Page 74 of The Lies I Told
“I’ll grab it.” She fished a wallet from her purse and dashed to the counter. Back in less than a minute with a steaming latte in her hand, she moved very quickly when she put her mind to it.
I waited until she had her first sip. “Richards.”
Jo-Jo made a face. “He must be a thousand years old now.”
“Sixty-five. Ready to retire. I saw him on Tuesday.”
She brushed back a brown curl off her forehead. “And?”
“Tell me about the night you last saw Clare?”
Jo-Jo’s face paled a fraction as she grimaced. “Why would you want to bring that up? Christ, I don’t want to go there today.”
“I don’t wake up ready to revisit my sister’s death. It sucks for me. But not talking about it doesn’t solve anything.”
She held up a hand. “Right, right. It’s just that talking about Clare hurts.”
I traced the stoneware rim of my mug. “Like opening a festering wound that’s never healed.”
She sighed, sat back. “Did you know he was waiting outside my school last year? He wanted to go over the case. We spent a half hour going over the same old questions.”
I’d assumed my yearly visits were what had been enough to keep the case active. “He didn’t tell me.”
“He’s been lurking around all of us—Jack, Kurt, Brit, and me—for thirteen years. I know he spoke to Jack two years ago, and I’m sure he found a way to cross paths with Brit and Kurt. I compared notes with Jack, and he asks a variation of the same old questions. I suppose he’shoping time will make us forget what we originally told him, or someone will spill the beans on someone else.”
“Time changes people. What did Richards want to talk to you about?”
Jo-Jo sighed. “This is the last time, M. I want to let that time go. I know it’s hard for you, but we all have to move on with our lives.”
Bitterness soured my next sip of coffee. “Time is eating away at the case, and one day there won’t be any crumbs left. I don’t want my sister forgotten.”
Jo-Jo closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose before she looked at me again. “He had questions about the party at my house.”
“And?”
“Like I’ve told him a half dozen times, I was at the party with Sam. We were upstairs in my bedroom and, well, you know. That always was our thing. When I came downstairs, I saw you ... or rather Clare. She was dressed just like you, and she was drinking a beer. I called to her—you—but she turned and left the house.”
“How did she seem?”
“She looked pissed, and I heard she’d fought with Kurt.”
“You didn’t hear them fight?”
“I know they did.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Kurt started to follow her out of the party, but then Tamara called out to him, and they started dancing.”
“That wasn’t the statement you gave Richards.”
She paused, her cup near her lips. “How do you know what I said to Richards?”
I ignored her question. “Kurt said he didn’t fight with her. He said she was upset about something. Very emotional.”
Jo-Jo set her cup down. “Why weren’t you at the party? And don’t lie this time.”
“I was with a guy. I got really high and passed out.”
