Chapter Thirty-Eight
THIRTY-EIGHT
From the stoop of the Allards’ house, Finn watches Jo’s dark SUV peel away from the curb. He stands helpless, angry with himself that he didn’t stop her. But it all happened so fast—what was he supposed to do? Tackle her?
He notices a car across the street—a gray late-model Toyota sedan. The kind of nondescript practical car favored by the retirees of Eastbrook. At the same moment that his brain registers that it belongs to his landlady, the driver’s-side window rolls down, and Paula sticks her head out.
“Get in. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Where are we going?” he asks as soon as he is in the passenger seat.
“You tell me. It’ll be easier if you navigate and I drive.” She nods at her phone, which is attached to the dashboard vent. Finn grabs the phone and watches as a small dot travels out of Bethesda. “Are you tracking Jo? How?”
Paula grins. “One of those Apple doohickeys. I duct-taped it to her car while you were inside talking. Now where is she?”
“She’s on the Clara Barton Parkway. Heading toward the Beltway.”
“Hold on,” Paula says. She presses the accelerator, and the Toyota charges up Massachusetts Avenue. “You did it, Finn. You didn’t lose your cool,” she says, taking a sharp left past the Glen Echo fire station. “You just let her talk. I’m so proud of you.”
“It was surreal. I couldn’t believe the things she was saying. Did you catch the conversation?”
“Catch it? I recorded it. Now maybe is a good time to call your detective friend. What was his name?”
“Detective Aziz.”
“You can tell him we have the whole thing on tape. See if he can meet us.”
“You know where she’s going?”
“My guess is Dulles Airport. They support private chartered international flights. She said she wasn’t going commercial.”
“Okay, so what? I’m going to call Aziz and tell him to go to the airfield? And we’re just going to hope we get to the airfield before her? What if Aziz doesn’t get my message in time? We can’t stop her.”
“I don’t think she’ll make it to Dulles.
I put a small slit in each of her back tires.
” Paula shoots me a look as she merges onto Clara Barton.
“A little risky, I know. Which is why we need to follow her. I figure she’ll be stopping on the side of the road in about twenty minutes. Let’s make sure she has company, huh?”
“You slashed her tires?”
“‘Slashed’ is a very violent word. A penknife, real quick, in and out.” She takes a hand off the wheel and makes a stabbing gesture.
“You know that her tire could blow on the highway, right?”
“I had to do something,” Paula says. “I think you should call the detective.”
Finn dials Aziz’s number and lets out a groan when the call goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a brief message, explaining what happened with Jo, and how they are tracking her now as she drives on the Dulles Access Road, a dedicated highway that leads to the airport.
They drive in tense silence for a few minutes, exiting onto the Beltway and then taking the Dulles Access Road.
Finn thinks about the world of memories Autumn’s laptop contains and how badly he wants it.
There was a time, a few months ago, when the ache of losing her was so sharp that he might have considered making a deal to get it back.
That was during the winter, when it felt like something inside of him had curled up and withered.
But as much as he wants to see those videos and pictures, to read Autumn’s novel in progress, he wants to see justice done even more.
He glances at Paula’s phone in his lap only to see that the dot has stopped moving.
“She’s stopping,” Finn says. “On the side of the access road, where the toll road veers away.”
“Can you send the detective a screenshot of that?”
A few minutes later, they come upon two cars pulled over on the right shoulder of the highway. As they slow down, Finn recognizes Jo’s SUV but not the white Kia parked behind it. As Paula pulls up, he sees the Uber sticker in the window.
“She’s getting an Uber to the airport,” he says, unbuckling his seat belt. “You stop the driver. I’ll get Jo.”
He gets out and jogs past the Uber to where Jo is leaning against her car, on the phone, while an older man, presumably the Uber driver, pulls suitcases from her trunk.
From behind him, Finn can hear Paula call, “Sir! Sir!” as she approaches the back of the SUV.
Jo cranes her neck to look at Paula and then focuses on Finn, who is only a few feet away. They lock eyes for a moment, and then Jo takes off running, climbing up the grassy embankment that separates the two highways. “What the…” Finn mumbles to himself.
“Go!” Paula shouts. “Get her! I’m calling nine-one-one.”
Finn takes off after Jo. She’s surprisingly fast, but then he knows she spends hours at the gym and has run several marathons, which he most decidedly has not.
She runs on the grass against traffic, back toward where the two highways diverged.
Cars whiz by at sixty miles an hour. Finn follows, his legs burning, the oncoming traffic whooshing by.
Jo is getting closer to the V formed by the split highways.
She’ll be trapped. But suddenly she jerks left and sprints across the toll road, dodging cars.
Finn holds still as horns blare, only able to half look, sure he is about to hear the crunch of metal hitting flesh and bone.
It’s suicide, he thinks. She’d rather die than get caught.
But he doesn’t hear a crash.
And when he looks for her, he sees that Jo has made it across the highway and is heading toward a cement parking lot. He recognizes the sign from here. KISS they must be in the Metro parking lot, he thinks.
But still Jo keeps begging him to let her go, offering him more and more elaborate deals.
She’s already confessed to killing Autumn.
By every conceivable measure, it is all over, but she won’t stop.
This is who she is, Finn thinks, a woman who has willed her way forward into a life of her own making.
She no longer recognizes the meaning of no.
It is simply an obstacle to work around.
He turns to see an officer coming through the turnstile onto the platform.
“Don’t go,” Jo cries, as Finn stands up. She holds out one hand. “Don’t leave me. You have to help me. It was an accident.”
Finn brushes the dirt from his pants as he turns away. He’s not angry anymore. He’s revolted by this woman, this creature on the filthy cement who has the audacity to ask for his help. He wants to be away from her, as far away as possible.
The officer stops in front of him to confirm his identity and that of Jo. “We got a call from Montgomery County police to hold her.”
“From Detective Aziz?” Finn asks.
“That sounds right.”
Another officer shows up and Finn steps back a few feet to watch the whole scene.
Jo killed Autumn because she thought she was Tori Price, a woman who had the temerity to sleep with her son.
The loss of life is so meaningless he feels like he might crumple into a ball on the ground.
He walks down the stairs to the parking lot, his legs shaking as the adrenaline dissipates.
On the bottom step, he sinks down, too tired to stand.
A familiar Toyota pulls into the lot and he sees Paula get out, dragging Muffinhead by his leash. She walks over to him, the skittish goldendoodle taking shelter behind her.
Finn turns his head to watch the traffic rush toward the airport, jealous of the people who are leaving town, escaping.
At this moment, it doesn’t feel like the pain of Autumn’s death will ever cease.
If he can’t feel the relief now, when her killer is being arrested by the police, he despairs that he ever will.
Paula leans down and pats him. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”
But he doesn’t move. Not yet. Not until he sees the two officers escort a handcuffed Jo down the stairs. He’s never seen this version of Jo—it’s not just her rumpled hair or a dirt-streaked face that’s different, but her defeated posture.
“Muffinhead,” she calls as she passes them. “Please, take care of him!”
An officer opens the back of the marked car, and the other guides Jo inside. They shut the door and Finn wonders if he will ever see Jo Allard again.
Once the police car has driven off, Paula gently pulls Finn up by his elbow. “Why don’t you ride in the back with Muffinhead?” she asks. “He looks like he could use the company.”
Right, Finn thinks. It’s Muffinhead who needs the company.
Finn climbs into the back with the dog, who turns around twice before settling in. He lays his chin flat on the seat, and Finn can’t help but read into it. His people are gone, and he won’t be seeing them again.
“I know how you feel.” Finn leans over and presses his own head against the dog’s soft ears. “But it’s all over now.”