“I’ll find you. I’m not worried.” I slipped the pen back in her bag, and my hand moved to her waist, gently grazing it as I leaned in closer to press my lips against her cheek. Her skin was so fucking soft; the scent of cinnamon was extremely strong, and I remembered it from the whiff I’d gotten in the hallway. I kept my mouth on her for a second longer and pulled back. “Get home safely.”
Her cheeks were now a deep red, and she turned once again, giving me her back to hurry down the steps of the underground station.
I watched until she disappeared around the corner, her feet practically running.
Twelve
After
Ashe
I followed the police sergeant’s instructions, heading toward Commonwealth Avenue, and I was more than a block away when I saw the police lights flashing up ahead. The building, like the others on this street, was higher end with a doorman that required a full check-in process before anyone entered the elevator, where Jane Doe had been found.
The lobby was taped off. Officers were swarming the area, and onlookers and several news reporters with cameramen were trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside.
I flashed my badge at a group of officers who were standing guard and ducked below the tape, showing my identification once more to get through the lobby door. I immediately noticed the doorman off to the side, getting interviewed, several residents going through the same thing as they stood in different sections of the large, open space.
The door to the elevator was open, a forensic analyst inside. His collection bags were spread out on the floor, where he would make sure every inch of the interior was dusted for DNA.
“Flynn,” I said to him as he knelt next to the sheet-covered body. I waited for him to look at me before I added, “I’m the lead detective on the case. Tell me everything you’ve found so far.”
“The doorman discovered her about an hour ago and called 911. The elevator door had opened in the lobby, and her blood had come trickling out. The doorman said she’s not a resident and that she hadn’t come here during his shift, but he’s only been on for a couple of hours. I’m sure there’s a call into the employee who was on before him.”
I stood in the entryway, making sure my feet didn’t cross the threshold. “Any word on the cameras?”
“Rumor is, they haven’t been working for twenty-four hours. The whole system is down, and a tech was supposed to come this morning to get it back online. I guess he hasn’t shown yet.”
“Coincidence or premeditated?”
“You know this business, Detective. A case could be made for both.”
There was commotion behind me, and as I turned around, a set of reporters was getting too close to the glass door and being escorted away.
I faced the elevator again and said, “Talk to me about Jane Doe.”
He pulled the sheet back, showing me her face and auburn hair, and I mentally scanned the department’s database, not recognizing either.
When I nodded, he returned the sheet to where it had been and said, “Ms. Doe was shot in the clavicle. She didn’t have a purse on her, and there’s no major identifiable marks from what I can tell so far. We’ll run her prints when I get to the station.”
“Let me know the second you find anything.”
I was just taking a step back when he said, “There is something you should know, Detective.” He grabbed the middle of the covering and moved it over the side of her body.
What was revealed was a sight that I would see when I closed my eyes tonight. I never saw the cases that ended happily, the ones where justice was found. It was the horrific, gruesome ones that kept me up at night.
Like this one.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Fuck me.”
“If I had to guess, she was about twenty weeks along.”
Thirteen
Before
Pearl
I sat in the corner of the train, the rattling of the undercarriage shaking me in my seat. The bag of leftover pies was on my lap, and I lifted the corner of one of the to-go containers, picking off a piece of the crust. It was as delicious as it had been moments ago when Ashe and I shared the slice at the diner. Buttery. Flaky. Nothing like the store-bought pumpkin pie I’d been buying for the last few holidays since Gran could no longer bake.
I took one more bite and shut the lid, holding the bag close to my body. As I chewed, only one thought was in my mind.
Ashe.
He was like a rainstorm that came through the city in the middle of winter, the precipitation and thunder so untimely for that season. I’d hidden from storms my entire life, never going outside to let the water fall on me.
Tonight had caught me by such a surprise, and even though I had wanted to run many times, I hadn’t. I’d felt each drip, my hair getting soaked.
But I’d enjoyed myself.
I’d even smiled more than once.
One was even growing over my face now as I pressed my hand against the cheek he’d kissed, the spot still warm, as though his lips had just left.
Just as I was pulling my fingers away, “Ruggles Station,” was announced through the loudspeaker.
Once the train stopped and the door opened, I rose from my seat and moved across the platform and out onto the sidewalk in front.
Unless it was the very early hours of the morning, this section of Roxbury was always busy. Groups were huddled in doorways, on the benches, and in some cases, even in the middle of the street. I’d spent half my life in this neighborhood, walking back and forth to the train and the grocery store, that so many of the groups knew my face. They knew I wasn’t a prostitute or an addict trying to score. I was just a girl trying to get home after a long day. Aside from some whistling and catcalling, which happened almost every night, I was able to get to our building, unbothered.
I opened our apartment door only a few inches when I heard, “Hi, dollface,” from the living room.
I set both bags and my coffee on the counter and took the seat next to Gran on the couch. “How was your day?” I asked, kissing her cheek.
“My day?” She grinned and reached for my face. “No, baby, how was yours? Tell me all about tonight’s performance.”
My hands wrapped around the top of her arm, her scent filling me as I rested against her shoulder. I didn’t need the comfort—not tonight—but this spot certainly gave me that. I had fallen asleep in this exact position more times than I could count.
“It went great. Everyone, for the most part, made their cues, and the audience was so attentive and complimentary. Wardrobe worked extra hard to assist us with each change, and the lighting and set crews were outstanding. It went smoother than the show you had seen on opening night.”
With her hand still on me, she turned my chin, so I was gazing at her. “You look and sound happier tonight—happier than you have been in a long time.” She rubbed my cheek, and I felt her bent fingers, her pain too intense to straighten them.
Instead of commenting, I asked, “Are you hungry, Gran?”
“No, dollface.”
“Not even for something sweet?”
She continued to stare at me, her wrinkled lids hanging over her eyes. “You brought home dessert? That’s not like you.”