Justice (The Galilee Falls Trilogy)

by Jennifer Harlow

  “He won’t be collecting it this time,” I say. “Anything on Jane Smith yet?”

  “Just the bra and condom wrappers. We lifted prints from every surface but no hits. She doesn’t have a criminal record. Came up empty on the P.O. Box as well.”

  “And the search for Ryder?”

  For the first time he looks away from me. “They’re, uh, calling it off today.”

  “What?”

  “It’s been five days and they still haven’t made it to the old Siegel station. If he was alive down there, he isn’t anymore. When it first happened we combed the tunnels. He couldn’t have gotten past us.”

  “I’d feel better if I could, I don’t know, spit on his body or something.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, he’s buried under a ton of rocks and dirt in the Ward. I’m sure every day someone will piss on his grave whether it’s intentional or not.”

  “That does make me feel better,” I say with a smile. “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t smile back. His back straightens, and his face turns professional. I spin around. Dobbs escorts the frail Lucy in. She looks horrible. Her forehead has a bandage, she has a black eye and bruising on the right side of her face, and her arm is in a sling. Both are as surprised to see me as I am them. “Miss Joanna!” Dobbs says, as he walks over. He hugs me, something he’s never done before. I squeeze back. I try to meet Lucy’s eyes, but she gazes down at the floor. Dobbs releases me. “How are you?”

  “Good. Fine. No problems.”

  Mirabelle walks over to Lucy. “Miss Helms, thank you for coming down. We’ll try to make this as easy for you as possible.”

  Her hand clenches into a fist. “Okay,” she says quietly. Mirabelle gestures toward the interview rooms, and Lucy slowly walks over. She refuses to look up as she passes me. For some reason this stings.

  It must show, because when she’s out of earshot Dobbs says, “Don’t be upset with her, Miss Joanna. She’s just having a difficult time. She didn’t start speaking again until this morning.”

  “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  “An old friend from Independence is flying in to take her back there.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until she wishes to return. If ever,” he says, almost haunted by the prospect. My heart goes out to him. He’ll have no one to serve in that huge mansion. We were the closest thing to family he has. “Is there somewhere we can talk that’s more private?”

  I don’t like the sound of that. “Okay,” I say. I lead him into the nursery and shut the door.

  “I don’t know who else to speak to about this. I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a matter of life or death.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s Master Justin,” he says. “I’m frightened for him. He’s…I’ve never seen him like this before.”

  “Well, what—what’s the matter with him?” I’ve been trying in vain not to think about him the last few days. I’m glad I said what I did, but his expression right before he left plagues me. He might have broken my heart, but I eviscerated his.

  “Miss Joanna, he just keeps watching home movies and going through the Alkaline file obsessively. He hasn’t slept an hour and refuses to eat. He barely leaves the command center, let alone the house. Every time I suggest he take care of himself, he just walks away without a word. And Miss Lucy, he won’t even look at her. I’ve known that boy everyday of his life. I know he’s slipping away, and I feel so helpless. It’s breaking my heart. Please help us.”

  “Do you think he’d hurt himself?”

  He’s unable to talk for a moment, then says, “I honestly don’t know. He phoned his attorney to amend his will.” Dobbs’ look of hopelessness rocks me. “Please, Miss Joanna. I don’t know what else to do.”

  Neither do I. My first impulse is to jump in a car, drive to the mansion, and not leave until I draw out a smile. But the image of him in that tunnel as I’m screaming at him to stop makes my stomach clench. “I’m sorry he’s upset, I really am. He’s been through a lot, I know that. I just, I can’t see him right now. I can’t. I don’t…have it in me. I don’t. He’s strong. He’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”

  I rush out of the room from his disbelieving expression like the coward I am.

  ***

  I stare out the window of the taxi at the nearly full moon, willing myself to unknot all my limbs and to push all thoughts of Justin slowly killing himself in that cold mansion away. The words, “He’ll be fine…” cycle through my head as if repetition will make it so. I’m so deep in thought and wound up that when Harry takes my hand, I jump.

  “Sorry,” he says, as startled as I am. “Sorry. Are you all right?”

  “Sorry,” I say with a chuckle. “I was just thinking.”

  “You’ve been out of sorts since we left the station.”

  “I just, I’m fine.” I smile and turn back to my window. “I’ll be fine.”

  Fine. What a strange, overused word. We’re all always fine, even when we don’t mean it, and we rarely mean it. People let us get away with it because they really don’t care. Most of the time they’re too damn busy dealing with their own fine and don’t give a damn about yours, even when you’re drowning. One of the reasons I’m falling, if I’m not already in love with Harry is that he never settles for fine.

  He puts his arm around me, pulling me toward him. I rest my head on this shoulder. “Tell me.”

  “Dobbs brought Lucy to the station. She’s in a bad way. They all are. Especially…you know. He just sounded so scared.”

  “What about?”

  “He said Justin’s not eating. Not sleeping. He’s…it’s not good.”

  “Is he a danger to himself?”

  “I—I don’t know. I mean, of course he’s depressed. Anyone would be. But he’ll be fine. Just fine.”

  I don’t even convince myself, let alone him. Harry is silent for a moment and I’m afraid to look at him in case I’m greeted by disapproval or disgust. Not that I don’t deserve them. “Driver,” Harry finally says, “we’ve changed our minds. We need to go to 3377 Kane Lane in the Gardens. And please hurry.”

  The driver nods and turns the car around. I sit up. “What are you doing? We can’t go. We’ll miss our flight.”

  “There are other flights.”

  “No, that’s not fair to you.”

  “I’m not spending my vacation with you like this. You’ll spend the entire time worrying instead of relaxing, thinking of him instead of me. Believe me, I’m being selfish.”

  “No. No, Harry,” I say, shaking my head, “I can’t. I can’t face him. I’ll be useless. I’m still too furious at him. I’ll just make things worse.”

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Then either you’re a coward, or you’re just cruel.”

  “What?”

  “One bad decision and you’re ready to chuck it all in. Twenty years, Joanna. That’s longer than most marriages. Does that one bad negate all the good?”

  “I…” I have no idea what to say.

  “If he harms himself, and you don’t at least try to help him, you will never forgive yourself. The guilt will destroy you. Everything he has done, all the sacrifices you both made for the right, will be for nothing.” He takes my hand, looking me square in the eyes. “It’s your job to save people. You take this job so seriously and are so good at it, you take my breath away. It’s what you were put on this earth to do.” He smiles and kisses me. “So do it.”

  Shit. “I hate you.”

  He caresses my cheek with another smile. “I hate you too.”

  ***

  I can feel it the moment I walk in the door. Call it experience or intuition, but I just know there’s something off in this house. It may not be the homiest, but the house never felt this oppressive or melancholy. It’s as if a shade has been drawn, not allowing any light to filter in. Fear and
urgency grip me.

  “Justin!” I shout. Harry walks in behind me. “You check upstairs,” I tell Harry.

  As Harry runs up the stairs, I rush into the kitchen, then the parlor, library, dining room, games room, conservatory, Florida room, study, and finally the living room. Not a trace. Harry meets up with me just as I walk in from the patio. “He’s not upstairs, and the staff seems to be gone as well,” Harry says. We both glance at the fireplace.

  I reach in and trip the switch for the door, and we rush in. There’s no sound except for our footsteps as we run down the ramp to the command center. The computers and lights are on and there’s a red light flashing overhead, but no Justin. What really catches my eye are the three white envelopes and a large binder sitting on the couch. One each to me, Lucy, and Dobbs. As I rip open mine, Harry checks the binder. “It’s an instruction manual for the lab equipment and computer,” Harry says, but I barely register his voice because of the pounding in my ears as I read.

  “Jo,

  You were wrong. You saved my life.

  I’m sorry.

  Love, Justin”

  “Oh, fuck,” I say under my breath as I crumple up the note. My head whips over to Harry. “Call the dispatcher. We need an APB out now!”

  I snatch the instruction manual out of his hands and race over to the computers. He’s even provided the password, “RichBoy.” Harry makes the call, as I start flipping through the book looking for anything of use. There’s just too much information and not enough time. Hell, for all I know he’s done it already. I just stare at the monitor, too panicked to think clearly. He won’t do it. He can’t. I couldn’t bear it.

  “Jo,” Harry says, touching my shoulder. I didn’t even see him come over. “Think. Where could he have gone?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Did he have a favorite spot? The park? His boat? Work?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “You know him better than anyone else. Think!”

  Okay. Okay, I can do this. Rebecca’s house? Possible. The boat? Not as likely. He’d want as little fuss as possible. Wouldn’t want us to be scarred by finding him looking gruesome. And he has super-healing. A gun wouldn’t work unless it was a shotgun to the head. Pills and slitting his wrists are out too, as is hanging, I think. So how the hell… “You know, that might work.”

  “I think I know where he is.”

  We run for the car. Five of the longest minutes of my life later, I’m proved right. Harry drives along Pendergast Bridge in our borrowed car as slow as he can as I scan both sides. We’re about halfway across when I spot a figure in the darkness, almost like a phantom. If I wasn’t looking closely, I’d have missed him. Harry pulls the BMW over, and I barely wait for the car to stop before leaping out.

  If he notices me approaching, he doesn’t let on. He just stares down at the black water, lost in his own personal hell. Cars drive by as if we’re not even here, oblivious or not even caring about the man leaning dangerously on the railing. “Do you need help?”

  His gaze whips in my direction. At first he’s startled, blue eyes wild and frightened, but then I smile and his face falls. He turns back to the abyss, but I keep walking slowly toward him until I’m right beside him, folding my arms on the railing. If I wasn’t up close I wouldn’t recognize him. He hasn’t shaved in a week, his hair is greasy, and dark circles rim his eyes. All the light in him is gone. “You look like hell, rich boy.”

  He still won’t look at me. “How did you find me?” he asks, voice gravelly.

  “I just thought, ‘If I was going to kill myself, where would I do it?’” I say with a small smile. When I don’t get a reaction, I punch him in the shoulder. “Come on, that was a good one.”

  “What are you doing here, Jo?” he growls.

  “Saving you. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

  “I don’t want you to save me.”

  “Tough.”

  His face contorts in rage, and he shoves me away. “Get the fuck out of here!”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Harry move forward, but I hold out my hand to stop him. My eyes never leave Justin. “You know there’s no way in hell that’s happening.”

  “Why?” he spits out. “You hate me. I—I lied to you. I almost got you killed, for Christ’s sake! Everything! Everyone I touch, I destroy. Rebecca! Daisy! Lucy! You! I’m toxic, Jo. I can’t,” he says, voice cracking, “I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.” He turns back to the edge, quivering with emotion. I’m losing him.

  “If you do this, Alkaline triumphs. This is what he wanted. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t you dare let him win.”

  “Jo, I can’t…I can’t…” He’s close to hyperventilating and almost doubles over.

  I take a deep breath to calm myself before stepping back over to him. I don’t say anything for a moment, just let him get used to my presence again. “You know, people have asked me, rather rudely, through the years why you and I are friends. They assume it was because you were rich and gorgeous, and I was madly in love with you. I didn’t blame them because if I was them I’d think the same thing.” I shrug. “But actually, I stuck around in spite of that stuff. I hate parties and designer clothes. And you are nice to look at, but I could have done that through magazines. And as for the loving you thing…I hated the fact you didn’t love me back. There were even a few times when I considered cutting all ties because it just hurt too much.” He opens his mouth to respond, but I nod, “I don’t hold that against you. I never did.”

  “I really had no idea,” he says. “I am so sorry.”

  “That one’s not on you, rich boy. You couldn’t help it anymore than I could. So no, I’m not your friend for anything I could get out of you. And I’m not your friend because of what happened right here twenty years ago. I know without a doubt had we met at the movies or at the park or something, we’d still be friends.” I catch his gaze and for the first time he meets my eyes. “Because in spite of the lies, the whole unrequited love thing, all of it, I know you. I know your heart. I know your soul as well as I know my own.” I take his hand. “Because, you see, that’s what they don’t understand. We’re the same. Same heart, same soul. Two halves of the same whole. And nothing, nothing will ever change that. I know you’re hurting. I know how attractive eternal nothingness is. I do. But I also know you are no coward. You are a fighter. A survivor. A hero. And…a lot of the time that sucks. It’s painful, hard. And not fair. But what is? You are the Champion of Galilee. The righter of wrongs. Defender of the weak. This city needs you. I need you. Because I know as long as I have you, I can survive anything. And if that’s true for me, then it’s true for you. I trust you, and I love you.” I cup his hand to my cheek as I sniffle. “And shame on you if you throw that away.”

  He bursts into heart-wracking sobs and falls into my welcoming arms. We cling to each other for dear life, crying on each other’s shoulders like we’ve done a hundred times before, and will continue to do until the day we die. He lets go first, and we wipe each other’s tears off, chuckling.

  “I love you,” he says.

  “I love you too.” I kiss him chastely on the lips. “Now, let’s get off this fucking bridge.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Villains

  Why has my life become all about déjà vu?

  Here I am at a gala event, dressed to the nines in a black cocktail dress watching the society set walk past me with looks of pity, and my boyfriend is a no show. I’ve called him twice and no answer. This is getting a little old.

  I wait outside the hospital ballroom in the hallway scanning the crowd. Someone is always throwing a charity event for the hospital so they converted a meeting room into a ballroom some years back. I’ve come to this hospital for parties more than as a patient. The usual suspects are here, hopefully with their checkbooks, looking pleased until they see me. They have no idea how to react, uncomfortable being what they settle on. No ey
e contact, just half smiles before scurrying into the party. Geez, I survive one little supervillain attack and they act like it’s catching. At least most of the bruises and cuts are covered with make-up, otherwise they’d hiss and cover their faces like a vampire confronted by a cross. This is why Harry needs to get his butt here. The only person willing to speak to me is busy with his charity event.

  Though never busy enough to neglect me. Justin walks out of the ballroom and through the line of well wishers toward me. “Here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I’m about to make my speech.”

  “Crap,” I mutter, not taking my eyes off the end of the hall.

  “He’ll get here, Jo.”

  “Well, he doesn’t exactly have the best track record.” I groan in frustration. “Okay, if he’s not here in five minutes, I’m personally going to track him down, Taser him, and drag his butt here and make him spend all night listening to Bitsy talk about her new bathroom tile.” Justin chuckles. “What?”

  “I pity that man more than words can say.”

  I smack his chest to stop the laughs. “Shut up.”

  The chuckles subside. “Seriously, he’s a good guy who’s probably madly in love with you. He’ll be here.”

  “You think so? I mean about the whole…love thing?”

  When he doesn’t answer right away, I glance at him. He has the most heartfelt, radiant smile on his face as he gazes down at me. “Oh, Jo,” he says, “how could he not be?”

  I smile back. “Thanks.”

  Before he can make me cry, Shannon steps out, harried as usual. “Justin, they’re just about ready for you,” she says before retreating back in.