The Girl with the Cat Tattoo

Chapter 11

With Max clutched to her chest, Lola at her side, Melody stood at a distance and watched as the paramedics worked on Joe. Police cars swarmed and lights flashed and radios squelched. Bits of conversation drifted to them.

“Should we leave?” Melody asked. Her voice was shaking, and her mouth felt numb. Then she realized her whole body was shaking. “I want to leave.” She knew it made no sense, but she wanted to run home. She wanted to get out of her bloody clothes, take a shower, and wait for Joe to come over so they could pop popcorn and watch TV. But Joe wouldn’t be coming over. Joe was at that moment being lifted into the back of the emergency vehicle in which he would be driven to Regions Medical Center.

Just like David.

And just like David, he would die. And she didn’t want to see that. She didn’t want to know about that.

Maybe she could go back to weeks ago, before Joe entered her life. Yes, that was it. She would pretend they’d never met.

“One of the officers said something about getting our statements,” Lola said. “I think we have to stick around until then.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” How had she forgotten that part of it? The string of cops? The questions, when all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep forever. Never, ever, ever waking up again?

Lola gave her a one-armed hug and briefly leaned her head on Melody’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mel. So sorry.” She didn’t have to explain, didn’t have to go on, because Melody understood all of what she meant. Lola was sorry that Joe was a criminal, but she was especially sorry that Melody had just endured a repeat of the scene enacted with David.

The emergency vehicle turned on its siren and careened away, wailing. Did that mean he was still alive? Melody hoped he was still alive.

Max let out a muffled meow, his head buried against his mistress’s chest, as if he too wanted to pretend none of this was happening.

A female cop approached, pulling out a tablet as she walked. “Melody?” she asked once she was near enough for a good visual. “Is that you?”

Melody looked up to see an officer she remembered from another life, David’s life, their life together. “Sandra?”

“Wow. Hi,” Sandra said. “You’re the last person I’d expect to see here.”

“I know. Was it drug related?”

“We aren’t sure at this point. How do you know the victim?”

“We… Well, I guess we were dating.”

“Dating? You and Joe?”

“I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know about his secret life. He seemed like such a nice guy.”

“He is a nice guy. Well, I don’t know him very well, but everybody seems to like him.”

“I don’t understand. Is he an informant or something? I just thought he was your run-of-the-mill drug dealer.”

Sandra frowned, looked over her shoulder, then back at Melody. “Melody, Joe isn’t a criminal.”

Melody felt Max relax a little, almost as if he understood.

“He isn’t?” Melody could see her own confusion mirrored in her sister’s face. “I don’t understand.”

“I can probably tell you because his cover is blown. Joe is one of us. He’s a detective.”

Max stiffened, and for a moment Melody struggled to keep him from jumping from her arms. “A cop?” she said numbly. And now she realized he’d most likely been working undercover when her dad had seen him with the “seedy” people.

“That’s why I was so surprised to hear you were dating. After David died, I remember you saying you’d never date another cop.”

A cop.

So much worse than a criminal.

Sandra took down their information, then told them they could leave.

“How will I find out if… If he’s okay? I don’t even know his real name.”

“Joe is his real name. I’m not at liberty to tell you his last name at this point. Tell you what. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know something. And there’s nothing to keep you from following the emergency vehicle to the hospital right now.”

“Yes.” Could she do it? She had to do it.

“Will you drive?” she asked her sister.

“Of course.”

“But you have to be at work…”

“I can cancel my deejay gig.”

It was so hard to connect this world, the world of gunshots and maybe another dead lover, to the world of thirty minutes ago when the sisters were giggling together and thinking it was all some silly nonsense. A game.

Melody looked down. “I’m still Alice. Look at me. I’m still Alice.” Did anybody understand how ridiculous that was? When people were getting killed? Murdered in their homes? Murdered in their backyards? And she was wearing a blue dress with white tights and black Mary Janes? Did anybody understand how out of sync and wrong that was?

“I’ll take you home and you can change. We can drop Max off too.”

The sisters turned to walk away, back to the street and Lola’s car. Lola gave Melody another hug and said, “It’s okay to be Alice. You know that, don’t you?”

Melody shook her head. “No. No, it’s not. Where have I been for the past two years? Baking cupcakes? Dressing in costumes? Dressing poor Max in a thneed? This isn’t life. Not real life. Tonight. Tonight was real life.”

“We all need Alice and cupcakes,” Lola said. “Why do you think Joe was attracted to you in the first place? He needed some whimsy, some Alice in his life.”

A camera flashed, blinding them. Several flashes later, the man behind the camera explained himself. “I’m a reporter for the Pioneer Press. Can I get a statement from you?”

“No,” Melody said, surprised by her rudeness.

“You were witnesses, right? Did you see anything?”

The sisters kept walking.

“Can I at least get a name and phone number?” the reporter shouted after them.