Page 49 of Good Half Gone

When I looked at her in question, she added, “The interview rooms are for more current cases.” When she realized what she’d said, her face went red. She cleared her throat, pressing the button for the second floor.

“You in college now?”

I nodded.

“Good for you,” she said. “What are you studying…?”

We made small talk as she led me to her cubicle. In a flat voice she informed me that Audrain was gone, and that she had a new partner—a guy who transferred from the New York precinct. She didn’t sound too excited about it. I was relieved I didn’t have to see Audrain; his dead-eyed stare unnerved me. I didn’t ask where he was or why, and she never offered an explanation.

I didn’t believe I was going to see my sister that day, and then there she was. I was stunned, my reaction slow to arrive. I choked out, “That’s her…”

Poley asked if I was sure. I was sure. I was looking at myself, my mirror image. We both knew it too—she couldn’t meet my eye after that.

In the Polaroid, Piper was lying naked on her back, eyes closed. I closed mine in response. For a moment the panic swelled so large in my throat I couldn’t breathe.

“Iris, are you okay?”

Poley’s voice pulled me out of it, I cracked my eyes open to see her pale face hovering in front of me like a ghost.

“It’s her…” My voice was barely a croak. She nodded once I forced my eyes back to the photo, focusing on the things around her: the blue-and-white chevron-patterned quilt, the corner of a chipped white dresser. She was on her back, posed. It was awful, she was a child and someone—presumably a man—arranged her limbs while she was unconscious, and took this photo. A dark blur marred the inside of her right thigh: a heart tattoo she’d given herself with India ink. I looked away.

“Are you sure?” Poley’s matter-of-fact face made me feel worse. There wasn’t an ounce of care in anyone in this building. I nod.

“She’s young,” I said. “This was maybe right after it happened…that’s her tattoo.”

Her breasts were modest, the way mine had been four years ago, her stomach unmarred by signs of a pregnancy. I pointed that out, and Poley nodded in agreement.

“The photos are what they use to traffic the girls, but we have no idea of when they were taken…yet.”

“Like a catalog?” I closed my eyes, the image of Piper pin-wheeling in my vision. I would never be able to unsee that. “Oh my god,” I say softly. Four years didn’t make a difference. It hurt just as bad as the first day.

“Yes.”

“Who took the picture?”

“We’re investigating that.” Her words are clipped. She took the photograph back. I was glad to be rid of it.

“That Polaroid is part of a new investigation, so this is good—no, great news, Iris.” She looked like she really believed it. She was more likeable without Audrain around, but sometimes she used his phrases. Audrain always had good—no, great news!

“They’re working out a plea deal with the guy who was found with the photos. He’s not talking until it’s in writing,but we’re pretty confident that he’s gonna sing.” Poley was sitting on the arm of the chair opposite me. It bugged me that she could never commit to sitting all the way down in a chair. Even when she came to Gran’s apartment she perched on the furniture, ready to leave. She was worse than Cal.

“A plea deal?” She’d been gone for five years, and they were just now working out a plea deal for information on a photo that was older than my son. “How many girls were photographed?”

“Twelve. We’ve identified three of them so far—four, with Piper.”

“So you get him to sign this plea deal and then he tells you what he knows about the photos?”

“It’s a start.”

“This started five years ago.”

“I understand how you feel, but police work takes time.”

My laugh was ugly. Did she really expect me to be dancing with glee? The Polaroids came to her because she got lucky. There was no good police work involved.

“What’s the name of the man they arrested?”

I stab her with my eyes as a sick eagerness twists in my belly.

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