“You killed them!” Juniper screams, dropping the knife and cradling her sliced hand to her chest. “Peopledied!Get out. Get out! You’re not welcome in this house!”
“Ope,” I say quickly, holding my hands up. Then I look at Juniper. “Absolutely support you in however you choose to involve your father in your life, but we do sort of need him to stay here until the police come.”
“Oh,” she says, blinking at me. “Are the police coming?”
I glance at Rocco, whose face is running a wide gamut of colors and emotions. “I called them when we were bursting in on you in the bathroom.”
“Oh,” she says. “Okay.”
Rocco resembles nothing so much as a cornered animal now. He lunges for the knife on the floor, but Juniper turns and grabs from behind her the bust of Shakespeare that sits on my bookshelf.
My lovely, expensive, very heavy bust of Shakespeare.
I know a moment of both regret and relief—regret for the Bard, relief for my girlfriend—as Juniper brings the bust down on Rocco’s head just as he’s scrambling to his feet, knife in hand. It connects with his skull, giving a sickeningcrunch, and he falls immediately to the floor—still and silent.
“William,” I say faintly to the blood-smeared bust, cracked in half on the floor. “Did you kill my father-in-law?” I’m not sure I’m completely in my right mind anymore; in fact, I can feel my hands and legs shaking. I think I’m probably going into shock.
Juniper falls clumsily to the floor, buries her face in her hands, and begins to sob.
In the distance, sirens sound.
* * *
Everything happensin a blur after that.
Sheriff Garrity sends an unconscious Rocco Astor away in an ambulance, handcuffed to a stretcher and escorted by three policemen. Lionel Astor shows up some fifteen minutes later, dressed in suit pants and a white shirt despite the late hour, with several lawyers in tow. I guess he’s keen to keep quiet all news about his little brother.
I didn’t even know he knew where we live.
He bustles around, speaking in clipped tones to the various people who are transforming our house into an official crime scene. I think this must be every single officer the sheriff has; I’ve never seen this many people with him. They all watch Lionel with looks of mingled irritation and respect as he does his thing, probably stepping on toes left and right.
Juniper and I sit on the stairs, watching the hubbub in decidedly different states of mind. She’s somehow half crying, half dozing, so I’ve got her propped against me, her head on my shoulder. I’ve already talked to Garrity, and Juniper has spoken to him too, though she didn’t have a ton to offer. I’m not sure how much she’ll remember of this when she wakes up and the sleep medicine has worn off. For now I think she just needs to rest. Turn her off and then turn her back on again in order to get her functioning again. Maybe put her in a vat of rice if she can’t stop crying.
When Lionel finally approaches us, though, I nudge her with my elbow. “Juniper,” I say.
“Hmm?” she says into my shoulder.
“Wake up.”
She sits up slowly, her eyes bleary as she looks at me. I point to Lionel, who’s standing in front of us at the base of the stairs.
One of the men behind him passes him a large manila envelope, which he in turn holds out to Juniper.
“You are, I’m sorry to say, my niece,” he says.
She blinks at him, taking the envelope. “No need to be rude,” she says, her voice slurring slightly.
And for the first time since I’ve met him, a tiny smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “I simply meant that the circumstances were unfortunate.”
“The fruit of his womb,” Juniper mutters, letting her head drop back onto my shoulder.
One of Lionel’s brows hitches. “I’m sorry?”
“She’s not entirely lucid,” I say. “And she’s having trouble processing the events of the night. It would probably be best if you spoke again at a later date.”
He nods, looking frankly relieved, before turning and striding off, down the hallway and out the front door. His bevy of legal minions follows, their shoes clicking on the wood floor.
I turn to my very drowsy girlfriend. “Let’s put you to bed,” I say with a sigh.