Whittaker 03.5 If Nothing Changes (4 page)

After several minutes, and despite a strong resemblance to a Day of the Dead mask - swollen, savaged eyes, mascara smeared from eyebrows to chin, a snot-spigot for a nose - I wet a paper towel, and returned to the lobby.

The police had arrived and were attempting to establish order. Despite having cleared the room of on-lookers, chaos reigned. They’d managed to detach Rhonda from Jay’s back and even though he stood handcuffed between two beefy cops, he looked relieved. Rhonda, also handcuffed, thrashed back and forth between her own holders, attempting a stylized version of flying ninja-judo kicks, while trying to bite her captors. She looked like a serial killer-circus act.

And she certainly wasn’t representing A.A. very well.

Reminding myself that she’d just saved my life, I sighed, then trudged over to introduce the authorities to Jillian’s killer. Surprised them, too. They’d been betting it was Rhonda.