CHAPTER 48 JESSALYN
JESSALYN
“Okay, but have you considered tossing him onto a boat and setting fire to it, Viking-style?” Saylor asked.
Saylor.
Three days had passed since Ridge’s death, and she was here in Virginia with me.
Only for a week because that was all the time Kevin could get off work at such short notice, and he’d stayed behind to take Tillie to school.
But Justin had offered to pay for the flight because he knew how much I needed a hug from her.
The ticket was business class, and then she got upgraded to first class at the airport, so Saylor was firmly on Team Justin now.
“Is that legal?” Violet asked.
“Freedom of religion is a guaranteed right under the First Amendment.”
“But is Viking a religion?”
“Hold on, I’ll google.” Saylor tapped at her phone. “Oh, shame, it isn’t. We’re back to burial or regular cremation.”
Ridge’s parents were divorced. His dad had died in a golfing accident years ago, and his mom had remarried and moved to Europe when Ridge was a teenager.
She’d come to our wedding, and I thought it was a bit odd when she patted me on the shoulder and wished me luck, but then she’d flown home and I’d never heard from her again.
For two days, I’d agonised over what to say to her because how did you tell a mom her son had died?
In the end, Justin made the call with me.
And she’d asked for the details of the funeral so she could send flowers. That was it.
There were no details.
I’d kind of hoped she might step in and help with the arrangements, but she’d hung up, and now I was supposed to arrange a send-off for a man who’d made my life a misery.
“I guess, but I don’t want to go to a memorial. I know how selfish that seems, but…”
“It isn’t selfish at all. He used you as a punching bag, and when he died, he was trying to break you again. Even his mom thinks he’s an asshole.”
“Could you donate his body to science?” Violet suggested.
“Is that an option?”
“There’s a body farm in Knoxville,” Jerry Knight said as she sauntered into the kitchen. Where had she come from? The doorbell hadn’t rung. Nobody had let her into the house. “They study human decomposition there.”
“And you can just, like, give them your shitty husband?” Saylor asked.
“There’s probably a form you have to fill out. They don’t appreciate it if you just sneak in and leave a body there.”
Something about the way she said that… “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Of course not.” Her indignation was way over the top. “That would be heinous. Look, just cremate the motherfucker, scatter his ashes in a sand trap somewhere, and move on. You got lucky.”
Lucky?
Yes, I suppose I did. This month had been full of dark moments, but now I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
Shiro was back home and tottering around, I had friends new and old showing up in support, and Justin Norquist loved me.
Plus Ridge had continued his run of terrible lawyering by dying without a will, so apparently, I’d inherited a house, a Mercedes, a country club membership, and a boat.
The boat might come in useful if the Viking funeral was an option, but I’d be selling everything else.
Virginia was my home now. Justin was my future.
I fell asleep in his arms each night, and I woke up beside him, although falling asleep took a while because he insisted on gifting me with at least one orgasm and usually two before I closed my eyes.
His bed was now our bed. My clothes were hanging in the closet, and my shampoo was in the shower beside his.
My hair looked amazing. I wasn’t sure I could go back to blow-drying it myself, not when Justin was happy to curl it into perfect beachy waves every other morning.
Would we stay in Greenway Park? Justin said we could move if I wanted to, that he’d live anywhere as long as it was with me, and it was true the place held bad memories.
But it also held good ones. I’d rebuilt my life in that house.
I’d healed my heart in the bedroom, rebooted my career in the kitchen, and found friendship over the dining table.
The neighbours were lovely, and they’d been so supportive of both of us after the showdown in the forest.
I didn’t hate the idea of putting down roots here.
Of spending lazy summer days by the pool, of planting a garden in spring, of kicking through leaves in fall, of curling up on the couch in winter, all with the man I loved by my side. Maybe someday we’d manage to start a family, but for now we had a dog.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Shana
OMG! Thank you for the donation!!!
Uh, what donation? She’d called after she saw the shooting on the news, and I’d had to tell her the story was true, that Shiro had been hurt.
We’d cried together, and she shared my relief when he survived surgery.
Also, when I told her I’d emptied a magazine into the man responsible, she’d told me I should have reloaded.
My heart skipped as Justin walked in.
“Uh, do you know anything about a donation to the dog shelter?” I asked.
He gave a sheepish smile. “Guilty as charged.” Then he did a double take at the sight of Jerry. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“No, you didn’t. But I have a gift from Alexa. Don’t pull that face; it isn’t for you anyway.” She held out a small notebook. “Here you go.”
I flipped through the pages. There was a series of email addresses, plus random words and phrases printed in lopsided handwriting.
“What is this?” Then I realised. “Passwords? To my accounts?”
“Ridge doesn’t get to die and take your hard work with him.”
A piece of paper fluttered to the floor, and Justin picked it up for me. A Western Union receipt, and for the amount of money I’d lost when all of this started.
“Is this…?”
“Saige is very sorry.”
Saige? Wait a second… No. No way. “You mean Saige…Tiffany? But…but I heard her voice, and I didn’t even recognise it.”
“She’s actually a reasonable actress, which is how she managed to screw at least thirty people out of money. This time, she used Justin’s address because—and I quote—at least she wasn’t sending women to some weirdo’s house to get murdered.”
“How did she even know where I live?” Justin asked.
“Apparently, you’re on Mr. and Mrs. Carlson’s Christmas card list, and Amie told them where you moved after the fire. Saige helped to address the envelopes.”
“Damn. Is she still breathing?” Justin asked.
“Of course. She still has to repay all the other poor fuckers she stole from. Which she will; we’ll make sure of it. And on her salary, that’ll take years.”
Jerry stiffened as I hugged her, and so did I when I felt the gun hidden under her jacket. But Jerry wasn’t the enemy. She’d saved Shiro’s life, and she’d fought for Justin alongside the rest of us.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re a good friend.”
“Let’s not go that far.”
“You are. Even if sometimes you don’t believe it.”