Thank God.
She listened again. Justine and her visitor were still talking.
Working as fast as she could, she picked through the necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. It wasn’t there.
Damn.
Then she saw the huge jewelry box that stood upright like a small dresser. Her pulse raced.
Do it.
She crossed to the larger jewelry box, but the array of framed photos on the bureau distracted her. Lots and lots of pictures of Justine ... and some with Misty. One photo in particular intrigued Emily. Justine and Misty looked really young. Grade school maybe. Emily picked up the photograph. Voices echoed in her head. Heather talking about creepy Misty Briggs. Marv saying she was weird. The memory of running into Misty outside Fairgate’s house. But was any of that relevant? It felt strange, but was it important to what had happened to Heather? Not likely.
Emily replaced the framed photo and settled her attention back on the larger jewelry box. The hushed voices indicated Justine was still distracted. Emily opened drawer after drawer. Each one held expensive jewelry. Incredible pieces. How on earth did a teacher afford such luxury?
Last drawer, this one was the deepest. No necklace, no jewelry, period. More photos. A whole stack. The photo on top made Emily’s eyes go wide. “Oh, my God.” The words rushed out on a breath.
Her pulse blipping wildly, she withdrew the stack and studied the photo on top more closely. Two young men having sex ... did she know those guys? The profile of the tall one with blondish hair looked vaguely familiar.
The other one had his back to the camera. He was on his knees.
The tempo of the conversation in the other room rose, then fell again. Emily stared at the door, told her heart to slow. She had to hurry.
She shuffled through the stack. Her fingers shook as she recognized Justine in one. A man, his face obscured by Justine’s hair, was giving it to her from behind. The third person in the photo was female. Emily couldn’t see her face, since she knelt in front of Justine ... her hands on Justine’s hips, her face pressed to the juncture of her thighs. The womanon her knees had long brownish hair. Misty? Emily couldn’t be sure, but the hair color was right.
Okay, this was none of her business. She reached to put the stack back into the drawer and a change in the intensity of the voices jerked her attention back to the door. She had to hurry. Emily shoved the pictures into the drawer and started to turn away. Something on the floor snagged her attention.Damn!One of the photos. She’d dropped one.
The front door closed. The sound unmistakable.
Shit.
She snatched up the photo and hurried to the bedroom door, then across the few feet that stood between her and having to answer a hell of a lot of questions.
She eased the bathroom door closed, prayed it wouldn’t creak. She flushed the toilet. Turned on the water in the sink to make it seem as if she’d been doing her business.
She needed a reason for being in here so long.
The blood pounding in her head made it difficult to think. She set the photo aside, splashed water on her face, and rubbed her eyes hard. She turned off the water, grabbed tissues from the box on the toilet tank, and prepared to rejoin her hostess.
The picture! Emily grabbed it off the counter. This was far too private and absolutely none of her business.
What the hell did she do with the damned thing? If she left it behind, Justine would most likely find it. She’d just have to take it with her. She slid it inside the waistband of her panties. Gross but necessary, since she didn’t have any pockets.
Okay. Now. She took a breath and opened the door. Justine was standing in the hall right outside.
Emily yelped.
“I’m sorry,” Justine said. “I thought something was wrong.”
Emily dabbed at her eyes. “I guess talking about everything ...” She shook her head, blew her nose. “Sorry.”
“Oh, Em, I understand.” Justine put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and escorted her back to the living room. “Would you like a brandy or something?”
Emily prayed the photo wouldn’t start slipping downward. She flashed Justine a weak smile. “I should go. Let you get to your shopping.” She grabbed her purse from the arm of the couch and tried her level best not to look nervous or guilty. “I hope I didn’t cause you to rush away your company.”
“It was nothing,” Justine assured her. “A persistent salesperson.” She placed her hand on Emily’s arm as they walked to the front door. “I’m so glad you stopped by, Em. I’m sure I’ll see you at the funerals.”
“Of course,” Emily promised. Her knees felt weak with relief as she crossed the threshold toward freedom.
