onto the bridge, tears rolling down her face, she barely felt the vibration of her phone in her jeans pocket. She pulled it out and flipped it open without seeing who called—she couldn’t care less—and absentmindedly laid it on her ear.
And her heart nearly exploded for the second time that morning as she heard his voice. There was no doubt, no thought of some kind of trick; she knew who it was before the first uttered word was completed.
“Joy,” Jack said, “please don’t let anyone see you react to this call.”
“Oh, my God,” she said in a sobbing whisper.
“I need your help.”
• • •
J OY SAT IN the backseat of Frank’s Jeep, hugging Jack, holding on to him as if he was about to slip away from this earth again.
“What the hell?” She was genuinely pissed. “It’s eleven a.m. and you couldn’t have picked up the phone any earlie?”
“Sorry,” Jack said with an apologetic smile as Frank shot him a glance.
“I’m serious.” Joy leaned back and glared at him. “I thought you were dead. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you now. Don’t ever do that again.” Joy’s emotions flew all over the place, finally settling down into relief as she took a deep breath and leaned back in the seat. “How’s Mia?”
Jack’s look quickened her breath. He told her what had happened, about going over the bridge, his wounds and the tattoo, Mia’s disappearance and his confidence in her still being alive, and the evidence case. After riding the emotional roller coaster again, Joy calmed herself and regained the focus she was known for.
“Do you understand that I need you?” Jack asked.
“You’ve always needed me,” she said with a smirk, falling into their yin-and-yang work mode. “Which you can show your appreciation for by getting me a nice big present for my birthday next week.”
“Don’t I always?”
Joy smiled, then got serious. “Let me see that tat?”
“The what?” Frank asked from the driver’s seat.
Jack rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeve.
Joy smiled as she examined the tattoo.
“What’s so funny?” Jack asked.
“That’s not a tattoo, it’s henna,” Joy said as she ran her hand over the dark ink. “You’re lucky. It’s like the mehndi art that Asian woman get on their hands before they get married.” Joy couldn’t suppress a laugh.
“Joy …” Jack urged her on.
“In a few weeks, you’ll never even know it was there.”
“Great. Long sleeves in summer.”
“It’s better than long sleeves the rest of your life.”
She took hold of his arm, looking at him for approval. Without a thought, he nodded and she began turning his arm, examining it closely.
“This is intricate writing; it’s beautiful in a scary kind of way. A few of my goth friends would love this. Looks like some kind of a mix of Asian and Sanskrit.”
“Well, how do we get it translated fast?”
“Not going to be easy on the Friday of the long Fourth of July weekend.”
“Check with the universities, Columbia, NYU, Yale. I really don’t care what you have to do, Joy.” Jack’s voice grew stern as he handed her his BlackBerry with the scan of his arm.
Joy shrugged it off. She understood the fear running through Jack, the fear he felt for his wife. She had always tended to combat stress with humor, some of it dark; it helped keep her mind from slipping into a black hole of pain that she knew would be hard to extract herself from.
She began working the phones, calling in favors, reaching out to academia, to the professionals they so often called on to render expert testimony. She had always been resourceful, street-smart; it was what allowed her to thrive in school, in work. She was tenacious beyond compare and could pull a rabbit out of a hat if the occasion called for it.
And right now, the occasion called for it more than ever.
“Did you ever give her that necklace?” Joy asked without looking
And her heart nearly exploded for the second time that morning as she heard his voice. There was no doubt, no thought of some kind of trick; she knew who it was before the first uttered word was completed.
“Joy,” Jack said, “please don’t let anyone see you react to this call.”
“Oh, my God,” she said in a sobbing whisper.
“I need your help.”
• • •
J OY SAT IN the backseat of Frank’s Jeep, hugging Jack, holding on to him as if he was about to slip away from this earth again.
“What the hell?” She was genuinely pissed. “It’s eleven a.m. and you couldn’t have picked up the phone any earlie?”
“Sorry,” Jack said with an apologetic smile as Frank shot him a glance.
“I’m serious.” Joy leaned back and glared at him. “I thought you were dead. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you now. Don’t ever do that again.” Joy’s emotions flew all over the place, finally settling down into relief as she took a deep breath and leaned back in the seat. “How’s Mia?”
Jack’s look quickened her breath. He told her what had happened, about going over the bridge, his wounds and the tattoo, Mia’s disappearance and his confidence in her still being alive, and the evidence case. After riding the emotional roller coaster again, Joy calmed herself and regained the focus she was known for.
“Do you understand that I need you?” Jack asked.
“You’ve always needed me,” she said with a smirk, falling into their yin-and-yang work mode. “Which you can show your appreciation for by getting me a nice big present for my birthday next week.”
“Don’t I always?”
Joy smiled, then got serious. “Let me see that tat?”
“The what?” Frank asked from the driver’s seat.
Jack rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeve.
Joy smiled as she examined the tattoo.
“What’s so funny?” Jack asked.
“That’s not a tattoo, it’s henna,” Joy said as she ran her hand over the dark ink. “You’re lucky. It’s like the mehndi art that Asian woman get on their hands before they get married.” Joy couldn’t suppress a laugh.
“Joy …” Jack urged her on.
“In a few weeks, you’ll never even know it was there.”
“Great. Long sleeves in summer.”
“It’s better than long sleeves the rest of your life.”
She took hold of his arm, looking at him for approval. Without a thought, he nodded and she began turning his arm, examining it closely.
“This is intricate writing; it’s beautiful in a scary kind of way. A few of my goth friends would love this. Looks like some kind of a mix of Asian and Sanskrit.”
“Well, how do we get it translated fast?”
“Not going to be easy on the Friday of the long Fourth of July weekend.”
“Check with the universities, Columbia, NYU, Yale. I really don’t care what you have to do, Joy.” Jack’s voice grew stern as he handed her his BlackBerry with the scan of his arm.
Joy shrugged it off. She understood the fear running through Jack, the fear he felt for his wife. She had always tended to combat stress with humor, some of it dark; it helped keep her mind from slipping into a black hole of pain that she knew would be hard to extract herself from.
She began working the phones, calling in favors, reaching out to academia, to the professionals they so often called on to render expert testimony. She had always been resourceful, street-smart; it was what allowed her to thrive in school, in work. She was tenacious beyond compare and could pull a rabbit out of a hat if the occasion called for it.
And right now, the occasion called for it more than ever.
“Did you ever give her that necklace?” Joy asked without looking
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