for you, but what could he do with all that remote, ice-queen bullshit?’
Jodie blinked. It wasn’t the first time her self-protective shell had been mistaken for coldness. But she’d learned things the hard way: better by far to appear distant than afraid.
Novak was glaring at her, and she wondered just what he had at stake that had got him so riled up. He leaned forward, and when he spoke again his voice was low.
‘You said in court that Ethan was a monster.’
Jodie felt her posture stiffen. Novak went on.
‘You said he was evil, twisted.’
‘I won’t talk about this, I told you.’
‘A family annihilator, isn’t that what your defence attorney called him? A father who kills his own child?’
Jodie flinched. Her hearing seemed to tune in and out, Ethan’s voice washed in on the ebb and flow.
‘The water wasn’t cold, she didn’t wake up.’
Her gut churned.
‘Your attorney brought up other family annihilator cases,’ Novak said. ‘Other fathers, cold-bloodedly murdering their own children. Devoted family men, losing control.’
‘Stop it—’
‘Happens more often than people think, right? Several cases a month, your attorney said. All those monsters. Just like Ethan.’
Jodie managed a whisper. ‘I can’t do this, I told you—’
‘Only no one believed you, did they? No one believed he was a monster.’ Novak’s eyes were latched on to hers. ‘Well, I may be the only person who does.’
Jodie turned to go. Novak jerked to his feet.
‘Wait!’
She shook her head, moved away.
‘Listen to me Jodie, you need to hear this.’ Novak’s voice grew urgent, louder. ‘Ethan is still alive.’
Jodie froze. Then slowly, she turned around.
Novak was on his feet, his chair kicked back. Beneath the rumpled shirt, his frame was stocky, the bedraggled hair and stubble giving him a wild, mountain-man look. She shook her head.
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Didn’t you ever wonder about the bullets?’
She shook her head again and turned away. His voice rose over the racket in the room.
‘They said four shots had been fired from the gun, but you only took two. Didn’t you ever wonder about that?’
Jodie halted, keeping her back to him. ‘So maybe I fired more, I don’t remember. Does it matter?’
‘You swore in court you only fired two. Should’ve been seven rounds left in the gun, so why were there only five?’
‘Maybe I only started with seven bullets.’
‘You said you loaded a full magazine. Nine rounds.’
Clack-snap. Nine bullets loaded.
Jodie squeezed her eyes shut, driving the memory away. Then she spun round to face him. ‘What the hell does it matter how many shots I fired? However many it took, Ethan is dead.’
‘The prosecution claimed you fired a round into the gas tank of the car.’
‘I don’t remember doing that. Why the hell would I do that?’
‘To finish him off in the explosion, is what they said.’
‘I know what they said, but Ethan was already dead. I shot him, for God’s sake. Point blank range. There was blood, it hit my face—’ She clamped her mouth shut, inhaled deeply through her nose.
‘You may have shot him,’ Novak said. ‘But you didn’t kill him.’
She opened her mouth to object, but his gaze had moved past her, his expression guarded. She flicked a look over her shoulder. The Officer in Charge was scowling in their direction, motioning at them to sit down. Jodie glanced back at Novak, intending to wrap things up, but he cut across her.
‘Ethan was in Belize less than two weeks ago and I can prove it.’
The skin on Jodie’s arms puckered. Novak’s eyes burned into hers. She checked on the Officer in Charge who was now striding in their direction, and with a twinge of misgiving, she stepped back to the table, yanked out her chair and sat down. Novak took his seat opposite hers, but before he could speak, she leaned forward and said,
‘This is pointless. I don’t know who was in Belize, but Ethan is dead. His body was in the car.’
‘That wasn’t his body.’
‘Oh, come on.’
‘I’m serious. The body wasn’t his. Did you identify it?’
‘No, I didn’t identify it, the fire in the car made that impossible. But I didn’t need to, the dental records confirmed it was Ethan.’
‘Yeah, the dental records. I’ve got a theory about those.’
‘A theory? Jesus.’ Jodie flopped back against the chair. ‘This is the basis of your story? A theory?’
‘Come on, humour me a second.’ Novak shoved a hand through his wayward hair. The brown curls looked tough and springy; irrepressible. ‘Let’s back up a bit. How much do you really remember about the last moments in the car?’
‘I went over all this in court, you said you were there.’
‘Please, bear with me. How much do you remember?’
Jodie rolled her eyes. ‘Not much. I know I took a second shot, but after that, nothing.’
‘Why two shots?’
‘I explained all that. The first shot was for Ethan, the second one was supposed to be for me.’ She indicated herself with a sweeping flick of her hand. ‘Obviously, I missed.’
‘Maybe you didn’t.’
She squinted at him, and he went on.
‘Maybe you had to change your plan. Maybe when it came to it, you needed that second bullet for Ethan. Because you knew the first one hadn’t killed him.’
‘The gun was inches from his head.’
‘But the car was speeding, swerving all over the road. You said
