Disclaimer: "LOST" is the property of ABC. Title and lyrics from the song "Monster" by Charlotte Martin.
"I can't believe the monster I have hidden in my mouth; it has to scream" -- Charlotte Martin, "Monster"
It was Bea who told her. She handed the photographs to Juliet mutely, and Juliet leaned against the door frame for support, or perhaps just the illusion that she needed support. Though there really was no point in pretending for Bea, who had an uncanny knack for seeing straight through falseness. Juliet had always found this unsettling, even when all of her actions hadn't been taken under a veil of pretense and lies.
She looked from the grainy photos to Bea's expressionless face, feeling, insanely, as though she might start laughing. Instead, she asked bluntly, "When?"
"Yesterday, probably," Bea replied, as if she were delivering a statement on the weather.
Juliet was impressed with how absolutely emotionless she felt, holding these pictures. And not the lack of emotion that usually came with shock, either. This was a state of absolute indifference. She hadn't realized how little she had cared until this moment, but staring at Goodwin's lifeless body, his face twisted into a grimace, she felt nothing, neither sadness nor anger, nor anything else. Funny how she had turned into someone who could sleep with a person, wake up in the morning and look at him sleeping next to her, and feel nothing. Or, maybe, funny how she had turned into someone who could sleep with a person solely to hurt someone else.
"What did Ben say?" Juliet asked, a humorless, dark smile on her face.
Bea's expression didn't change. "I haven't told him." Juliet knew that shock flashed across her face, and she thought she saw Bea smile very slightly before she went on, "I thought you'd like to know first."
Dropping her arms to her sides, the photos with them, Juliet asked, "Where did you get these?" What she really wanted to do was ask, 'Why? Why tell me first?' But that would have required a truthfulness that she had lost quite awhile ago.
Of course. That man's electronic omniscience had always disturbed her, even more than the inordinate amount of time she knew Bea spent out at the Flame.
"Do you want to know how?" Bea asked, watching Juliet with her unnerving stillness.
She felt the irrational desire to laugh bubbling up inside her again, and it wormed its way out of her as a smile; a grimace, really, amusing only in its inappropriateness. "Does Mikhail know that, too? Does he have pictures? Video, maybe?" Bile, unbidden, colored her tone.
Bea's expression didn't flicker this time, either, but Juliet thought she might have annoyed the other women with her jab at Mikhail. "Cortez killed him."
"Cortez..." A hazy image floated into Juliet's mind. Ben had mocked her -- in that careful, exacting way of his -- that Goodwin seemed fond of Cortez. Juliet hadn't cared.
Bea's eyes flicked to the pictures hanging loosely at Juliet's side. "I need those back." She hesitated -- odd, for her. "To tell Ben. But you can keep one if you'd like."
"Why would I want one?" Juliet asked, arching a delicately scathing eyebrow. She began to lift the photos to hand them back, but a thought struck out of nowhere and she drew them back to herself. "I'll tell Ben."
That surprised Bea. Her shock was almost comical. "You?"
"You've been all the way out to the Flame today. This will give me something to do."
Bea narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Something to appreciate, at least. "If that's what you want."
Juliet only smiled -- coldly -- before turning and walking away to inform Ben that he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Her lover was dead. She would remember the inevitable smugness on his face when she killed him.