CHAPTER EIGHT
Eliza Longworth hurried to Pennys front door as quickly as she could. It was almost 8 a.m., which was when their yoga instructor usually showed up.
It had been a largely sleepless night. Only in the first light of morning did she feel like she knew the path she had to take. Once the decision was made, Eliza felt a weight lift off her.
She texted Penny to tell her that the long night had given her time to think, and to reconsider if shed been too hasty in ending their friendship. They should do the yoga lesson. And then afterward, once their instructor, Beth, had gone, they could try to find a way to hash things out.
Penny hadnt replied but that didnt stop Eliza from going over anyway. Just as she reached the front door, she saw Beth driving up the winding residential road and waved to her.
Penny! she yelled as she knocked on the door. Beths here. Are we still on for yoga?
There was no answer so she pushed the Ring doorbell and waved her arms in front of the camera.
Penny, can I come in? We should talk for a sec before Beth arrives.
There was still no answer and Beth was only about a hundred yards down the road so she decided to go in. She knew where the secret key was kept but tried the door anyway. It was unlocked. She stepped inside, leaving the door open for Beth.
Penny, she called out. You left the door unlocked. Beths pulling up. Did you get my text? Can we talk privately for a minute before we start?
She walked into the foyer and waited. There was still no response. She moved into the living room where they usually had the yoga sessions. It was empty too. She was about to go to the kitchen when Beth walked in.
Ladies, Im here! she called out from the front door.
Hey, Beth, Eliza said, turning to greet her. The door was unlocked but Pennys not answering. Im not sure whats up. Maybe she overslept or is in the bathroom or something. I can check upstairs if you want to get yourself something to drink. Im sure itll just be a minute.
No problem, Beth said. My nine thirty client cancelled so Im not in a hurry. Tell her to take her time.
Okay, Eliza said as she started up the stairs. Just give us a minute.
She was about halfway up the first flight of stairs when she wondered if perhaps she should have taken the elevator. The master bedroom was on the third floor and she wasnt enthused about the hike. Before she could seriously reconsider, she heard a scream from down below.
What is it? she yelled as she turned and rushed back down.
Hurry! Beth shouted. Dear god, hurry!
Her voice was coming from the kitchen. Eliza broke into a run once she got to the bottom of the stairs, tearing through the living room and rounding the corner.
On the Spanish tile kitchen floor, lying in a massive pool of blood, was Penny. Her eyes were frozen open in terror, her body contorted into some horrifying death spasm.
Eliza hurried over to her oldest, dearest friend, slipping on the thick liquid as she approached. Her foot slid out from under her and she landed hard on the ground, her whole body splashing in the blood.
Trying not to gag, she crawled over and put her hands on Pennys chest. Even with clothes on, she was cold. Despite that, Eliza shook her, as if that might wake her up.
Penny, she begged, wake up.
Her friend didnt respond. Eliza looked up at Beth.
Do you know CPR? she asked.
No, the younger woman said in a quavering voice, shaking her head. But I think its too late.
Ignoring the comment, Eliza tried to remember the CPR class shed taken years ago. It was for treating children but the same principles should apply. She opened Pennys mouth, tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and blew hard down her friends throat.
Then she climbed on top of Pennys waist, put one hand on top of the other with her palms down, and thrust the pad of her hand down into Pennys sternum. She did it a second time and then a third, trying to get into some kind of rhythm.
Oh god, she heard Beth mutter and looked up to see what was going on.
What is it? she demanded harshly.
When you push on her, blood oozes out of her chest.
Eliza looked down. It was true. Each compression caused a slow leak of blood from what appeared to be wide gashes in her chest cavity. She looked up again.
Call nine-one-one! she screamed, though she knew there was no point.
*Jessie, who felt unexpectedly nervous, got to work early.
With all of the extra security precautions she had in place, shed decided to leave for her first day of work in three months twenty minutes early to make sure she arrived by 9 a.m., the time Captain Decker had told her to show up. But she must have been getting better at negotiating all the hidden turns and stairwells because it didnt take nearly as long as she expected to get to Central Station.
As she walked from the parking structure to the main entrance of the station, her eyes darted back and forth, looking for anything out of the ordinary. But then she remembered the promise shed made to herself just before she fell asleep last night. She would not allow the threat from her father to consume her.
She had no idea how vague or specific Bolton Crutchfields information to her father had been. She couldnt even be sure that Crutchfield was telling her the truth. Regardless, there wasnt much more she could do about it than she was already doing. Kat Gentry was checking the tapes of Crutchfields visits. She basically lived in a bunker. Shed be getting her official weapon today. Beyond that, she had to live her life. Otherwise shed go crazy.
She made her way back to the stations main bullpen, more than a little apprehensive at the reception shed receive after so long away. Add to that, when shed last been here she was merely an interim junior profiling consultant.
Now the interim tag was gone and, though she was technically still a consultant, she was paid by the LAPD and got all the attendant benefits. That included health insurance, which if recent experience was any example, shed need in spades.
When she stepped into the large central work area, comprised of dozens of desks, separated by nothing more than corkboards, she breathed in and waited. But there was nothing. No one said anything.
In fact, no one even seemed to notice her arrival. Some heads were down, studying case files. Others were fixed on the people across the tables from them, in most cases witnesses or handcuffed suspects.
She felt slightly deflated. But more than that, she felt silly.
What did I expecta parade?
Its not like she won the mythical Nobel Prize for crime solving. Shed gone to an FBI training academy for two and a half months. It was pretty cool. But no one was going to break out in applause for her.
She walked quietly through the maze of desks, passing detectives shed worked with previously. Callum Reid, in his mid-forties, glanced up from the file he was reading. As he nodded at her, his glasses almost fell off his forehead, where they had been resting.
Twenty-something Alan Trembley, his blond curls messy as usual, was wearing glasses too, but his were at the bridge of his nose as he intently questioned an older man who appeared to be drunk. He didnt even notice Jessie as she walked past him.
She reached her desk, which was embarrassingly tidy, tossed down her jacket and backpack purse, and took a seat. As she did, she saw Garland Moses slowly amble from the break room, coffee in hand, as he started up the stairs to his second-floor office in what was essentially a broom closet.