Distortion: Moonlighters Series: Book Two, Page 2

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen any.”

  “Then you may have to paint this whole room.”

  She looked around at the dingy brown paint. “Can you believe somebody actually chose this color?”

  “Forty years ago it was popular.”

  “I’ll just paint the whole room.”

  “Or move a piece of furniture in front of this patch-up job,” Jay said. “The main thing is just to get you settled before the baby comes.”

  Before the baby comes. That phrase lodged in her heart, quickening her pulse. Would she be ready in time? She went into the room across the hall, the one she had chosen as the nursery. It was empty. She had nothing to offer her child. No diapers, no shoes, no little outfits. And it wasn’t like her friends were the type who gave showers. Some of them didn’t even take showers. She would need a rocking chair, a crib, a changing table . . . but all those things cost money.

  She jumped when she realized that Cathy stood behind her. Her beautiful sister. Cathy’s long black shampoo-commercial hair, her dark beach tan, and her glamorous eyes were no worse for having spent the day sweating.

  “Holly, what’s wrong?” Cathy asked.

  Holly blinked back the mist in her eyes. “Just thinking about getting this place ready before the big day.”

  “You still have three months. It’ll be fine. This place is a lot nicer than where you moved from.”

  “Yeah, but let’s face it. I couldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t a foreclosure. And it’s the worst house on the street. It needs so much work.”

  “Well, the work’s going to get done. You’ll be in a safer area. And you’ll own it.”

  She sighed. “I couldn’t have done it without Juliet and Bob. But he was really irritated with me today.”

  “He just seemed distracted.”

  “By the absurdity of my being a mother?”

  “No, probably by a patient or something. You know him. He’s a great surgeon because he completely focuses on his work. He was just focusing on getting the job done. We all wanted you in this place.”

  Holly went into the little bathroom next to the bedrooms. Looking in the mirror was such a surreal experience these days. She hardly recognized herself. “How will I ever get ready to have a baby?”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Holly breathed a laugh. “Juliet wants me to go to church with her Sunday. It was kind of a condition of her helping me get the house.”

  Cathy looked at the floor. “Yeah, I kind of figured she’d pull something like that.”

  Holly shrugged. “You know, it’s not going that bothers me so much. I mean, I can get up Sunday morning and meet her at the building. I can walk in and sit for a sermon. It’s not that.”

  Cathy lifted her eyebrows. “Then what is it?”

  “It’s that I’m pregnant and I’m not married, and I’m walking into a place where people don’t take well to that kind of thing. At least my friends don’t judge me. I just have this vision of walking in there trying to act all pious, like I belong, and having everybody in the congregation turn around and scream, ‘Fraud!’ ”

  Cathy chuckled. “It won’t be like that. They’ll probably just ignore you.”

  “Yeah, there’s that too.” Holly looked back in the mirror, rethinking the neon pink ends on her blonde hair, the tattoo of a huge butterfly on her left bicep, and the smaller butterflies on the inside of her arm down to her wrist . . . all things she’d done to make the statement that she was different than the preacher’s kid she used to be who’d sat like a robot in church. But if she had to go Sunday, she’d rather blend in.

  Cathy sighed and put her arms around her, smiling at Holly’s reflection in the mirror. “Maybe it’s changed since we were kids.”

  “Juliet says it has. That her church is full of oh-so-wonderful people.”

  “And if anyone’s mean to you, they’ll have her to contend with. It won’t be bad.”

  “Then why don’t you come?”

  “Juliet isn’t holding anything over my head.” Cathy laughed, let go of her. “Maybe I’ll go anyway.”

  Holly turned, hope rounding her eyes. “Would you? It would make me feel so much better if you were there, just to have someone on each side of me. Maybe they wouldn’t notice that I have this bump.”

  Cathy touched Holly’s stomach. “That ‘bump’ is a precious child.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m the one who feels him kicking.”

  “Could be a girl.”

  “So what do you say? Will you come?”

  Cathy just sighed and looked at her for a long moment.

  “Michael can come too,” Holly added. “We could pack a pew.”

  Cathy laughed at the reference to those revivals their father used to do, where each church member was tasked with filling up a pew each night. Holly remembered inviting everybody who came into the Laundromat next to the church, just so she could have her own pew. She promised them there would be cheesecake and door prizes, but none of them ever came.

  Michael stepped into the doorway, and Cathy’s face lit up. “Michael, what do you say? Holly wants us to go to Juliet’s church with her Sunday. Wanna come?”

  “Sure. Count me in.” He slid his arms around Cathy’s waist, kissed the top of her head.

  Holly glanced away. She was happy for their relationship, but it sometimes reminded her that she’d done everything backwards. She should have found someone like Michael before she got pregnant. Now the chances of finding a soul mate had gone down drastically.

  But wasn’t that how everything in her life worked?

  “So you’ll come?” Holly asked.

  Taylor Swift’s chorus of “Romeo and Juliet” rang out suddenly from the kitchen—Holly’s ringtone for Juliet. “My phone!” Holly pushed past Cathy and headed for the kitchen. “They’re probably on their way back,” she said as she grabbed the phone and swiped the screen to answer. “Hey, Sis, what’s up?”

  She heard screaming, sobbing, and Juliet blurted out something that Holly couldn’t understand. Pressing the phone to her ear, she shouted, “Juliet, what is it?”

  More hysterics. Holly motioned for Cathy to turn off the radio, and she put the phone on speaker. “Juliet, I can’t understand you. Speak slower.”

  “He shot him!”

  “Shot? Who?”

  Suddenly everyone was around Holly. Cathy and Michael and Jay, staring at her, waiting to hear what was going on. Michael spoke up. “Juliet, who shot who?”

  “Bob. At the U-Haul place. This man . . . he just drove up and just . . . shot him.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Yes, they’re here . . . I mean, there.”

  Cathy grabbed Holly’s hand to pull the phone closer. “Juliet, where are you?”

  “They’re taking me to the police station. But Bob’s still there, on the ground in the parking lot, and they won’t take him to the hospital. I begged them to. They could save him . . . give him blood . . . they’re saying he’s dead but they haven’t even tried . . .”

  Holly gaped at the others, speechless. Mouths fell open, hands went to their faces.

  “Honey, we’re coming,” Cathy said. “Do you know what precinct?”

  They heard Juliet asking the cop transporting her, then she came back to the phone. “The main one. My car. I don’t know what they’re going to do with it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll meet you there,” Cathy said. “Honey, it’s going to be all right.”

  “No, it’s not!” Juliet cried. “They won’t even put him in an ambulance. They’re just leaving him there . . .”

  Holly covered her mouth, unable to stand it. Cathy looked white. Jay had his splayed hand in his hair. Michael said, “Juliet, we’re on our way over. Just hold on.”

  Holly grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. “Let’s go!” she cried. “Who’s driving?”

  “I am,” Cathy said.

  Jay stopp
ed her. “What about the kids?”

  “What about them? Zach is babysitting. They’re fine.”

  “But . . . what if they hear about this on TV? Another murder in the family. Jackson’s over there with them. It’ll terrify him. And Zach and Abe . . . he’s their father!” His face twisted. “How could this happen to our family again?”

  Holly rolled her hands into fists. The thought of her nephews suffering penetrated her panic. “Why don’t you go over to Juliet’s and keep them occupied?”

  Jay hesitated. “But I want to go be with Juliet too.”

  Cathy grabbed up her bag and took out her keys. “Jackson’s your son—don’t you want to be with him right now? Besides, I’m an attorney. Juliet needs me. And Michael will be helpful at the police department, so he needs to come.”

  “I’d get the kids,” Holly said, “but I’ll be a basket case. I won’t be able to hide anything from them.”

  “She’s right,” Cathy told her brother. “She’s too emotional.”

  “Okay, I’ll go,” Jay said. “But keep me informed of every little thing. I mean everything. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, we will,” Cathy said. “Just hurry.”

  The moment Holly and Michael were in the car with Cathy, she punched her accelerator and flew to the police precinct.

  CHAPTER 4

  Time moved like still frames in a blurry slideshow: the white Camaro, Bob on the ground, police lights flashing, fluorescent lights in the precinct, painted cinder-block walls. Juliet was freezing. It must be twenty degrees in the interview room . . . but that was impossible. This was Florida, and it never got down to twenty. Especially not in August.

  She had called her family from the police car, but she couldn’t remember what she’d told them.

  The door flew open, and Cathy and Holly burst in. Only two years younger than Juliet, Cathy always looked so polished and stoic and ready, as if she got up every morning prepared to fight an epic fight. Holly, on the other hand, looked as if she’d just staggered in from a rave, her blonde and pink hair stringing into her face and her pregnant belly straining against her T-shirt.

  They both burst into tears as they threw their arms around her. “Are you all right?” Cathy asked. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” Juliet muttered. “He didn’t come near me. I don’t think he even got out of his car. Just shot Bob and drove away.”

  “Did he try to rob him?” Cathy asked.

  Juliet shook her head. “I don’t think he touched him. I heard the shots. Saw the handgun.”

  “Did he say anything?” Holly asked.

  “I didn’t hear it if he did. It all happened so fast. I knew that place was dangerous. I never should have rented the truck there.”

  “You’re freezing,” Cathy said, shedding her sweater and putting it around Juliet’s shoulders. “You’re in shock.” She slid her chair next to her sister and put her arms around her to warm her up.

  “The boys,” Juliet said. “They were expecting me home.”

  “Jay went over to your house,” Cathy said. “He’s keeping the boys away from TV until you get home.”

  Juliet nodded. “Okay, good. He . . . he didn’t tell them . . . about the shooting, did he?”

  “No, of course not,” Holly said. “Jay knows better than that. We’ll let you do it when you’re ready.”

  Juliet’s vision blurred, and for a moment the world seemed to tilt to the left.

  “You have blood on you.” Cathy’s voice seemed far away. “Oh, honey, I should have brought you a change of clothes.”

  Juliet looked down at herself, shaking her head to clear her vision. There was blood on her jeans, her shirtsleeves, her hands. Her husband’s blood.

  Images flashed through her mind of Jackie Kennedy with blood on her elegant suit as her husband’s life drained out of him. The convertible . . . the grassy knoll . . . the book depository . . .

  “I have to change clothes. Can’t let the boys see me. I have to go to your house first, Cathy. Have to borrow something.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve told them everything I know. I want to go back there. To the parking lot.”

  Cathy took Juliet’s face in her hands and made her look into her eyes. “Honey, we can’t go there. That’s not where you need to be.”

  “But I have to . . . he might need . . .”

  “Sweetie, I know this is hard for you. But they told us when we came in. Bob is dead.”

  “But they didn’t do anything to help him!”

  “Honey, he didn’t have a pulse when they got there. He was gone. You know that, don’t you?”

  Juliet’s head ached. She twisted her face, suppressing the horror of that truth. She did know that. She had held his head herself, had tried to wake him . . .

  Oh, God, why does it have to be true?

  She looked down at the blood on her hands and let out a long, low, broken wail. “Oh, God . . . no!”

  Cathy pulled her into her arms and held her.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Cathy said in a hard whisper. “We’ll get through this.”

  Juliet didn’t want to get through it. She wanted to go backward, through those blurry slides in that random slideshow to the last time Bob had met her eyes and smiled . . .

  When was that? She couldn’t remember.

  “I’ll see if they need you anymore,” Cathy said. “Maybe we can take you home.”

  Juliet racked her brain for that moment when her husband hadn’t been distracted or impatient. Cathy let go, and Holly took her place. Cathy left the room, but Juliet couldn’t remember why. “He was just walking . . . to put the key in the box . . .”

  “I should have done it,” Holly whispered. “I should have been the one to take the U-Haul back.”

  Juliet wasn’t sure why that made her angry. “And what good would that have done?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe . . .” Holly’s voice trailed off.

  Juliet got up. Her legs felt weak, shaky. “Why haven’t they found the guy? I told them everything. If they’d looked for the car when I first told them . . . if they’d come sooner . . .”

  “I’m sure they’re trying to find him,” Holly said weakly.

  “Michael. Where is he? I need to tell him everything. Maybe he could find the guy.”

  “He’s here. He went to talk to his brother upstairs. He’s on this.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Michael Hogan found his brother Max on the second floor of the police department, in the Major Crimes Unit. As he stepped into the doorway, his gaze gravitated to the desk that had once been his. Ironic that it was now his brother’s desk.

  Max was on the phone, jotting down notes, his expression somber. Max’s partner, Al Forbes, a middle-aged man who was overweight and wore a perpetual wince as though in pain, was just getting off the phone. Michael crossed the room. “Hey, Al. Are you two assigned to the Cole murder?”

  “Yeah, it’s ours,” Al gruffed. “We’re trying to track down white Camaros registered in town. Sounds like just another drug murder, though. Probably a crackhead looking for cash.”

  Michael had figured as much. The area where Bob was shot had half a dozen murders every year. “Was he robbed?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Still had his wallet on him. Had cash in it, all his credit cards. Wife was pretty sure the guy didn’t even get out of the car.”

  Michael heard Max hang up, and he crossed to his brother’s desk and sat on the edge. “Hey, man. What can you tell me about Bob Cole’s murder?”

  Max finished writing and looked up at him. “I figured you’d be here. It’s a shame. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “But if there was no robbery, what was the motive?”

  “Who knows? Juliet says she saw the shooter at the gas station earlier. Maybe Bob insulted him or something.”

  Michael hadn’t heard that part. “Did she see them talking?”

  “No, she says they didn’t get close to each o
ther then, either.”

  Michael looked at the back wall, where a line of dry-erase boards held notes for each open case. Bob didn’t even have a column yet. “If she saw him at the gas station, he must have been following them. It wasn’t random.”

  “Might be that he planned on robbing him after he shot him. But when she started screaming, maybe he thought he should just get out of there.”

  Michael considered that.

  Max got up. “Is her family here?”

  “Yeah, they’re downstairs with her now.”

  “She’s pretty shaken up. That family’s been through a lot. Cathy all right?”

  Before Michael could answer, Cathy burst in like she owned the place. “Max, she’s freezing. She’s in shock. Do you have a blanket?”

  “Sure, I’ll get it.” Max got one out of the closet and came back with it. “She can take it home. She’s got blood all over her.”

  “How is she?” Michael asked Cathy.

  “She’s a wreck.” She turned back to Max. “Have you finished questioning her? Can I take her home? She needs to tell the kids before word gets out.”

  Max slid his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, go ahead. I was just following up on some of what she told us. Trying to get the security video at the gas station, talking to the owner of the U-Haul property. Soon I need to develop a more detailed timeline with her leading up to the shooting, and get more info about Bob.”

  “You know where to find her.”

  “Yeah, she can leave now.”

  Michael put his arm around Cathy’s shoulder and realized she was freezing too. The sweater she’d been wearing earlier was gone. She’d probably given it to Juliet. He wished he had a jacket so he could warm her up.

  Michael tried to refocus. “I was with Bob most of the day, helping Holly move. He was all business—spent a lot of time on his phone—but he’s a doctor. That’s his life, right?”

  “Did you hear any of those calls?”

  “No. He took them outside, sometimes sitting in his car. I figured he was talking to patients. You can confirm that with phone records.”

  “Yeah, I’m waiting for those now.” Max looked down at Cathy. “I’m really sorry you’re having to go through this again.”