by R. H. Herron
Harper gave another rapid inhalation. “No, fuck that. Do you think—did Zach hurt? When it happened?”
What was the right answer? The truth would have to do. Jojo nodded. “I don’t know. But I think so.”
“Shit.” Harper leaned forward and started working with the knots. “Ray did them tight. You have to tell him you got out of them. And I’m not helping you get past him.”
“Hurry,” breathed Jojo. The noise upstairs had quieted. Either Dixon was dead or he’d won, and she knew who she’d lay money on. “What’s the address here?”
Harper frowned and tugged on the rope. “Why?”
“Just tell me.”
“It’s 11621 Hinds.”
The second her hands were free, Jojo bent to undo the knots at her feet. Her muscles burned from being asleep so long. “Undo Kevin while I do this.”
“No, just you.”
Fine, Jojo would have to undo him later. Her leg rope was off. She pushed herself to standing. Then she lunged toward Bettina’s voice. If it wasn’t just a scanner, if Dixon had actually kept a department-issued radio at home, like so many of them did—
There it was. Tucked neatly into its base, fully charged, a Motorola just like the one her dad always carried. Just like the one she’d used in bed on birthday nights.
She lifted the radio to her mouth. She pushed the button and held it for the split second it took to open the channel.
Then, as Harper lunged at her, she said loudly and clearly, “Car 143, 11-99, 11621 Hinds.”
Her old code, with “officer down.” Jojo had never even heard 11-99 said on the air. It meant it was the direst of emergencies. She’d get in so much trouble later for saying it, with no actual officer down, but it had been the only thing she could think of to say. Even if half the cops at the department were corrupt, surely a few of them wouldn’t be.
Harper was on her then with a shriek, punching and slapping. “You bitch!”
“Stop!” Jojo dropped the radio and tried to grab her wrists. “Get off!”
Harper connected with a fist to Jojo’s jaw. Jojo’s neck snapped backward with an audible crack. Harper jabbed at her again, but she dodged this time. Then Harper got her arms around Jojo’s waist and heaved, trying to drag Jojo down with her.
Harper was serious.
She wanted to stop Jojo, maybe permanently.
Jojo lunged for the radio. She raised it, adrenaline pouring through her veins, acidic and hot. With a shout she brought it down hard on top of Harper’s skull.
Harper dropped like a marionette with its strings cut, folding into a heap at Jojo’s feet. Jojo’s first impulse was to fall, too, to make sure Harper was okay, that she wasn’t hurt too badly, but Kevin—she had to free him.
He was still out, but his eyelids were flickering quickly, as if he were dreaming. “Come on, Kevin, wake up. Can you wake up?” The knot of rope at his feet was easy, the one at his wrists more difficult. His hands were freezing to the touch. She ripped the duct tape from his face and pulled out the wet gag. “Kevin. I need you. Please wake up.”
His leg kicked, and his mouth moved. He gasped a deep breath, but his eyelids remained closed. He gasped again.
So did she.
Harper was motionless, lying in a late beam of sunlight from a high, street-level window.
There was no air—no air. Jojo sucked in a breath and felt her vision narrow.
A female’s scream filtered down from upstairs.
Mom.
SIXTY
LAURIE WILLED HERSELF to be as still as possible underneath Dixon’s weight. She stared at the tile in front of her. A thin tributary of blood ran toward the grout. His blood? Hers? Didn’t matter. She’d fool him, trick him into thinking she would acquiesce because of the threat to her daughter. And then she’d do what it took.
She made the wrong decisions sometimes. She fucked up. She always needed backup.
But not today.
Today she’d finally do it right. By herself.
She struggled to draw breath underneath him.
I’ll give you everything to leave her alone. Take me. Leave her. Let her go. For a second she thought of Harper. Take Harper. Keep her.
Dixon’s voice was low in her ear. “I’m going to stand up. If you move at all, I’ll kill you instantly. It’ll be easier on you, but that’ll be harder on your daughter when it’s her turn.”
GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER.
Laurie’s blood was ice—terror shot through her exhausted limbs. “I won’t move,” she whispered.
“I’m going to have to tie you up. And you’re going to let me, or it goes worse on Jojo.”
She nodded. A lie. It’s a lie. But she wasn’t sure it was—would she be able to move at all? Her body was used up, depleted. If she had energy left, she didn’t know where it was.
But she had to find it.
“I wouldn’t have had to take Jojo if you hadn’t come looking for me,” Dixon said, as he scraped himself off her. “But when I saw you both together with Kevin, I realized I couldn’t trust the legal system to punish him the way he deserves. Now he’ll go down for her murder too—and you’ll pay for hitting me with that fucking pistol.” He slammed his elbow into her kidneys. She screamed. The pain was excruciating, like a hot knife to her guts, only that probably wouldn’t have hurt as much. The stars came back with the darkness behind her eyes, and she longed for it to get darker, to be able to let go.
“Mama!”
She lifted her head.
Jojo was in one piece. One glorious, terrified piece.
“Get out! Run!” Laurie’s voice was thick in her throat.
Her daughter stood at the top of the steps. “No!”
“Harper!” Dixon pushed himself to standing. He bellowed again, “Harper!”
It hit Laurie then—he expected Harper to come help him.
Both of them were in on this. All of this.
The three of them exploded into simultaneous motion at the same time. Jojo dove for the gun on the floor of the hallway. Dixon rushed at her, his hands aimed for her throat. Jojo twisted, falling onto her side, scrabbling at his hands to tear them off her neck. Laurie launched herself at them. Get between them, get the gun. Whatever it took, she was leaving here with her daughter.
A tangle then—a whirl of arms and blows and thuds and grunts. Dixon was strong, and the gun skidded into the middle of the tiled floor.
Go slow to go fast. Laurie felt the blur decelerate. Suddenly there was all the time in the world, and she saw their bodies in the terrible dance as if they were frozen—Dixon’s arm was up, coming down slow as molasses to strike Jojo. Laurie slid sideways just enough to catch the blow with her shoulder. Jojo reached a long arm out—so slowly, so gorgeously—and caught the gun in her palm. Her daughter pushed against the wall and leisurely swam away from the snarl of Laurie’s and Dixon’s limbs.
Lying on her side, Jojo raised the gun. It didn’t shake. Jojo was as methodical as Laurie was—Laurie could see it in the way her eyes moved. Carefully. Deliberately.
“Honey, no.”
Jojo looked at her.
Her daughter would pull the trigger, she knew she would.
And Jojo would never recover.
“Give it to me,” said Laurie. She reached for the gun, but Jojo was too far—
A howl came from the stairs, and Kevin stumbled into the hallway. “You son of a bitch!” His roar blasted through time, setting the clock back into motion, and everything went fast again, faster than normal.
Laurie saw a look of fear smash across Dixon’s face.
Kevin tackled him, clobbering Dixon and taking him back down to the floor. Sound was hollow and low, Dixon’s scream ricocheting off the walls.
“Joshi.” Laurie lurched toward her daughter.
With one move Jojo
spun the gun around and handed it to her.
“Kevin! Hold him still!”
And I’ll kill him. That was what Laurie meant. The gun was steady in her hands.
Kevin heard her say it. Their eyes met.
She would kill Dixon, and this would be over. Forever.
Kevin rolled, covering Dixon with his body.
He was motherfucking shielding him.
“Kevin! Get the fuck off him!”
Kevin shook his head. Dixon was quiet beneath him. “We don’t kill him. We let him hang for it.”
But he might get away with it. He might get off. Cops always do. Always.
Dixon’s arm jerked underneath Kevin’s body.
Kevin’s face blanched. He rolled to the side, off Dixon, then scooted backward so he was resting against the wall.
A knife stuck out from the side of Kevin’s ribs. Laurie heard the wet shhhh in his breath as his lungs lost pressure.
Dixon scrambled forward, his good eye wild, his other one solid red and leaking blood. He grabbed Laurie’s leg, dragging her down, but she spun in the air a slow, balletic move. Jojo screamed.
Laurie had one long, slow second, equal to a year, to consider her action. Investigation. Job loss. Shame. Guilt.
Yep. Fine.
Laurie aimed at Dixon’s chest, the gun a simple extension of her hand. Using her breath more than her finger, she pulled the trigger.
Dixon thumped backward, the blood from his chest mixing with the blood dripping from his eye. He landed hard, his torso propped up crooked against the wall.
He looked down at his chest, then back up.
“Fuck,” he said questioningly.
The outer door was thrown open, and only after the uniforms raced in did Laurie hear the cacophony of sirens outside.
“Everyone, FREEZE!” Nate Steiner’s voice was so loud it made Laurie’s still-ringing ears ache. She dropped the gun and raised her hands automatically. Jojo was lying on her side, unmoving except for her heaving chest.
Behind Steiner came Omid.
He was halfway in his uniform, the shirt unbuttoned, no belt. He still had IV tubing connected to the arm that held his gun. He hurled himself into the hall, pushing Steiner out of the way.
“Medic!” Omid yelled over his shoulder. He moved toward their daughter, swaying slightly, as if a strong wind had blown him into the small space.
Laurie scooted through the blood, unable to stand.
They reached Jojo at the same time.
Then Jojo was in the circle of their arms. Laurie pulled them to the side, against the far wall, and blocked Jojo’s line of sight with her body so she couldn’t see the medics starting CPR on Dixon, so she couldn’t see them putting Kevin on a stretcher and taking him out to the waiting ambulance. Omid said things that didn’t make any sense and kissed Jojo’s hair a thousand times. Jojo was rigid but breathing evenly.
The medics stopped the CPR, calling it. Time of death 7:32 P.M.
“I’m glad, Mama,” Jojo whispered in her ear.
Laurie kissed Jojo’s temple. Feeling her daughter’s rapid pulse under her lips, her own heart finally started beating again.
SIXTY-ONE
THEN, FOR A long time, chaos swirled. Laurie tried to pay attention to all the moving parts, but there was really just one moving thing that mattered: Jojo. Laurie’s neck was killing her, and bruises were starting to rise in painful lumps all over her body. But she didn’t let Jojo go.
Steiner moved them out to the front yard, where preliminary, abbreviated statements were taken as they sat in the back of his patrol car. Harper was brought to the backyard with Officer Connors, presumably to do the same.
Laurie answered automatically, her hand never releasing Jojo’s. Omid sat on their daughter’s other side. Everything would be explained at some point. Now was the time the officers would start scratching together the basic particulars, making sense of them to weave the story together.
That was Steiner’s problem.
Not hers.
Steiner was staring at her, she noticed. She had no idea what he’d asked her, but she said, “Did you sleep with her?”
“What?” Steiner looked honestly perplexed, and he glanced at Jojo. “Who?”
“It’ll all come out, you know.” Laurie’s voice sounded almost lazy, the way she felt. “All of them. All the men who slept with Harper, they’ll lose their jobs.”
“Maybe,” said Omid. “You know what it takes to lose a job around here.”
A sluggish rage rose in her, an anger that should twist and leap but instead just roiled slowly inside her chest. She didn’t care that Jojo was between them. She stared at her husband, the man she thought she’d known. “And you. If you hadn’t tried to hide it, to cover it up . . .”
She expected him to look away, but Omid’s eyes met hers directly. “I’m to blame. I’ve never fucked up so bad in my life. I hope I never do again. I’m to blame for all of this.”
“Daddy, no—”
Laurie broke her gaze.
Steiner had turned around, ostensibly working on the report. She wondered if he was taking notes on what they said.
She decided she didn’t care. “Because of you, Harper and Dixon did all this. One girl raped, a man killed. Another one dead by suicide.”
Omid’s voice was strangled and his skin pale. “I know.”
“Mommy.” Jojo put a finger against Laurie’s lips. “We all fuck up.”
This wasn’t a fuckup. This was a betrayal of everything important in life. “Honey, he—”
“No, wait! You think Daddy planned this? You think he did it on purpose? Don’t you think that he was just trying to take care of us?”
Laurie’s mouth went dry. Jojo’s words were simple, but the truth in them was huge.
Omid had been doing his best.
His best had sucked. He’d gotten it wrong, so wrong, the worst kind of wrong.
But he’d been trying. The harder he’d tried, the more he’d stressed out. He’d literally killed himself trying to fix things.
Laurie took a breath and then met Omid’s gaze again. His eyes were filled with tears. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
His face was miserable and pale. “I’d do anything to change it.”
“You can’t.”
Jojo squirmed against her but stayed quiet.
“I can’t,” Omid said.
“You’re going to lose your job.”
“Probably, yes.”
“You deserve to.”
Omid nodded. “Without doubt. If they don’t fire me, I’ll resign.”
“And those officers. Our friends.”
“I’ll make sure in the investigation that they go down with me.”
Laurie nodded, the knot in her belly uncoiling just a little. She let the silence sit for a moment as she stroked Jojo’s hair.
Jojo said, “And Kevin? He’ll be okay?”
“Yes,” said Laurie. It had to be true. He had to be okay so Laurie and Jojo could thank him properly, hopefully in media view.
Then she said, “Poor Harper.”
Jojo had told them in the broadest strokes what Harper had said about her stepfather, Andy, about her anger at Jojo for not staying friends with her, about why Harper had chosen Ray, and about how she’d defended him almost up to the last minute.
Jojo had said that Harper was the one who’d raped her.
Incomprehensible.
But you didn’t blame an abused dog for its rage. You just kept yourself out of range of its teeth.
Harper was abused, broken. And she, Laurie, hadn’t seen it. It hadn’t started with the stolen ring and the girls’ breakup—it had started before, of course. Harper had always been a little shattered, in such a charming way, like a music box whose song pl
ayed too quickly, wound too tightly. Laurie had ignored the off-pitch jangle of it, enchanted by its prettiness.
Everyone had overlooked Harper while looking right at her. They’d all let her down. “We owed her better than that.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” Jojo’s voice was stark with grief. “And what will happen with Pamela and Andy?”
Laurie had no idea. “I assume they’ll all get counseling. If I were Pamela, I’d take Harper and leave Andy in the dust. But who knows?”
Jojo’s expression was stiff. “Will Harper go to jail? She won’t survive that.”
Of all people who could, Harper would probably be able to—she obviously had the will to survive, no matter what. “I hope not, sweetie.”
Omid spoke. “She’ll probably get probation. She didn’t know about Zach, and the only one who could testify against her is dead.” His gaze darted toward Laurie, and she could see he regretted saying it.
She’d killed a man tonight.
She hadn’t lost her temper—she hadn’t done something she regretted. She’d protected her daughter.
The memory of the 911 call she’d gotten just days before flooded her—not Jojo’s, the one right before it. The one in which the man had gone to sleep, forgetting that his daughter was safe with her mother. He’d called 911, thinking he’d lost her.
Laurie had lost her child for only a tiny amount of time and she’d almost gone crazy. Parents who lost their children permanently—it was unfathomable.
No matter what the story was, Pamela would soon be so, so happy to have her arms around Harper.
Zach’s mother would never hold him again.
Laurie pressed a kiss against Jojo’s hair and gloried in the fact that Jojo didn’t pull away. “I love you,” she said to Jojo while looking at Omid.
If she had to, she’d pull the trigger all over again.
* * *
* * *
JOJO could feel her brain start to sputter back to life. Something about the shock and the Taser and the fight and the gunshot—she’d barely been able to speak as Steiner took their preliminary statements in his car.
But now the three of them—her, Mom, and Dad—were in Mom’s car, finally alone. Mom sat behind the wheel. Even though she’d started the car, she made no move to put it into reverse. Jojo sat beside her, Dad in the back.
