Jessalyn
“No, I definitely got there at nine minutes past seven, no later.”
The detective leaned forward on his elbows. “But how can you be sure of that?”
“Because I looked at my watch. I was supposed to get there at seven, and I was running a little late.”
“And you say Mr. Norquist was wearing nothing but a towel when he answered the door?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see any scratches? Any cuts?”
“Nothing. Sir, we’ve already been over this, and I think that maybe you’re looking in the wrong place. Justin didn’t have anything to do with Amie’s disappearance.”
The detective checked his notes. “You said you met Mr. Norquist for the first time on Wednesday?”
“That’s right.”
“So with respect, you’re not the best person to judge whether the man would or wouldn’t be involved in the abduction of a young woman.”
This officer was really starting to get on my nerves.
He wasn’t listening to most of what I said, and the parts he did take note of, he twisted to fit his own agenda.
Alexa struck me as the wilful, my-way-or-the-highway type, and I wasn’t fond of people like that, but I had to admit she’d been right about the police in this instance.
“With respect, I’ve spent more time with Justin than you have, including almost every minute of the night Amie went missing.”
Of course, he pounced on that. “Almost every minute. So you weren’t with him the whole time?”
“Amie left at 6:27. I saw the surveillance video. And when Justin left at 6:33, her car was already gone. He drove home, which takes about twenty minutes from his office, and when I arrived, he’d clearly been in the shower.”
“So you’re saying it was possible for a stranger to abduct Ms. Carlson in the six minutes she was alone in the parking lot, but it wasn’t possible for Mr. Norquist to carry out a similar act in the sixteen minutes he was unaccounted for?”
Was this jerk actually serious? “Why would he have done that? And where would he even have put her?”
“Did you look in the back of his pickup at any point during your time together?”
My face must have registered my incredulity because the officer shifted in his seat and sighed.
“Are you aware that this isn’t the first young woman associated with Mr. Norquist who’s come to harm?”
“Yes.” And whether I liked it or not, I’d also spent five years married to a lawyer, and Ridge was definitely a man who brought his work home with him.
“Although another man was convicted of that murder, and I believe you mean alleged harm in Amie’s case.
Right now, there’s no evidence of foul play other than the discovery of her purse, and if you don’t get out of here and look for her, maybe there never will be. ”
“Ms. Packer, I’m just doing my job here. There’s no need for hostility.”
“I’m not being hostile. I’m trying to help while you’re coming up with far-fetched scenarios that get us no further forward.”
“Did you know that another of Mr. Norquist’s acquaintances used to drive around with deceased young women in the trunk of his car?”
What? My mouth dropped open, and the detective smiled smugly. Gotcha.
“Am I being detained for any reason?” I asked.
“You’re here as a witness.”
“Then I’m free to leave, and I very much hope you rethink your line of investigation soon. Amie’s life might depend on it.”
I was shaking as I hurried out of the interview room, and I hated that I’d let him rattle me, but my nerves were teetering on a knife-edge after all the business with Ridge. It didn’t take much to unbalance me at the moment. Justin was pacing outside, and he didn’t look any happier than I did.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Can we just get out of here?”
He nodded, his expression tight as he led me to the car and opened my door. I settled into the passenger seat and yanked on the seat belt, cursing as it jammed. Take a breath, Jessie. Finally, I clipped it into place as Justin settled beside me.
“The detective is a fool,” I muttered. “Alexa was right.”
“Don’t tell her that, or she’ll be saying ‘I told you so’ forever.
” Justin heaved out a sigh. “They think I did it. They think I killed Amie in the parking lot and dumped her body on my way home. Fuck.” His knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel.
“They should be out there searching for her, and she could be anywhere by now.”
“They said you might have stashed her in the back of your truck. Is it true you had a friend who did that?”
“What?” Justin’s brow creased in genuine puzzlement, then he nodded slowly. “They must have meant Nolan’s dad. Assholes.”
“Nolan’s father killed a woman?”
“Women, plural. He was a serial killer in Washington. Eddie Calder.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“He got caught when a guy texting and driving rear-ended him. The trunk popped open, a passer-by spotted the dead woman tied up inside, and Calder sped off in a stolen vehicle. After he went to prison, Nolan’s mom took back her maiden name and moved to Pennsylvania.
Nolan was just a kid when it happened. I never even met the guy, and Nolan hasn’t spoken to him in years either.
Blackstone House was a refuge for a whole group of messed-up teenagers, but that didn’t mean we were all monsters. ”
“I kind of wish we hadn’t given Amie’s phone to the police.”
“Me too. But I thought we were doing the right thing.”
“Is it wrong to say I feel relieved? Not about Amie, of course. But if the cops in Maine put the same amount of effort into their investigations as these officers do, Ridge won’t be able to weaponise them against me.”
Justin turned to face me, his expression grave. “I swear I won’t let him hurt you again.”
He offered a hand, and when I took it, he squeezed mine in a silent promise.
I believed him. In that moment, I swallowed down the lump in my throat and believed him.
But if I’d realised how difficult our lives were about to get, I’d have bought him a one-way ticket to a non-extradition country, pushed him onto an airplane, and waved a sad goodbye.
I was up to my wrists in pastry when the doorbell rang—I’d added too much milk by mistake—and Shiro began barking.
When I got stressed, I cooked. When Justin got stressed, he sprinted for ten minutes on the treadmill and then began printing out “Have you seen this woman?” posters with pictures of Amie and a black Toyota Corolla, the same model she’d been driving when she disappeared.
Tomorrow, we’d pin them all over the neighbourhood near the office.
We’d spent several hours searching after we left the police station earlier, starting with the undergrowth around the parking lot and moving outward, but there was no sign of Amie.
Justin had left a message for her parents to call him.
“Can you get that?” I called. “I’m covered in flour.”
With Ridge, I wouldn’t have bothered to ask, but less than a week into living with Justin, I’d already realised how very different the two men were.
I was only the lodger-slash-cook, but he treated me as more of an equal than my husband ever had.
And despite the stressful circumstances, my heart beat faster every time I saw him.
Saylor would lose her mind if I told her.
“On my way.”
Shiro trotted after him, happy to have a new friend, especially one who knew where the leash was, and I soon heard voices, plus a volley of excited yips and a shriek. The loudest voice was Justin’s.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
My gut clenched. Tell me Ridge hadn’t found this place? I wiped my hands on a dish towel, resisted the urge to pick up the bread knife, and hurried toward the hallway, only to bump into a beautiful brunette coming the other way.
“You’re…you’re…”
Either Violet Miller, A-list superstar, or an uncanny lookalike. I’d seen every single one of her movies, even the erotic thriller that Ridge said was practically porn.
“I’m looking for the bathroom. Heck, I shouldn’t have drunk so much coffee.”
“Uh…uh, the bathroom is right there.”
She disappeared, and I walked along the hallway in a daze to find a group of people I’d only ever seen on screen. Alexa was clinging to a blond man’s neck as Shiro bounced in front of them, and I figured the shriek had been hers.
“Was that…? Was that…?” I asked, pointing along the hallway.
“Just get this dog away from me!”
“Shiro, sit,” I told him, and he sat. “That woman looked a lot like Violet Miller.”
“Dawson is dating her,” Braxton Vale said, and he seemed to find the whole situation amusing, judging by his laughter. Ari was trying to placate Alexa.
“The dog’s just playing around, right?” She looked to Justin. “Right?”
Alexa wasn’t convinced. “Have you seen the size of its teeth?”
“Shiro doesn’t bite,” I told them. “He’s confused by the shrieking.”
“Alexa’s scared of dogs,” Justin explained. “She got badly bitten when she was younger.” Then to Alexa, “If I’d known you were coming, I could’ve put the dog in another room.”
“She’ll be okay,” Ari assured him. “Just give her a few minutes. Nolan has a dog, and Shiro can probably smell the treats she keeps in her purse.”
In response, Alexa rummaged in her oversized tote and tossed a handful of snacks across the hallway.
“Fine, whatever, there you go, mutt. Now shoo!”
“What are you doing here?” Justin asked again.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re here to help find Amie. I bet the police haven’t done much, am I right?”
“They think Justin did it,” I blurted.
“Of course they do. He’s the obvious suspect—male, single, the last person to see her, a past murder suspect.”
“But he has an alibi for nearly the whole evening.”
“That’s the difference between them and us—they’d rather keep pushing for a neat, easy solution while we’ll look for the truth. Did you tell them about Brett?”
Justin nodded. “They said they’d check into it.”
“Well, they have ‘procedures’ to follow. We’ll get to him first.”
“Are you saying one of us should go to Utah?”
“One of us already did.”
“We dropped a friend of Jerry’s in Salt Lake City on the way,” Brax said, eliciting a groan from Justin. “The two of them offered to help.”
“This gets worse and worse.”
“Chill out,” Alexa said, finally putting her feet on the floor while keeping a wary eye on Shiro. He wouldn’t hurt her; I was certain of that. “If anyone can get answers, then Barbie can.”
“Barbie?”
“Don’t worry; she’s more like GI Jane.”
“Yeah? That’s what I’m afraid of.”