Dead by Any Other Name by Sebastian Stuart

all sorts of filters on my computer.”
    â€œIt’s only for another three years, then you can go away to college.”
    She nodded, then looked down.
    â€œYou didn’t get the shoes to even out your leg,” I said.
    â€œTheir insurance won’t cover it.”
    â€œ I’ll cover it, Josie. I want you to call an orthopedist on Monday. I mean it.”
    â€œThank you. Now tell me everything that’s happening down in Sawyerville.”
    I filled her in on the gang and also on Natasha Wolfson. She leaned across the table, hanging on every word, eyes sparkling, her face alive—she looked like a different girl from the one who’d sat on the couch with her hands in her lap.
    When I was done, she was silent for a minute, then said, “How sure are you that it was murder?”
    â€œI can’t be 100 percent sure, of course, but my gut—and the fact that Natasha was mixed up with so many dubious characters—has me leaning strongly in that direction.”
    â€œYou have to find out who the politician is, of course. And where Pavel was the night she died.” I could see her mind racing over all the possibilities. “Let’s assume it was murder. It’s hard to imagine either Collier or Octavia would be up on a mountain.”
    â€œThen again, when passion is high people find strength they didn’t know they had.” She attacked her roast chicken, took a big bite, and said, “Take me back with you.”
    I froze and then managed: “Today?”
    â€œYeah. Let’s just walk out of here, head to your car, and drive straight down to Sawyerville.”
    Whoa. I felt sweat break out under my arms and along my hairline. The idea was thrilling. Just get in the car, floor it, and bring Josie home. I looked her in the eyes—she was throwing me a serious challenge.
    I had an impulsive streak a mile wide and over the years it had gotten me into a lot of trouble. It took time and therapy, but I’d learned how to rein it in. I took a deep breath. I didn’t know the intricacies or legalities of the foster-parent system. Would it be breaking the law to just spirit this kid away with me? Was it fair to the Maldens? They were well-meaning in their own constricted way. Plus, did I really want Josie back 24/7? Yeah, she was no trouble and helpful as hell and good company, but I didn’t want to be her goddamn mom, did I?
    â€œWouldn’t that be breaking the law?”
    â€œNo. Foster children have the right to find their own living situation. I would inform my case worker and petition family court. They would pay you a visit. Done deal.”
    So she’d looked into the legalities. I just sat there for a moment taking it all in before asking, “How about dessert?”
    Josie laughed, hard and deep, and I had to join her. Sitting in the slanted afternoon sun in Chez Fred we shared a laugh that lifted my spirits right out through the roof and tossed them up into the cloud-splattered Hudson Valley sky.
    â€œJanet, you need me. You don’t really care about that shop and you know it. Things don’t really interest and excite you, people do. And, yes, I’ll take the carrot cake. And a bowl of vanilla ice cream with hot fudge sauce.”
    â€œAnything else?”
    She leaned across the table, put her hand on mine and said, “Sawyerville.”
    I felt a huge wave starting somewhere deep inside me, something so strong it scared me.
    â€œJosie, I have to take a quick walk around the block, I’ll be right back.”
    I gulped air as I strode around the side of the building into an alley. Then the tears just exploded, came and came and came, pouring out of me and over me, swamping me, drowning me, I loved that kid, goddamn it, and she loved me and I loved my baby, my baby …
    Oh fuck, oh fuck …
    I started walking again, the tears drying almost as quickly as they’d come. I was not going down that alley,