Chapter 8 #2
Well I am! But he couldn’t yell at her. He was the one who did the hurting. With Herculean effort, he turned around and left her on the porch, hopefully wanting him as much as he wanted her.
* * *
Juliet was glad she had yoga sessions today especially after more nights of ending her dates with Ryder by necking on the porch.
She needed some distance from him and some normalcy in her life.
When she arrived, she went through the whole guard thing, even more stringent in the two weeks since the ceiling fell. She entered her studio.
At her desk, she looked over at the Renoir print.
No more Rice Prescott to remind her of her up-and-down relationship with Ryder.
It made her incredibly sad yet…she missed his painting there.
Then she thought about the other painting that was hidden under her bed.
The vignettes of her were absolutely lovely—and showed how much he cared about her.
Sighing, she wished they could find their way out of this stalemate.
But how could she ever believe in him again?
Damn it. She checked the time and stood.
She had to stop obsessing over him and left for the common room to meet with Jeff Marshall.
She found the guys already there. “Hi, Oliver. Finn. Heath. Where are the girls?”
“We’re right here.” Daisy and Scarlet followed her in.
“I’m with them.” Jeff’s voice preceded him.
Captain Jeff has a crush on you.
After the newcomers got coffee, they sat with the guys.
“Do you have news?” Heath asked.
“I’m afraid I do. Brace yourselves. We identified one of the culprits. The extended analysis on the blood tests that the Secret Service conducted finally came up with something. They revealed the identity of the man who was up there.”
“Who is it?” Daisy asked impatiently.
He captured Juliet’s gaze. A chill went through her. “It’s Joey, your brother, Juliet. It was his blood. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes teared. She couldn’t help it.
Oliver stood and took the empty seat next to her. He grasped her hand. Seated on the other side, Finn did the same.
She looked down for a few seconds, then she raised her head. “Did you arrest him?”
“No, we can’t find him.”
“Do my parents know?”
“No, they don’t. First off, it took the Secret Service two weeks to get to do the test, trace it, then write a report.
I called several times but apparently there was some bureaucratic bungling.
I didn’t find out the results until this morning.
Second, I thought you might like to be with them when I inform them. ”
“Yes, I would. When?”
“Do you have a yoga class now?”
“Not for a couple of hours. I had a lot of paperwork to catch up on so I came in early.”
“Do you want one of us to drive you, Jules?” Daisy asked.
“No, I’ll go with Captain Jeff.”
Somebody chuckled.
“I mean Captain Marshall. My mind’s muddled, I guess.”
“Understandable. And it’s just Jeff. Let’s go.”
When they were on their way, Juliet tried to distract herself from the dark moment. “I’ve never ridden in a police car.”
“I can turn on the siren if you want the whole effect.”
She managed a chuckle. “No thanks.”
They talked a little bit about Joey and by the time they reached her parents’ house, she was calmer. They pulled into the driveway of the place she’d been born.
She touched his arm before they exited the car. “My mother will cry, Jeff. Maybe even my father.”
“I’m so sorry for your family.”
She got out of the car, dreading this.
* * *
Jeff Marshall followed Juliet when she walked inside her childhood home without knocking. The scents of dough and sugar filled the air. She called out, “Mom, Dad?”
Nothing. Then, a rumbling came from the back of their house. Juliet and Jeff headed to the kitchen.
“What’s going on, dear?” the woman, Jacquie Lockwood asked from the foot of a staircase.
Jim Lockwood came down behind her.
Juliet narrowed her eyes. “Did we interrupt something?”
“None of your business,” her dad said, putting his hand on her mother’s back.
Jaquie caught sight of Jeff. “And who is this?”
“This is Captain Marshall. He’s heading the investigation into finding the culprits at the collective.”
“Is there news?”
“Yes, Mrs. Lockwood, there is.” Jeff’s tone was serious. “Let’s sit down first.”
“Of course. Shall I make coffee?”
“No thank you, ma’am.” Jeff knew the coffee would go untouched.
All four of them dropped into chairs in an alcove of the kitchen with the window open and the sun shining in. It was too nice of a day for what was about to happen to Juliet’s parents.
Her father held her mother’s hand on the table. They both must sense he had bad news.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood, I’m sorry to tell that your son Joey Lockwood is one of the culprits in the incidents that have been happening at the collective.”
They both gasped. Finally, Jaquie said, “Our Joey?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What did he do?” her father asked.
“Two weeks ago, the ceiling collapsed in the common area of the collective. The incident was perpetrated by your son.”
“We know about the incident. Juliet was hurt. But our son did it?” Her gaze transferred wildly to Juliet. “Tell me this isn’t true, honey.”
“I’m sorry Mom, but Joey is responsible for the ceiling falling.”
“How do you know it was Joey?” Jim asked.
“There was blood at the scene,” Jeff put in. “Some beams had been sawed up there. We just got the results back. It took so long due to some mix up at the lab.”
Her mother grasped onto Juliet’s hand. Both women got tears in their eyes. Juliet’s father swore. Then he asked, “Did you take Joey in?”
“No, Mr. Lockwood, we can’t find him. One of the reasons I’m here is to ask if you’ve heard from him.”
Both shook their heads.
Then her father’s brow furrowed. “Something did happen, though. Last Wednesday. Remember, Jaquie?”
Her mother’s face paled.
“What is it?” Jeff asked.
Her father answered. “Three nights ago, the lock was jimmied on the side door of our house.”