Page 71 of Remember Her Name

“Andy! Andy!” Evelyn’s feet slapped against the hardwood steps as she raced back toward them, clutching something against her nightgown. Her eyes were wide and terrified, gleaming with tears. “She’s gone. Juliet’s gone. Her bed is still made and…this…this was on top of her pillow.”

The hand pressed to her chest unfurled, trembling so badly that Andrew grabbed her wrist to steady it. “I don’t understand,” he said.

Josie took a step forward, crossing the threshold even though they hadn’t invited her inside. She felt Turner and Gretchen at her back, leaning in to see what was in Evelyn’s palm.

“Is that…” Turner started.

“It is,” Gretchen said.

“Shit,” the two of them said in unison.

A polaroid danced in Evelyn’s quivering palm. Blood smudged the pristine white edges.

Gretchen said, “Can you tell what it shows? Is it as blurry as the last ones?”

“What last ones?” Bowen said, voice sharper now.

Josie’s lips worked to reply, to tell Gretchen that it wasn’t blurred or distorted. This one was as crisp and clear as was possible for a polaroid. But she couldn’t speak. A dizzying wave of pure terror threatened to crash over her and then suddenly, she was floating above the Bowens’ front step, looking down on the five of them as they peered at a polaroid picture of the shelf in hers and Noah’s living room where their wedding picture was displayed.

FIFTY-THREE

Gretchen was talking but Josie couldn’t hear her over the roar of blood in her ears. She was vaguely aware of the odor of burning rubber. Her brain registered how white her knuckles were, wrapped around the steering wheel of her SUV, and how fast the city streets flew past the windows. Her brain told her there was pain in the ball of her right foot as it held the gas pedal against the floor of the vehicle, but she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel her body at all. At least she was in it again. Mostly. Horns blared as she fishtailed through an intersection on a red light.

Gretchen’s body snapped back and forth. Josie was pretty sure she was shouting something, but adrenaline had temporarily suspended her hearing. Her entire physical being had been pushed aside to make room for one driving thought.

Home. She had to get home.

She blasted through another intersection, this time almost hitting a car. The SUV lurched to the side. For a heartbeat, Josie thought it was going to tip onto its side. Then all four tires met asphalt again and in the rearview mirror, she saw smoke billowing from behind her as the SUV strained against its limits.

Home. She had to get home.

She wasn’t operating on any conscious level but something in her told her she was close to her house. Close to finding them—Trout, Trinity, Drake. Alive or dead? Surely Simon Cook and his accomplice, assuming he had one, were no match for Drake.

Noah’s voice cut through Josie’s protective mental cocoon like it was made of air. Gretchen held her cell phone to Josie’s ear, set to speaker. “Josie,” he said, her name on his lips like an answer to all her prayers. She’d known he wasn’t at home. She had left him at the stationhouse. But there had been some irrational part of her that still feared for his life. Josie tried to speak again, like she’d tried on the Bowens’ threshold, but still, nothing came.

Gretchen said, “I don’t think she can talk right now.”

“Josie,” Noah said. “I’m on my way there right now. I’ll meet you.”

There was some short exchange between him and Gretchen and then he hung up. Josie’s mind was stuck on the fact that he hadn’t told her that he’d called Drake and Trinity and that one of them had answered and told him they were fine. So was Trout. Noah would have just said that if he could. It was the only thing she needed to hear. Noah always knew what she needed.

“They’re probably sleeping,” Gretchen said. “Do they sleep with their phones turned off or the sound muted?”

She didn’t know. Why didn’t she know? That seemed like something she should know about her own sister and her fiancé.

As the more rational part of her brain started coming back online, it tried to soothe her by reminding her that their surveillance cameras would have sent notifications to their phones if someone had broken in.

Except someone had broken in to take the photo and no notifications were received, the panicked part of her shouted back. They didn’t have cameras covering every angle outside of the house.

Another drifting turn, tires squealing, Gretchen crying out, and they were on Josie’s street. Noah was there, his vehicle parked diagonally across the driveway, driver’s side door slung open. Josie took the curb next to the driveway, slamming on the brakes so hard, her forehead almost hit the steering wheel. Then she was pounding up her own front steps, closing the distance to Noah as he fumbled with the lock.

Before he could unlock it, the door opened. Noah fell forward, staggering to stay upright. Josie followed, clutching at his waist to stay on her feet. The sounds of Trout’s barks brought her hysteria level down a notch. His nails clicked against the hardwood as he came down the stairs but Josie couldn’t see him because Trinity and Drake stood in the middle of the foyer, both their faces foggy with sleep. Trinity held her phone, blinking as she looked from its glowing screen to them. Behind her, Drake rubbed his bare chest. Half his hair stuck straight up. “What the hell is going on?” he said, voice thick with sleep.

Trout’s body brushed against Josie’s legs, his barks now whimpers.

“Did something happen?” Trinity asked, sounding more alert than Drake. “Is everyone okay?”

FIFTY-FOUR

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