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“No, I want to see if you recognize any of the people in the photos.”
Several minutes later, we’re in the kitchen, peering at her laptop screen.
“Do you know who he is?” She points to a man talking to Wilson. He’s white with light-brown hair, maybe in his early forties, in good shape, medium build, slightly taller than Wilson. There’s nothing about him that stands out.
“He doesn’t look familiar. Maybe he’s from one of the neighboring towns.”
She brings another photo up. Wilson is looking directly at Jess, and something unsettling stirs in my gut. It’s the same feeling I had when I caught him staring at her on Saturday.
“Why’s Wilson watching you?” I ask, curious if she has any idea what his problem is.
“I have no idea. I didn’t notice he was doing that until Saturday night when I was looking at the photos.”
“Maybe he wasn’t thrilled you were taking his picture.” I keep studying the image as if the answer is there on the screen.
“He had no idea I was doing that. I kept the phone waist height, and it wasn’t obvious I was shooting photos. I doubt he knows I captured him staring at me. What if he knows who I am? What if he thinks I really am a cop killer?” Her voice is a strained whisper and her eyes are wide.
“But you aren’t a cop killer. You’re innocent.”
“Not everyone believes I’m innocent. Plenty of people think I’m guilty. Some think I got a lucky break. Others believe I conspired with my lover to kill my husband. I’ve seen comments where people have threatened my life because they still believe I’m a cop killer.”
“I doubt Wilson thinks you’re a cop killer,” I say, even though I’m not sure what he believes when it comes to Savannah or if he has an opinion on her at all. “I doubt he has any idea who you are, Jess. Only Kellan and I know, and that’s because you told us. Your appearance has changed enough since your arrest and initial media coverage that he won’t recognize you. You were released because you were innocent of the crime. So there won’t be any APBs requesting police departments be on the lookout for you.”
“Robyn knows the truth.” Jess’s quiet voice is free of accusation, but the ever-present fear is still there.
“Robyn is your therapist. She told you she wouldn’t tell anyone, and she won’t. I know her. She will keep your secret. What I’d like to know is why Wilson was watching you or if it was just a coincidence.”
“Maybe it was a coincidence.” She closes her laptop. “Or maybe that’s why he arrested you. Because he has an issue with me.”
“The only reason he arrested me is because he’s an asshole.”
Jess wraps her arms around herself. “Just promise me you won’t antagonize him again. I don’t trust him.”
“That makes two of us.” But even knowing that, I can’t find it in me to make the promise.
29
Troy
July, Present Day
Maple Ridge
* * *
Thursday evening, I head to Picnic & Treats, where I’m meeting the festival committee involved with equipment rental and setup.
Jess and Kim are at another table when I enter the café. Kim has a camera in her hand, her long black hair in two loose braids.
I walk over to them and give Jess a quick kiss. “Hey, Kim,” I say to the wife of one of my oldest friends.
She smiles the same teasing grin I grew up with, the compassion that’s all Kim shining in her eyes. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s better. I can dump the sling tomorrow. You guys comparing photography tips?” I nod at the camera in her hands.
She hands it to my girlfriend. “Jess is borrowing one of my old cameras and some of my gear for the wedding she’s shooting since her equipment was lost in a flood two years ago, and she hasn’t had a chance to replace it.” Kim is looking at me and doesn’t see the guilt and sadness flicker in Jess’s eyes. I don’t need my gut to tell me a flood wasn’t what cost Jess her camera. Maybe her dead husband had something to do with what happened to it.
She can afford to buy a new one with the restitution payment, but she hasn’t yet.
