs into her cart. “I still need to shower.”
Zack and Jenny exited the car at the funeral home only to find the line for admittance to extending out the door and disappearing around the side of the building. “Wow,” Zack said. “I knew it would be packed, but it’s still impressive.”
“I think she’s everybody’s daughter right now,” Jenny noted as they walked toward the back of the line. “Remember what the news report said—she went to bed in her own home and wasn’t there in the morning. Isn’t that every parent’s worst nightmare?”
“Orlowski is every parent’s worst nightmare.”
The mention of his name caused Jenny to scan the crowd. While she didn’t see him, there were two cops on the street directing traffic and lots of police cars in the parking lot. Whether the policemen were guests or were on duty remained to be seen.
Zack and Jenny waited in line for over an hour before they entered the building, only to notice the line continued for a long time inside. Police officers stood at regular intervals throughout the entryway, but Jenny didn’t see Orlowski. Zack did nudge her, however, and directed her toward a stern looking older officer who monitored the line slightly ahead of him. “Do you see his name tag?” Zack asked.
Jenny squinted and shook her head.
“I think it says Johnson. That may be our informant.”
“You’re the informant,” Jenny stated. “He’s the connection.”
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Zack replied. “Either way it might be him.”
Jenny looked at the man, who seemed preoccupied. He kept glancing inside the funeral home, looking around a corner that Zack and Jenny couldn’t see. “He sure is busy watching something.”
“You think it’s Orlowski?”
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t have any feelings right now. I actually feel quite calm.”
The two went back to remaining silent. As the line progressed, they were able to confirm the stern-looking officer was Johnson. A few moments later Zack peered over Jenny’s shoulder to see what had grabbed Johnson’s attention. “Yup,” Zack said. “That’s Orlowski. He’s standing in the back corner.”
“Don’t stare at him,” Jenny warned.
“Don’t worry. He’s not looking at me,” Zack whispered. “That sick bastard. He is standing at attention as if he actually is showing respect.”
“I wonder why I’m not getting any feelings. Her killer is in the same room with her.”
“But so is everyone she loves, and then some,” Zack noted.
Jenny glanced toward the casket and found some teenage girls kneeling, crying, saying their last goodbyes. She had to look away before the sadness overwhelmed her, but she surmised Zack’s analysis was right—maybe Morgan was more focused on her friends than Orlowski right now. That notion gave Jenny some peace.
Curiosity got the best of Jenny, and she glanced up to see Orlowski for herself. He was looking toward the casket with an expression that could have been perceived as majestic, but Jenny saw it differently. He was proud of himself. He single-handedly affected every single person in this room, and he felt good about that.
Asshole.
She didn’t know how long she’d been staring when his eyes met hers. Shit, she thought, but in an instant she turned on her flirty smile and waved subtly at him. He raised his chin in her direction in acknowledgement.
“Shit. He caught me,” Jenny said through her teeth. “He caught me staring at him.”
“And you told me not to stare,” Zack said.
“I know. I blew it,” Jenny admitted. “Look irritated. Like we can barely stand each other.”
Jenny rubbed her forehead with feigned disgust. This reaction was easy to elicit for her—she only had to think of Orlowski and the repulsion rose to the surface.
Soon their turn at the casket had arrived. “One at a time,” Jenny whispered. “I’d like a minute alone with her. You go first.”
Zack traveled alone to the side of the casket, kneeling down, interlacing his fingers like a school boy. Jenny watched him there, remembering a similar image from Elanor’s viewing. They hadn’t known each other long enough to have already attended two funerals together. Although, in this line of work, they would probably attend a lot more. Sorrow crept into Jenny’s bones.
Zack’s turn at the casket was relatively short. Then Jenny approached, kneeling down, taking a long, silent look at the girl who should have been anywhere but there. The body in the casket didn’t resemble the pictures Jenny had seen of a vibrant young woman, brimming with life. Although Jenny knew she wasn’t looking at Morgan—she was merely looking at the body that had once housed Morgan—she spoke anyway. “I’ll get him,” she whispered. “Just keep working with me, and I will get him. I already know what happened—we just need to prove it. We’ll clear Jeremy’s name, and we’ll put Orlowski in jail.” Suddenly doubt materialized within Jenny, so she adjusted her words. “I promise you…I will either get Orlowski, or I will die trying.”
Jenny hung her head, closed her eyes, and whispered in closing, “Once this ordeal is over, may you have an eternity of peace.”
Jenny stood up, looking to her left, realizing it was time to face Morgan’s parents. That could have proven to be more difficult than paying her respects to Morgan. Sorrow had always been contagious for Jenny.
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Business, Jenny thought. You’re here on business. She marched over to the Caldwells, first shaking Mrs. Caldwell’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Clearly exhausted, Morgan’s mother answered somewhat mechanically. “Thank you. The support from the community has been overwhelming.”
“We are all behind you,” Jenny replied, before she moved on to Morgan’s father. Once again she extended her hand, expressing her condolences, resisting the urge to point at Orlowski and tell Mr. Caldwell that this was really the man who had killed his daughter. In due time, she thought. Besides, Mr. Caldwell was better off being ignorant at this point. If he knew the murderer was standing mere yards away from him—and Morgan—it would have been too much for the grieving father to handle.
Zack looked somewhat pale when Jenny met up with him at the end of the receiving line. “That was brutal,” he whispered.
Jenny kept her tears tucked safely away. “I know,” she said. “Why don’t we have a seat?”
Despite the length of the line to get into the funeral home, the seats were largely empty. Most people, it seemed, left after paying their respects. Zack and Jenny sat down as Jenny whispered, “I want to go say hello to him.”
“Who? Orlowski?”
Jenny nodded.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Jenny glanced at him, unsure if he was aware he was quoting Officer Fazzino’s brother. Sometimes he delivered humor with such a straight face it was difficult for her to tell. “I think it’s what my character would do,” Jenny confessed.
“Your character?”
“Yeah, the person I pretended to be when I talked to him. Flirty, kind of dumb…I think she’d go say hi.”
Zack inhaled deeply and cocked his head to the side. “Okay,” he said, “Knock yourself out. Just be careful.”
Jenny stood up and walked sideways out of the row of chairs toward Orlowski. He seemed to recognize she was on her way to say hello to him; he watched her from the moment she looked up at him.
“Hi there,” Jenny began, “Remember me?”
“Billy’s, right?”
“Yup. Or should I say, yes sir? Look at you all fancy in your uniform. Are you on duty right now?”
“Unofficially,” he replied. “We were all asked to come. You know, show our support, maintain crowd control.”
“Well, you do look very handsome.”
Orlowski looked over Jenny’s shoulder toward Zack. “Is that your husband?”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “For now.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Listen, I’ve actually come over here to tell you how impressed I am with how quickly you were able to solve this case. You guys really did a great job.”
“Thanks,” Orlowski replied. “It was pretty much open and shut.”
“Well, it still wouldn’t be solved without good police work.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ooh. Listen to you. Ma’am.” Jenny said. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”
“Not as long as I’m alive,” Orlowski replied. Jenny was nearly overcome with repulsion.
“Well, I guess I’d better get back to my husband.” Jenny made a face as she said the word. “But maybe I’ll see you around Billy’s sometime?”
“I’m there all the time.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll see you soon.” Jenny flashed a flirty smile and headed back to her seat.
With her back to Orlowski, Jenny whispered to Zack, “I want to puke.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, really. Just the man himself makes me sick, and the fact that I just flirted with him in a funeral home is even more disgusting.” Jenny shivered. “I need a shower.”
“I don’t know why you wanted to go over there in the first place.”
“I’m laying groundwork,” Jenny said. “I mentioned I’m not happily married, and I also mentioned I might see him at Billy’s again. He said he’s always there…that sounded like an open invitation.”
“An open invitation to hang out with a serial killer.”
“An open invitation to catch a serial killer.”
Zack scratched his head and made a face. “You make me nervous.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay. Although,” she added, “I feel funny right now.”
Zack looked up. “Well that’s why.”
Orlowski had left his post in the back corner of the room and walked by the casket, rounding the corner that led to the exit. Soon he was out of sight.
“I still feel funny,” Jenny said. “I don’t think he left.”
“Do you think he got in line?”
“Possibly.” Jenny rested her elbows on her knees and placed her head in her hands.
“Are you okay?”
Jenny nodded.
“Are you in pain?”
Keeping her head in her hands, she said, “Kind of. It’s like there’s a really, really loud ringing in my head…so loud it hurts.”
“We can leave if you want.”
Jenny shook her head. “No. I have to learn to deal with this.”
Zack placed his hand on her back, rubbing her for support. While Jenny appreciated the sentiment, she moved his hand away. “You hate me, remember?”
Zack let out a sigh that was clearly rooted in frustration. Jenny knew what she was doing to him, and while she felt bad about it, it was the least of her concerns. She felt like she was about to explode.
The noise within her resonated louder and louder until Zack whispered, “He just rounded the corner. He’s in line to pay his respects.”
Already having drawn that conclusion, Jenny nodded subtly. Sweat began to drip down her face.
“You really don’t look well,” Zack said helplessly. “I think we should leave.”
“No,” Jenny whispered emphatically. “Morgan can’t leave. This is her pain that I’m feeling. I can’t abandon her.”
Nausea gripped Jenny, and the voices in the funeral home echoed in her head. She began to feel distant, as if the room had just grown longer.
She looked up to see Zack—and numerous strangers—leaning over her. She was flat on her back between two rows of chairs.
“Hey!” Zack called, giving Jenny a gentle shake. “Hey! Are you okay?”
Confused, Jenny put her hand on her forehead. “Yeah,” she said weakly. “I’m okay.”
“It’s her blood sugar,” Zack explained to the crowd. “It gets too low sometimes.”
Still too feeble to get up, Jenny surveyed the onlookers with embarrassment. She held her hand up to gesture that she was fine, adding, “I didn’t eat enough today. That’s all.”
“Do you need us to get you something?” a kind stranger asked.
“No, we keep a soda in the car,” Zack countered.
“We can stay with her if you want to go get it,” another person said.
“I think the fresh air will do her good,” Zack replied. “I’ll just bring her to the car and take her home.”
Jenny nodded from the floor. “He’s right. I’ll be fine.” While she still felt too weak to do so, she sat up and pretended to be well.
The crowd began to dissipate as Zack helped Jenny to her feet. He held her up as they walked past Orlowski, through the entryway, and out the door. The crisp fall air did bring Jenny some immediate comfort; she breathed in deeply and felt a new sense of strength.
“I told you we should have left,” Zack muttered angrily.
“I know. You were right.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
Zack shook his head. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
“Did I pass out?”
“Hell yes you passed out,” he replied irritably. “One minute you’re just sitting there and the next you’re on the floor, out cold. I didn’t know what to do.”
Jenny laughed feebly. “Sorry about that.”
“Do me a favor,” he said a little more calmly. “Next ti
me you feel like that, don’t try to be a hero. Get yourself out of there.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Jenny concluded as she slowly lowered herself into the passenger seat of his car. Zack shut the door behind her and walked around to the driver’s side.
Once inside the car, Zack asked, “Do you want to sleep at my place tonight? Not for sex, but so I can keep an eye on you?”
“I actually think that’s a good idea,” Jenny admitted. “Thanks for the offer.”
The two were quiet for a while as Zack calmed down. Eventually he spoke, his voice reflecting a hint of sympathy. “You must have really been in pain in there.”
Jenny nodded. “It was awful. One time I had a really bad hangover in college, and it felt like that, only fifty times more intense.”
Zack patted her leg playfully. “A hangover reference. Nothing like catering to your audience. It’s definitely a feeling I can relate to.”
“Then you know how much that sucked.”
“Indeed. Although, you said you had a hangover once in college. Did you really only have one hangover?”
“Are you really choosing this moment to point out how much of a nerd I am?”
Zack laughed. “No. I actually admire how good you are. I was hung over all the damn time when I was younger.”
“Ick,” Jenny said. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
“I was a boy,” he replied. “And boys are stupid, remember?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any of my stuff here,” Jenny noted as she walked into Zack’s apartment.
“What do you need?”
“A change of clothes, my toothbrush…”
“Well, little lady, you’re in luck,” Zack said. “Here, sit down on the couch. Get comfy. I’ll be right back.”
Jenny stifled a smile as she sat, wondering what Zack had up his sleeve. He emerged from his bedroom carrying a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “These may be a little big, but these are my smallest ones. Sweats are supposed to be big anyway.” He plopped the clothes down on the sofa next to her and disappeared into his bathroom. “And,” he called proudly, “the last time I went to the store, I thought maybe I should pick up an extra toothbrush.” He returned, putting the sealed package on top of the clothes. “I figured if you were going to be sleeping over sometimes, it might be better if you kept one here.”