Her Final Confession

Chapter Sixty-One

The day was interminably long, and even after she had gone home and escaped the bustle of the station and the piles and piles of paperwork on her desk about the Omar and Wilkins murders, Josie still had the horrible feeling she was headed toward certain doom. It wasn’t the press conference. As interim chief, she’d given press conferences nearly once a week. She’d been on Dateline with Trinity three times. It wasn’t even the idea that the killer might come after her. Getting his face and name out into the press would go a long way to finding him. She was guaranteed national press coverage thanks to Trinity. There was a good chance he would be apprehended wherever he was in the country before he even thought about targeting Josie.

She just felt like she was missing something.

What had Gretchen meant when she asked for more time? Time for what?

Moving through the living room, she picked up all of Harris’s toys. She had been so enthralled in her revelation and her phone call to Dr. Larson the night before, she hadn’t even bothered to straighten up. She went upstairs and broke down the co-sleeper, taking a moment to smell the sheet after stripping it from the mattress. It smelled just like him. Like sunshine, fresh air, and fruit.

Back downstairs she turned on the television but didn’t watch it. Her mind brimmed with thoughts about the various cases and Gretchen and her son. She wished she could get it to shut off. Normally in this situation, she would down a half bottle of Wild Turkey and fall asleep on the couch in a perfect, contented, dreamless slumber. Instead, she called Noah. When he answered, she said, “I’m home alone.”

He said, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

He was there in ten. He wasn’t even completely through the front door when she rocked up onto her toes and kissed him, hooking her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. Their hands and mouths were frantic, as though their very lives depended on these moments. By the time they reached Josie’s bedroom, they’d left a trail of discarded clothing from the foyer, up the steps, and down the hall. Noah’s skin was hot against hers. As he lowered her onto the bed, he pulled his head back, looking into her eyes. There was an excruciating stillness in the air around them.

“What?” Josie asked.

“Are you sure about this?”

She had, in fact, never been more certain about anything in her life. She realized then that she hadn’t called him to distract herself from dark thoughts or demons. She didn’t want sex to blot out her anxiety. Sure, a distraction from work was welcome, but she had asked him over because she wanted to be with him.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”