Page 75 of Not Quite Dead Yet

Henry’s mouth dropped open, teeth visible again, and a cut on the underside of his lip. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Fuck sake, you too?’ Jet said, sharing a look with Billy. ‘Why do the cops keep only half telling the story? I’m going to die, Henry. There’s a piece of my skull where it shouldn’t be, a brain aneurysm that will be fatal when it ruptures. So yeah, there’s that.’

Henry’s lip shook; his head too. ‘That can’t be true.’

‘Well, it is,’ Jet said. ‘Medical anomaly over here.’ Pointing her thumb to her chest.

Henry wiped his nose on his sleeve. ‘Does JJ know?’

‘I assume not,’ Jet said. ‘If no one can get hold of him.’

‘He needs to know,’ Henry said. ‘He’ll want to see you, before … God, Jet. I can’t believe it. Can’t believe that you won’t be …’ He couldn’t finish, but Jet didn’t need him to; that was enough, said it all.

‘I know.’

‘I’ve missed it, you know. Having you around the house. JJ does too. He won’t say it, but I know.’

Jet knew that too.

‘If there’s anything I can do.’

Jet jumped on that. ‘Actually, there is, Henry. We didn’t come over to talk about JJ. I came to ask you some questions.’

‘Me?’ Henry shuffled, glanced back at his gun. ‘You gonna ask me where I was on Halloween between ten and eleven p.m.?’

‘No.’ Jet hesitated. ‘Do I need to?’

Henry shrugged. ‘Cops already did. I was here. Alone.’

‘No, I wanted to ask you about Mason Construction actually.’

A shadow crossed Henry’s face, eyebrows lowered. ‘Wh-why?’ he asked.

Jet turned to Billy, reached into his jacket pocket like it was her own, pulled out his phone. Billy didn’t mind.

‘Do you recognize this hammer? Know anyone who uses one like this, anyone who works for my dad’s company?’

Jet held the photo up for Henry, the clean picture from Amazon, not the one flecked with her blood and bone.

Henry stared at the screen. ‘Not mine,’ he said. ‘My tools are red and black.’

‘But do you remember if anyone else at Mason Construction had this Coleby set? Anyone who was on that project over on North Street?’

Henry swallowed, transferring his eyes from the screen to Jet, something unfamiliar behind them. ‘Why would I know that? I’ve never worked for Mason Construction.’

Jet’s arm dropped, and so did her stomach, the phone skimming her side. ‘What are you talking about, Henry? Iknowthat you did. I practically used to live here with you. Used to give you rides to go pick up a van.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he murmured.

‘No,’ Jet raised her voice. ‘I don’t know whatyou’retalking about.’

‘Sorry that I can’t help you.’ Henry stepped forward into the morning light, the sun finding new colors in that bruise under his eye. His hand snaked around the door, knuckles out, hinges creaking, like he was trying to push it shut without them noticing. A pang in the back of Jet’s head and the world split: two Henrys, two of his hands, two doors, and two guns, spliced over each other.

‘What happened to your eye?’ Jet said, stopping him. And what was happening to hers? Everything still doubled, two Jets, two Billys behind.

Henry blinked. ‘I can’t see so well anymore. The other eye was injured too, during my accident. Blunt trauma, theysaid. I had to have an operation a couple months ago, to stop the retina from detaching. It … well, it didn’t work. I need another surgery, or they say I’ll lose the sight in that eye too.’ He blinked again.

‘I was actually talking about the bruise,’ Jet said, trying to read his face. ‘But doctors are usually right. You should get that surgery ASAP.’