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“Maybe you did,” I offer, still thrown by this revelation. Cam Harper and Eve holding hands? “When did this happen?” I ask.
“In the morning, on the way to school. It was weird.” Nick drums his fingers on the counter. He’s getting restless.
“And you told the police this?”
“Yeah.” Nick shrugs. “At least I’m pretty sure. Your dad must have made note of it somewhere.”
“I thought Dex Stroope interviewed you,” I said, “but you talked to my dad?”
“Yep, just once. I did talk to the new chief when he was working for the sheriff’s department. Three or four times. I’ve got to say, it made me really nervous. He was awful to me. Treated me like a criminal.”
That didn’t really sound like Chief Digby. From what I could tell, he was the epitome of decorum and respect when it came to suspects. That didn’t mean he was soft—he would never have made chief. He just played good cop really well.
I remember my dad saying that Nick was cleared and that he hoped people would stop dragging his name through the mud. “Well, he was just doing his job,” I say. “What else can you tell me about Cam Harper?”
“Nothing really. Just that Eve was ready to quit babysitting for them. Said that Harper made her real uncomfortable but it was the only way she had to make money so she kept doing it.”
“And you told my dad this?” I ask again. Nick nods. “But not Stroope or Digby?”
“No, by that time I was the main suspect,” Nick says. “Besides, I had a lawyer and she wasn’t letting me say much.”
“Will you let me know if you think of anything else?” I ask him. “Even the smallest detail?”
“Sure,” Nick says, walking me past displays of rustic pottery and hand-poured candles to the door. “I miss her too,” he calls as I push through the door. I almost believe him.
I turn back to him. “How’d you find out?” I ask. “About Eve?”
“My mom woke me up and told me the next morning,” Nick says, his forehead furrowing at the memory. “It was awful. I really don’t need this, Maggie. I was cleared twenty-five years ago and now you’re telling me that I might have to go through all of this again. Eve’s mom told everyone who would listen that I killed her and Nola is just freakin’ nuts. Things finally died down and now they are going to be all over me again. It’s going to be a shit show.”
“I have no intention of letting this become a shit show, Nick,” I assure him, “but I have to do my job.”
“Then check out Cam Harper,” Nick insists.
“I will,” I say. “But do me a favor, Nick. Don’t say anything about Cam Harper to anyone. I don’t want him to get wind that I’ll be talking to him. Sometimes it’s better when they don’t see you coming, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, sure. Just keep Nola Knox out of my face, okay?”
I try not to roll my eyes. “You’ve got my card.”
Either Nick is lying about Cam Harper to deflect any suspicion or my dad didn’t think it was important enough to note. The third option is more disconcerting. Was my dad’s memory failing way back then? I do this a lot—scan my brain for any evidence, any precursors that might have warned us of what was to come.
As I leave Nick’s shop and step back into the heat of the day, I think of the night that Nola and I found Eve and banged on Vivian Benson’s door for help. My dad came to take us to the police station to be questioned. I sat in a chair in a conference room, shivering despite the blanket that Mrs. Benson had wrapped around me. I want to go home, I told him. I don’t feel good, I cried. I can’t stop seeing her face.
You can’t leave just yet, honey, he said. We’ve got to find out what happened to Eve and we need your help. He kissed my cheek. I love you, he whispered. It’s going to be okay.
But it wasn’t okay. My stomach twisted and cramped and a wave of nausea rolled over me. I rushed to the bathroom, and when I emerged, my dad laid a cool hand against my forehead.
She’s feverish, he told the sheriff. She needs to go home and go to bed. You can ask her more questions tomorrow.
They finally let us go home and as I leapt from the car I was aware of Cam Harper’s eyes following me on my way to the house. I passed my pale, wide-eyed brother and ran up the steps to the bathroom where I slammed and locked the door as a new round of sobs coursed through my body. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot spray of water pound over me. I scrubbed at my face with a washcloth, trying to scour away Eve’s cracked skull and blood-matted hair from behind my eyes.
As I drive away from Nick’s shop I think about what he said about Cam Harper. Could it be true? Could Cam have gone after Eve? For a long time, I thought I was the only one. Stupid, naïve, I know. I was just too caught up in my own melodrama to pay attention to what was going on around me.
As much as I don’t want to, I’m going to have to visit the Harpers and I’m going to have to talk to Cam Harper. The last thing I want is for anyone to find out about my relationship with my neighbor. Not relationship, I chide myself. It wasn’t my fault. I was fifteen. I was a child. And though I thought I was in love with him, it wasn’t a relationship. It was manipulative, sick and against the law. As much as I tell myself this, I still haven’t come forward and told my story. I’ve never even told Shaun.
From afar, I’ve kept my eye on Cam Harper. I know men like this don’t stop. I’ve watched his comings and goings to see if he has targeted another young girl. So far, I’ve come up with nothing but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. Predators like Cam work hard not to get caught.
