going on. I’ve got to—” I gestured toward the house.
“Right, yes, go.”
I went in the front door, which was, thankfully, unlocked, and headed straight for Fee’s office. She greeted me with another bright smile, and it made me tired to see it, as it felt so much more like a barrier than a welcome.
“Good morning, Emma—” she trilled.
“Fee, I’ve got to use the phone right away. There’s an emergency.”
Bless Fee, she shoved the phone right toward me without a second’s hesitation. “What is it?” she asked as I began to dial.
“I think Justin is dead.”
“You can’t be serious.” She put down the file she’d been reading.
“Yes.”
“Dear God.” Fee crossed herself. “Where is he?”
“He’s—hello? I need some help, right away!” I told the 911 operator. “Police and an ambulance—I think he’s dead. Pulse—no, I didn’t get a chance. Stone Harbor, the Chandler House, two Chandler Street, the far end of the common off Water Street. I don’t know how. I don’t know when—what? Well, it’s”—here I snuck a look at Fee, then turned away slightly—“it’s the smell that makes me think so. Emma Fielding. Right, I’ll be here. Please. Hurry.”
I hung up and saw how strangely Fee regarded me. “I’m okay,” I said. “I guess I’d better go wait outside, for the police.” I lowered and rubbed my head, trying to collect my wits, trying not to think about poor Justin.
“Emma!” Fee almost shouted. I looked up, alarmed.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I thought you were—” She darted forward and closed the file that had been sitting open on her desk, sweeping it away from me, keeping her gaze level with mine the whole time. “I thought you were going to pass out there, for a minute.”
It was such an obvious lie and she was so clearly trying to keep me from seeing what was in that file that I was at a momentary loss how to answer. “No. No, I’m fine. I’ll just go….” I hooked my thumb toward the door and tried not to stare at the file that she held, awkwardly, casually, behind her hip. “I guess you’d better call some folks. Aden, I suppose, and—”
“Oh no! Aden won’t like this at all,” she said quickly. I was struck by the dread in her voice, which seemed to be more fear of Aden himself than a reluctance to share the bad news.
“I don’t think anyone will like it,” I said. What was up with her? “But I think it’s best.”
“No, of course, you’re right.” She began to well up. “Goodness, Justin. This is so—”
“I know. I’ll be outside.”
As I shut the door behind me, I could already hear the sirens in the distance. As I made my way out the front door, I wondered what in the file was so secret. Concentrating, I recalled an unclear image of names and numbers, but I hadn’t been thinking about it, hadn’t been focusing on it. Was it telephone numbers? Social Security Numbers? Street names or people’s names? I shook my head; I had no idea what it was Fee was trying to hide from me. I looked over my shoulder and saw her place the file into a buff-colored filing cabinet, which she locked before she picked up the phone.
The sirens drew closer, and I could see a flash of blue lights as they came down the long avenue to the house. I held up my hand, as if they wouldn’t find their way to the imposing brick structure on their own, and waited for it all to begin.
It seemed to take an eternity. I had the most unappetizing sensation of dissociation; my head felt as though it was about ten feet above and to the left of the constricted knot of my stomach, all stretched out and like one of the drawings of Alice in Wonderland by Tenniel. The dizziness that had been creeping up on me was firmly situated now, a feeling that my bones had shrunk away into nothingness, leaving a hollow core that would not support me if I stopped concentrating on standing upright. I rubbed my fingers together, trying to chase
“Right, yes, go.”
I went in the front door, which was, thankfully, unlocked, and headed straight for Fee’s office. She greeted me with another bright smile, and it made me tired to see it, as it felt so much more like a barrier than a welcome.
“Good morning, Emma—” she trilled.
“Fee, I’ve got to use the phone right away. There’s an emergency.”
Bless Fee, she shoved the phone right toward me without a second’s hesitation. “What is it?” she asked as I began to dial.
“I think Justin is dead.”
“You can’t be serious.” She put down the file she’d been reading.
“Yes.”
“Dear God.” Fee crossed herself. “Where is he?”
“He’s—hello? I need some help, right away!” I told the 911 operator. “Police and an ambulance—I think he’s dead. Pulse—no, I didn’t get a chance. Stone Harbor, the Chandler House, two Chandler Street, the far end of the common off Water Street. I don’t know how. I don’t know when—what? Well, it’s”—here I snuck a look at Fee, then turned away slightly—“it’s the smell that makes me think so. Emma Fielding. Right, I’ll be here. Please. Hurry.”
I hung up and saw how strangely Fee regarded me. “I’m okay,” I said. “I guess I’d better go wait outside, for the police.” I lowered and rubbed my head, trying to collect my wits, trying not to think about poor Justin.
“Emma!” Fee almost shouted. I looked up, alarmed.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I thought you were—” She darted forward and closed the file that had been sitting open on her desk, sweeping it away from me, keeping her gaze level with mine the whole time. “I thought you were going to pass out there, for a minute.”
It was such an obvious lie and she was so clearly trying to keep me from seeing what was in that file that I was at a momentary loss how to answer. “No. No, I’m fine. I’ll just go….” I hooked my thumb toward the door and tried not to stare at the file that she held, awkwardly, casually, behind her hip. “I guess you’d better call some folks. Aden, I suppose, and—”
“Oh no! Aden won’t like this at all,” she said quickly. I was struck by the dread in her voice, which seemed to be more fear of Aden himself than a reluctance to share the bad news.
“I don’t think anyone will like it,” I said. What was up with her? “But I think it’s best.”
“No, of course, you’re right.” She began to well up. “Goodness, Justin. This is so—”
“I know. I’ll be outside.”
As I shut the door behind me, I could already hear the sirens in the distance. As I made my way out the front door, I wondered what in the file was so secret. Concentrating, I recalled an unclear image of names and numbers, but I hadn’t been thinking about it, hadn’t been focusing on it. Was it telephone numbers? Social Security Numbers? Street names or people’s names? I shook my head; I had no idea what it was Fee was trying to hide from me. I looked over my shoulder and saw her place the file into a buff-colored filing cabinet, which she locked before she picked up the phone.
The sirens drew closer, and I could see a flash of blue lights as they came down the long avenue to the house. I held up my hand, as if they wouldn’t find their way to the imposing brick structure on their own, and waited for it all to begin.
It seemed to take an eternity. I had the most unappetizing sensation of dissociation; my head felt as though it was about ten feet above and to the left of the constricted knot of my stomach, all stretched out and like one of the drawings of Alice in Wonderland by Tenniel. The dizziness that had been creeping up on me was firmly situated now, a feeling that my bones had shrunk away into nothingness, leaving a hollow core that would not support me if I stopped concentrating on standing upright. I rubbed my fingers together, trying to chase
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