Page 47 of Jar of Hearts
“Of course it does,” Geo says, looking up at him. “But I can’t run anymore, Kai. I did that already, remember? I’m tired. This is where I am. If he’s going to come for me, then let him come. If you’reso concerned, you’ll catch him this time and put him in prison, like you did me.”
“I did catch him—”
“Yeah, and he got away,” she says bitterly. “I’m terrified, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Maybe this is about me, and maybe it isn’t, but he had fourteen years to come back and kill me after Angela. He didn’t. He killed other women instead, and who knows how many more, because you guys didn’t do your fucking job and keep him in prison with the rest of the criminals. I was sixteen when I did the worst, most terrible thing I have ever done, or will do. You were thirty when he escaped from that prison, and now it’s five years later and more victims are turning up and you still haven’t caught him. We can sit here and discuss who’s the bigger failure, but I’ll save you the trouble: We both are.”
Kaiser’s jaw works. He doesn’t respond.
Geo pushes her chair back and stands up. “I can see you’re ready to leave. Let me walk you to the door so you can leave faster.”
Geo escorts him down the hallway, resisting the urge to place her hands on his back so she can get him out of her sight quicker. He unlocks the front door, then stops. He looks down at her, his face etched in weariness, mirroring hers.
“One last thing,” he says, reaching into his pants pocket. He hands her a slender plastic tube, black matte finish, gold lettering. It’s the new Shipp lipstick. “The name of the shade of lipstick used on the boy? It’s called Cinnamon Heart. If that means anything to you.”
He turns and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. He doesn’t get to see the look on Geo’s face, the blood fading from her cheeks as she pales, the new wave of nausea that hits her so fast she might have thrown up again had her stomach not already been emptied. She leans against the wall for support, looking down at the lipstick he’d given her.
Cinnamon Heart.If that means anything to you.
Yes. It does.
18
Toothpicks in her eyes. That’s what it feels like to Geo after a short, terrible sleep. Her internal clock woke her at 5:45A.M., which is when the bell always goes off at Hazelwood, signaling the start of another bleak day. She’s still on prison time. Her dad, surprised to see her in the kitchen so early that morning as he was leaving for work, reminded her that it would take a while to readjust to “normal” life.
Whatever the fuck that is now.
Geo’s on her second Starbucks Grande of the morning as she meets the gaze of one of the mortgage specialists at her local bank, a rude woman who seemed to dislike Geo the minute her name popped up on the screen. Geo had asked to see someone else, but as she didn’t have an appointment, this was who she got.
“I can’t approve you for a mortgage,” the woman says, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. You could try another bank, but they’ll likely tell you the same thing.”
There’s no desk plaque, but the woman has her diploma from Puget Sound State University framed behind her on the wall. Mona Sharp. Undergraduate degree in finance with a minor in communications, graduated three years after Geo did.Well, Mona Sharp, your communications skills suck.
“I don’t need a lot,” Geo says. “As you can see, I have enough to put sixty-five percent down on a house price of—”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve maintained excellent credit,” Geo says, keeping her breathing regular and even. “I’ve owned two properties before. And I’ve had a checking account at this bank since I was twelve. If that means anything to you.”
“We certainly appreciate your loyalty—”
“I really want to speak to your manager.”
The woman sighs, then leaves the office. She returns a few minutes later with the middle-aged man Geo had hoped to see when she first walked in. Harry Rudnick has been the bank manager at this branch for over twenty years. He’s also a friend of her father’s.
“Georgina, come on into my office,” Harry says. “We’ll talk there.”
She follows him, giving Mona Sharp an unfiltered stare as she passes. The woman steps back a foot, clearly uncertain as to whether Geo has a prison shank stuffed inside her bra. Geo rolls her eyes.
Harry Rudnick’s office is a bit larger, with a view of the parking lot beneath. He shuts the door. “Have a seat,” he says, tapping the chair in front of his desk before sitting down on the other side. “How’s Walt? Happy to have you home, I bet.”
“He’s good,” Geo says. “And I’m sure he is, but I need a place of my own, Harry.”
“I wish you’d brought him with you,” the manager says, drumming his fingers on the table. “We can’t give you a mortgage, Georgina.”
Her back stiffens. “And why not?”
“You don’t have a job, for one.”
“I’ll get one,” Geo says. “And I don’t see why that’s the deal breaker if I’m putting down two-thirds of the money. If I don’t pay every month, you take the house. Pretty simple. I know you’ve approved mortgages before based on assets over income. As you can see, I have assets.”
