Page 117 of Not Quite Dead Yet

Henry sniffed. ‘No, no, it wasn’t about that. I just wanted the money. I don’t want to go blind, Jet. I’m scared. I just wanted the money. That’s why.’

Jet’s gut twisted, bile rising in her throat. Was that a confession? Had she … had she done it? Had she really just solved her own murder?

‘You thought attacking me would make Luke pay up? Did you mean for it to go that far – did you mean for me to die?’

‘Wait.’ Henry’s face darkened. ‘What are you talking about? It wasn’t me, Jet. I didn’t hurt you, I would never –’

‘– Where were you on Halloween, at 10:46 p.m.?’

She stood up.

‘I was here.’

Henry stood up too.

So did Billy, straightening to his full height, shoulders wide.

‘Alone?’ Jet said. ‘You knowalonedoesn’t count as an alibi, don’t you?’

‘I – I –’ Henry stuttered, shrinking back. ‘I wasn’t alone.’

Jet tilted her head, surprised by that. ‘But you told the police that you were … Who – who was here, Henry? Who was here with you?’

Henry swallowed, taking the name with him.

But Jet didn’t need him to say it. She got there on her own, new pieces clicking into place, filling in the gaps.

‘Luke,’ she said. ‘Was Luke here?’

Henry nodded, barely, the smallest movement up and down.

Jet’s chin dipped, creating more space for her head as it all came together. ‘Sophia texted Luke at 10:52 p.m. asking him to call her, because he wasn’t at home, he was here,’ Jet said, looking at Henry but speaking to Billy. She glanced down at her own knuckles, a Band-Aid across the palm of her left hand. ‘They lied to the police, said Luke was at home too, to give him an alibi. But not an alibi for my murder, for something else.’ Jet shifted, tried to catch Henry’s eyes. ‘Because he was here, beating the shit out of you, wasn’t he?’ Jet didn’t wait for an answer. She pointed with her good hand. ‘Black eye, cut lip, bruised ribs – that happened to you on Halloween night, Henry. And Luke had matching grazes on his knuckles from that same night, and he lied about howhe got them. Because he was here, wasn’t he? And he did that to you?’

‘Yeah,’ Henry sniffed, another check over his shoulder to that same cupboard.

‘Why?’ Jet pressed, her voice softening, now she no longer thought she was speaking to her own killer.

Henry shrugged. ‘I just wanted the money, that’s all. Was desperate. I messaged Luke, told him that if he couldn’t get me the money, then I’d have to speak to your dad, see if he could help me out. The company is his, and I thought that maybe he could – I don’t know … I didn’t threaten to tell the cops or anything. It was just your dad. Luke saw me trying to talk to him at the Halloween Fair. He intercepted, stopped me. Then he came over to the house and …’ Henry swallowed, eyes faraway. ‘He wanted to make sure I’d never do something like that again, never try to tell anyone.’

The silence was thick, too thick, burrowing into Jet’s ears.

‘Is that why you bought the gun?’ Billy said gently, not quite breaking the silence, skirting just below it. ‘Were you scared of Luke coming back?’

Henry blinked. ‘Luke can be scary.’

Jet sniffed. Luke wasn’t scary, he was just Luke. To her at least. But the Luke she knew wasn’t all of him. Not Sophia’s Luke. Not Henry’s.

‘What time was Luke here?’ Jet asked Henry.

‘I remember when he left,’ he answered. ‘I looked at my phone right after, wondered if I should call 911. That was 10:56.’ Henry held Jet’s gaze, returned it. ‘He was here less than ten minutes.’

Jet looked at Billy instead, finding the same strange look behind his eyes as she must have in hers.

‘So you didn’t kill me, Henry,’ she said, barely more than a whisper. ‘You had an alibi.’

‘And so does Luke,’ Billy said darkly, like he’d really thought it possible, even for a moment, that Jet’s brother could have been the one to kill her.

Two suspects, canceling each other out. And where did that leave them now? So many questions answered, just not the one that truly mattered.