Jemma threw her arms around me, almost knocking me off my feet. “Oh my God! Emersyn! Are you okay?”
My neighbors swarmed around me, everyone exclaiming and chattering all at once.
I was safe, I realized.
Alive and safe.
I sank into Jemma’s arms and let my tears fall.
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
I huddled in my cozy sweater as I sat on a bench in the courtyard, watching with a glowing heart as Livy danced around the rim of the old fountain.
She had no idea what had transpired on the Mirage’s roof three days earlier while she was at a friend’s house. She thought my scrapes and bruises resulted from a simple tumble, and I’d explained Bodie’s absence from the building by saying that he’d moved out. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. He was currently housed in a jail cell and would—hopefully—remain behind bars for a long, long time.
Jemma sat on my left with her arm tucked through mine.
“I talked to Detective Callahan this morning,” I told her.
“Did he have anything to share?” Jemma asked.
“He confirmed that Minnie’s guess was right. Yolanda thought Minnie killed Freddie out of a double dose of anger—because of how he’d humiliated her and how he’d desecrated the speakeasy—so Yolanda confessed to protect her.”
“Misguided, but a little bit sweet,” Jemma said, sharing my sentiment on the matter.
“Bodie’s been formally charged with the assault on Hoffman,” I added, “as well as with murder and attempted murder.”
Sparks of anger danced in Jemma’s brown eyes. “I hope he rots in jail.”
Weariness weighed down my next words. “Me too.”
“Why did Bodie attack Hoffman? Did Thor say anything about that?”
“Bodie didn’t realize that the police knew about the speakeasy and had cleared out the liquor. Neither did Hoffman, but he found two bottles in Freddie’s office. Bottles that the cops didn’t take when they searched the office right after the murder.”
“Because they didn’t know they had any significance at the time,” Jemma surmised.
I nodded. “When Bodie caught Hoffman slipping the bottles into his bag, he knocked Hoff out and dumped his body in the alley, taking the bottles for himself, probably mere moments before Theo and I showed up in the lobby.”
“Hoffman should be in jail too,” Jemma grumbled.
I didn’t disagree.
“I don’t think we were far off with our theory about Hoff,” I continued. “He didn’t kill anyone, but I’m pretty sure Freddie caught him taking a bottle of whiskey from the speakeasy. They must have fought, and the bottle broke. Hoffman grabbed the label before he took off, probably so he could find out the value of the whiskey so he’d know if it would be worth coming back for more.”
“That must have happened right before the murder,” Jemma said.
“That’s what I figure,” I agreed, “since Freddie never had a chance to clean up the spilled booze.” I paused for a moment before sharing what else I’d learned from Detective Callahan. “Bodie’s the one who told the cops about Freddie threatening to evict me. He overheard our conversation.”
Jemma made a face. “Ugh! He heard what the sleazeball was saying to you and just stood there listening?”
“Not such a surprise, now that I know what type of person Bodie really is.”
“I never would have guessed that Bodie was an even bigger creep than Freddie.”
“You and me both.” I held back a shudder.
