Love You More (Tessa Leoni, #1)(88)

“Thank you,” I said at last.

She never answered.


We drove in silence for another forty minutes. The snow had finally started, lightly at first, then falling heavily enough that Juliana had to reduce her speed.

At my request, she turned the radio to the news. No word of any officers involved in a situation, so apparently D. D. Warren and her team had survived my little surprise, and had chosen to keep a lid on things.

Made sense. No cop wanted to admit she’d lost a prisoner, especially if she believed she would recapture the inmate shortly. Last Detective Warren knew, I was alone and on foot, meaning D.D. probably had believed she’d round me up within an hour.

Not sorry to disappoint her, but relieved everyone was okay. I’d done my best to rig the twin pressure-sensitive devices to blow back, away from the recovery team and into the relative shelter of the fallen tree. But given that it was a rookie effort, I had no way of knowing how successful I’d be.

I’d sat behind Officer Fiske, both hoping and dreading what would happen next.

SUV slowed again. Juliana had her blinker on, was preparing to exit the highway for Route 9. She’d driven under the speed limit the entire way, eyes straight ahead, two hands on the wheel. The conscientious getaway driver.

Now our adventure was almost over, and I could see her lower lip trembling. She was scared.

I wondered if she thought I’d killed my husband. I wondered if she thought I’d murdered my own daughter. I should protest my innocence, but I didn’t.

I thought she of all people should know better.

Twelve more minutes. All it took to travel back in time, to return to the old neighborhood. Past her old house, past my parents’ shabby home.

Juliana didn’t look at any of the buildings. Didn’t sigh, wax nostalgic, say a single word.

Two final turns and we were there, at my father’s garage.

She pulled over, killed the lights.

Snow was falling heavily now, blanketing the dark world in white.

I gathered up the last of my things, tucked them into the duffel bag, which I would take with me. Leave no evidence behind.

“When you get home,” I said now, my voice surprisingly loud in the silence, “mix ammonia with warm water, and use it to wipe down the car. That will erase any fingerprints.”

Juliana looked at me in the review mirror again, but remained silent.

“The police are going to find you,” I continued. “They’ll hone in on the call I placed to you last night from jail. It’s one of the only leads they have, so they’re going to follow up on it. Just tell the truth. What I said, what you said. The whole conversation was recorded, so you’re not telling them anything they don’t already know, and it’s not like we said anything incriminating.”

Juliana looked at me, remained silent.

“They shouldn’t be able to trace today’s call,” I told her. “Our only point of contact has been someone else’s cellphone, and I’m about to take an acetylene torch to it. Once I’ve melted its circuits, there’s nothing it can give away. So you went for a drive this afternoon. I deliberately chose a location that didn’t involve any toll roads, meaning there’s no way for them to trace where you went. You could’ve gone anywhere and done anything. Make them work for it.”

It went without saying that she would hold up under police questioning. She had before.

“We’re even.” She spoke up suddenly, her voice flat. “Don’t call again. We’re even.”

I smiled, sadly, with genuine regret. For ten years, we’d kept our distance. And would’ve continued if not for Saturday morning and my stupid husband dying on our stupid kitchen floor.

Blood is thicker than water. Actually, friendship was, and so I had honored what I’d known Juliana had needed. Even when it hurt me.

“I would do it again,” I murmured, my eyes locking on hers in the rearview mirror. “You were my best friend, and I loved you and I would do it again.”

“Did you really name her Sophie?”

“Yeah.”

Juliana Sophia MacDougall nee Howe covered her mouth. She started to cry.

I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder and stepped out into the snowy night. Another moment, the engine started up. Then the headlights flicked on and Juliana drove away.

I headed toward my father’s shop. I could tell from the light burning inside that he was already waiting.





33



Bobby and D.D. headed back to HQ in silence. Bobby drove. D.D. sat in the passenger’s seat. She had her hands fisted on her lap, trying not to think, her mind racing anyway.

She hadn’t eaten all day and last night her sleep had been marginal at best. Combine that with the all-time shittiest day of her career and she was entitled to go a little nuts and kiss a married man while carrying another man’s baby. Made total sense.

She leaned her forehead against the cool window, stared at the snow. The frozen flakes were falling heavily now. Obliterating Tessa Leoni’s trail. Snarling traffic. Complicating an already complicated investigative operation.

She’d contacted her boss before leaving the crime scene. Better Horgan hear the news from her than the latest media report, where it was bound to break at any time. D.D. had lost a suspected double-murderer. Taken her out to middle-of-nowhere Mass., where her entire team had fallen victim to a rookie booby trap.