“Can you recall any mention of that on the autopsy?”
“Of bruising? Like she was…” She runs her hand over her throat and then shakes her head, sniffling. “No, not that I remember. And I never saw her body. Closed-casket funeral too, so…” Naomi’s heart thumps, remembering Faye’s closed-casket funeral.
Naomi nods, wondering why this would have been left off the autopsy report if the detective Leo spoke to was so sure about it.They told them to stop looking into it.
A pit forms in Naomi’s stomach as the words “major cover-up” flash across her mind in bright-red letters.
“Is there any way you can send me a copy of Jade’s autopsy? I won’t publish it or anything, I just want to verify a few things.”
Emily hesitates before agreeing. “Yeah, sure. I know it was sent to my email, so I’ll forward it to you.”
“Thanks.”
They both smile at Logan as he sets down their food.
“Are you going to write about the… strangling… thing?” Emily asks once Logan leaves, before taking a bite of her sandwich. Naomi’s relieved she brought this up.
“Is that okay with you?” She prays Emily doesn’t say no, because she’s going to have to run the article either way. “I won’t include any of our conversation here if you don’t want me to, but you can have a comment included if you want. Or not.”
Emily shrugs as she takes another bite, looking at the window as she chews. “Write what you want. Maybe it’ll actually prompt the police to start giving us more information, put some pressure on them.”
“Hopefully.”
“You can include what I said about her not being into drugs. How I always thought something was off.”
“Amazing, thank you,” Naomi responds.
“But nothing about the sex stuff, okay? She’d haunt me forever.” She laughs. “Not that I’d hate that.” She smiles, tears filling her eyes again.
“I know what you mean,” Naomi says, understanding full well.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Emily says, “what happened to your sister?”
Naomi swallows and takes a sip of her water before answering. “Well, it’s kind of similar to your story, sadly. Her name was Faye, she was an aspiring musician too, like Jade. Died about six months after, in March 2022. Her body was found not far from our hometown, in Poughkeepsie. Cause of death was officially listed as drug overdose and/or smoke inhalation. There was a fire, but she also had a lot of drugs in her system, also ‘laced heroin’, aka fentanyl, hence why she didn’t escape…”
“Shit,” Emily says, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “Wonder if you’ll get a phone call next saying she’s another victim of Harlow.”
Naomi laughs awkwardly at the ridiculous thought. But the burn at the back of her throat, the creeping chill on her neck, and the sudden sound of her heartbeat thrashing in her ears makes the notion impossible to ignore.
Chapter 18
Given the right circumstances, human skin can melt. It can fuse together with synthetic fabric to the point where skin and pleather are no longer distinguishable. Naomi never knew this could happen until it happened to her sister.
Naomi stares at the thick drops of rain falling on her windshield, unsure how much time has passed. The engine is running, but she’s still in the parking lot of the diner. Physically, at least. Mentally, she’s in the past. Back two and half years. Back to the worst day of her life.
She was on her way to work, coffee in hand as she strode down the city street, when her phone rang.
“Naomi Barnes? This is Officer Delgado with the New York State Police Department. Is your sister Faye Barnes?”
Her heart sank in apprehension, assuming Faye had been arrested for something. Drunk driving, maybe. “Yes. Is everything okay?”
“I’m afraid not.” What he said next shattered her world forever.
Everything after that was a blur. People bumping into her as she stood, frozen in place. Hot coffee burning her hand as the Starbucks cup tumbled to the ground. The taste of copper in her mouth. The ringing in her ears.
She rushed to Grand Central and got on the next train to Poughkeepsie. When she arrived, she got a taxi straight to the scene of the crime—a neglected property set back from the road, obscured by trees, not far from where she grew up. The police wouldn’t let her past the yellow tape toward the remnants of the once-boarded-up house, said they were still gathering evidence, mumbling something about a “known hotspot for junkies.”
She forced them to take her to the morgue to see Faye’s body. She couldn’t look at the horrifying corpse for more than a few seconds. Half of her melted, the other half charred bone and flesh.
