Page 19 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘I’m going to solve my own murder.’

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Yellow and black and striped – angry wasp colors – from one hedge to the other, blocking off the driveway, only a glimpse of the house beyond.

CRIME SCENE – DO NOT ENTER.

A cop was posted in front of the tape, screwing his eyes to stare at the approaching cars.

The chief and Jack Finney pulled up ahead, lowering a window to speak to the cop. He nodded, unhooking one side of the tape, letting it fly free, slithering against the road before he rolled it up.

Jack stuck his arm out the open window, beckoned them to follow.

Luke did, releasing the handbrake and rolling forward. Silent. Silent the whole way. Jet had ridden with him from the hospital, couldn’t face the way Mom wept and the way Dad stared, carrying a guilt that wasn’t his. Luke had never been the better option, but today he was, and Jet met his silence with her own. Hecouldlearn to breathe quieter, though.

Their parents were following behind, too close, pulling up and parking beside them. A driveway this big and there was hardly any space, white vans and dark vans and police squad cars all boxed around Jet’s blue truck, trapping it there.

The red-and-white front door was wide open, a rectangular mouth mid-scream, burping human shapes in white plastic suits, blue gloves and blue masks and blue shoe coverings, only a band of flesh around their eyes to prove they were people at all. In and out. Paper and plastic bags marked upwith thick pen that Jet couldn’t read from here, passing them over to disembodied gloved hands waiting inside the vans.

Jack Finney stepped out of the squad car, so Jet did the same, avoiding her parents’ eyes as they emerged too, the twin slams of the car doors burrowing into her chest. She looked ahead. The house Dad had built with love and hard work and a fuck load of money, and now another daughter had died here too. Could it ever be a home again, now that it had been a murder scene?

Jack sidestepped the narrow pathways between vehicles, walking back over to Jet. She pulled the toggle tighter on her gray sweatpants, the cuffs rolled up but still dragging on the ground. Luke’s. The spare gym stuff he kept in his car: sweatpants and a hoodie that swamped Jet. Smelled a little stale too.

‘The crime scene techs will be finished soon,’ Jack said, looking down the line of Masons all the way to Luke, back to Jet. ‘About an hour or so. Then we can get the cleaners in. They’ve already been called, waiting down the street until we’re ready. Get your house back.’

Mom sniffed, her eyes red raw.

Jack looked at her, opened his mouth, but nothing came out, just a glimpse of his bottom teeth. He turned back to Jet.

‘You said you wanted to see it? You sure?’

Jet nodded, jaw tight and creaking.

‘It’s …’ Jack hesitated. ‘There’s a lot of blood. Even some of the officers can’t –’

‘– I want to see it,’ Jet said, rolling up her sleeves to uncover her hands. ‘Please.’

Someone was walking over to them. A person with a face not made of white-and-blue plastic. Detective Ecker, already here, pulling off his shoe coverings.

‘Jet. They said you wanted to see the scene before it’scleared. I really would advise against that, but if you want, I can take you around now.’

‘I want Billy’s da– Sergeant Finney to,’ Jet said, standing taller, still the shortest person here. Jack knew her and she knew him, so maybe he’d tell her more than this stranger would, protocol forgotten because he’d known her since she was in diapers. He couldn’t even escape the crime scene when he went home, his front windows facing it. Maybe that’s why he looked so tired.

The detective studied Jack for a moment. ‘OK, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘No need for full PPE, everything’s bagged. They’re just taking the last photos now. Shoe coverings only. And don’t touch anything until the scene is released.’

‘Detective.’ Jack bowed his head once. ‘Come on, Jet.’

‘Luke.’ Detective Ecker turned to her brother. ‘I know you must be tired, but I didn’t get a chance to take your statement at the hospital. Can I talk to you now?’

Luke coughed but didn’t catch it, something Mom hated. ‘Sure,’ he said, burying his hands in his pockets.

Jet followed Jack, winding around the vans and cars, up to the front door. The tallest trees in the backyard swayed over the house, leaves jeweled in amber and ruby, the colors that brought the tourists and leaf-peepers to Vermont every year. Forests of fire. And Jet’s final time seeing them.

‘Here.’ Jack pulled out two fresh shoe coverings and Jet slipped them on over Luke’s gym socks, staring back at the pumpkin on the front step – a mean grin. Jet lost the staring contest, eyes trailing to the front door, to the splintered wood around the lock, catching on the plastic box mounted above.

‘The doorbell cam,’ she said suddenly, grabbing Jack’s arm. ‘Did they check? Does it show who –’

Jack shook his head, cutting her off. ‘We’ve checked. It doesn’t show. Just you coming home, then later Billy findingyou, kicking the door in. Whoever attacked you, they got in the house another way. Come on.’

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