Page 65 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Know anyone who uses this type?’

Dad’s chin dipped, moving side to side. ‘Sorry, kiddo.’

‘Luke?’ She showed him the screen.

‘Not off the top of my head.’

‘No, it was off the top ofmyhead, Luke. The back actually.’

‘You feeling OK, Jet?’ Mom interrupted, stepping between them.

‘I feel like I just spent an hour playing with a sledgehammer.’

‘Billy.’ Dianne’s gaze fixed on him, sudden and surprising. Ah, so shedidremember his name. The same thought spooled behind Billy’s eyes; Jet could tell, the twitch in his parted lips. ‘Are you making sure she’s getting enough rest?’

‘Well, I –’

Dianne didn’t let him answer.

‘– Jet, come home. Please.’

‘I can’t.’ Jet folded her arms in front of her heart, hiding it, protecting it? ‘I have to keep going. Come on, Billy.’

Billy came on.

‘I’ll take good care of her, Dianne. I promise,’ he said.

‘And Luke,’ Jet called, opening the truck door. ‘That list. ASAP. ASAP meaning I’ll be dead in less than five days, got it?’

14

‘Oh good, you’re back.’

Billy stood in the doorway,hisdoorway, plastic bags rustling, five hooked over his fingers.

‘Got some more food,’ he said, shutting the door awkwardly, Billy Bag-Hands, taking them over to the counter. ‘That chocolate you like. I know it wasn’t on the list, but … Stopped by the pharmacy too, got better bandages.’

Jet was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, her laptop open on the table, eyes back to the screen. The web page spliced, doubled, but Jet hadn’t touched anything; she swore she hadn’t. She rubbed her eyes, blinked, and the image fused together again, back to normal.

‘OK, so I’ve done more research on this hammer,’ she said, over Billy’s rustling. ‘Turns out you can’t actually buy the hammer on its own. It’s only sold as part of a set. Comes with a sixty-piece set in this black tool kit.’ She clicked through the images. ‘Various screwdrivers, lots of different fittings, a file, this little wrenchy thing, measuring tape, a knife, a little saw, pliers or something. You get the picture. So the killer has to have this full set somewhere. Or once had it.’

‘OK,’ Billy said, putting a carton of milk in the fridge.

‘And the other thing I found out,’ Jet continued, ‘is that this set is only sold in North America, various retailers like Home Depot, Lowe’s, Amazon, so that … well, I mean, that doesn’t really help us at all.’

Billy pulled out a loaf of bread. ‘And we now think it’s someone connected to your dad’s company, who might haveknown about the project on North Street, and when the foundations were going in.’

‘Correct,’ Jet said. ‘They had to. Just waiting on that list from Luke, then I can figure out who knew about the North Street site, then go ask them what their favorite brand of hammer is.’ Jet stared at it on-screen. The clean, shiny new version of the thing that killed her. ‘Maybe we got a little too excited about the red wig hair, but it still could be Andrew – he has that connection.’

Jet glanced through the front door, re-creating the space beyond it, that narrow hall that split toward two apartments: 1A through there, and here 1B. Fancy that – living about twenty feet away from one of your murder suspects.

‘OK.’ Billy balled up the empty grocery bags, quickly, the swishing sound of their whispered secrets. ‘I better get down to the bar.’ He turned to check his reflection in the mounted microwave, fixing his hair, one stubborn curl that wouldn’t let itself be fixed.

Jet slumped against the sofa. ‘You working tonight?’ she asked, watching Billy as he crossed to the far wall, picked up his guitar case.

He shrugged, hiding his face from her. ‘Kinda,’ he said. ‘It’s th-that live music thing I told you about. I – I’m the music. And I’m … live,’ he added.

‘Oh,’ Jet said. ‘That’s tonight?’