Emma moved through the room, her hand caught fast in Steve's. Jen was across the room, obediently following Ray through the crowd with a hand on the small of his back. She caught Emma's eye and made a funny face. Emma smiled, grateful for someone in this crowd of strangers who understood her.Someone snapped a picture, the flash pulling Emma back to the conversation going on around her. She nodded politely at the wife of some business man who was standing to her left. The woman didn't notice, however. Her eyes were stuck on Steve and only Steve.It was the second event in so many days. Not the way she wanted to spend her Saturday. Emma's jaws still hurt from all the smiling she had done the night before. She was grateful there was nothing planned for tomorrow. She had three rolls of film sitting on her desk back home that she was anxious to develop. Three rolls with thirty-five frames each of Tommy. Hmm-just the idea sent a tingle through her still sore body.Steve looked down at
"Education is the most important issue on the political agenda today. Our children are our future, yet we have failed to give them the education they need to make a difference in the world. Half of all high school students in the state of Texas will not graduate. The rest will struggle to meet basic entrance requirements for major universities across the country. This is unacceptable."Emma tried to listen as Steve made his speech. But she was distracted by a text message that seemed to be burning a hole from her phone through the pocket of her skirt. She knew the vibration meant that Tommy had written to her. Knew it because everyone else who mattered was here in this room. She could see Jen watching her from a front table, could feel her mother's eyes from the back of the room. Even her boys were there, playing in a back room with the very capable Sunday school teacher from the local Baptist church. They had traded cellphone numbers on Thursday before she left him, before she left
Steve left an hour later. Emma meant to spend the rest of the day in her dark room, three rolls of film calling to her with the urgency she felt to develop them. But, like the day before, there always seemed to be something more important to do. Instead, she found herself curled up on the couch with one child in her lap and the other at her feet, an Iron Man movie in the DVD player and a bowl of popcorn half-forgotten on the coffee table."Why does Pepper get to use his suit, Mom?" Justin asked."He was protecting her.""But I thought only he could use it.""She's not using it, dummy," Seth said. "She's just hiding.""Not exactly," Emma said, knocking Seth with her foot. "And don't call your brother a dummy.""Sorry."Steve called as the credits began to play. Emma handed the phone to Justin, then gathered their glasses and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher. Seth came into the room a few minutes later. "He wants to talk to you, Mom."She slipped the phone from his ha
Emma dropped the day's mail on Steve's desk. A manila envelope addressed to Steve in bold letters caught her eye. The writing was done in magic marker and there was no return address. And no stamp. Someone had to have put it in the mailbox themselves.Very clandestine. She smiled. Probably just campaign materials.She stepped out into the hall, about to call up to the boys when she felt a little pinch in her abdomen. She touched the spot, hoping it wasn't an indication that her period was about to start. She had been irregular for a few months. Stress did that. But she was supposed to meet Tommy tomorrow afternoon. It would be just her luck-"Boys, you're going to be late if you don't hurry up!"Right on cue, they came running down the stairs, their feet like a herd of elephants on the stairs. They paused in front of her, each dressed in a pair of shorts, each skidding across the foyer on the sleek plastic of their cleats. Justin's shin guards were almost too big for him, making
Emma slowed as she reached the dead end street where Tommy lived. She wasn't sure what she had expected to see. Nothing, really. She wanted it to look like it always had, a long, tree lined drive that ended in a single car garage. She wanted the house to be bright, for music to be playing low on the sound system. She wanted it to be like it had been the last time she was there.But as she slowly passed the few houses along the road, houses with cars parked out front, windows shuttered, she knew something was different. There were no visible cues, but there was a difference, just the same.And then she approached his drive.The gravel was different, rutted in a way it hadn't been before. There had been a lot of cars here.She pulled boldly into the driveway, no longer caring who might see her.And then she saw the crime scene tape.It felt as though someone had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out.She stopped not even halfway down the drive. It had rained last night.
"What are you doing here? How did you know I would be there?""I'm trying to help you, believe it or not."Alvarez studied her across the tight confines of her car. There was pity in his eyes. It made Emma's spine stiffen, made her push down the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her. She scrubbed at her tears again, rubbing so hard against her eyes that she saw stars for a brief moment."Someone knows about your affair with Thomas Morgan."The sound of his name made her bottom lip weaken for a moment. She looked out the window and took a deep breath. "No one knows," she said."Someone does." Alvarez pulled out his cellphone and pulled up something before handing it to her. Emma hesitated. She didn't want to talk to this man, didn't want to talk about Tommy to someone who hadn't known him. But he insisted, jabbing the phone in her direction. When she took it, she had to concentrate to make her eyes focus on the tiny print."Want a good story about Emma Hamilton?" a text mess
It was completely ridiculous, but the first thing Emma felt was relief."Murder?" she asked."He was found just like this," he said, gesturing with his phone. "Whoever this woman is, whoever put this rope around his throat, killed him."Emma touched the screen of his phone again and watched as it began to play. "Autoerotic-asphyxiation," she said.Alvarez nodded.She shook her head. "Take it back to the beginning."Alvarez rewound the video. As it began to play, Emma took it out of his hands and studied Tommy's face. "Is he drugged?" she finally asked.Alvarez leaned over so that he could see the screen, too. "Why?"She paused the video as the camera focused on his face. "He looks out of it. Like he just woke up."Alvarez nodded. "I noticed that, too.""But who takes a nap naked on the floor with the pillow under their knees instead of their head?""What are you thinking?""That he told me this was something he would never do."Alvarez turned to Emma. "You talked about thi
"What is that?""Where?""On the beam."He rolled over, looking up into the rafters of his house. "You can see that?"She laughed. "I have very good vision, I'll have you know.""You must." He laughed, too. "You're the first person to notice them."She moved into his arms. "Why do you have cameras on your beams?""It was part of a security system. But they've been modified.""Modified to do what?""To take video.""You take video of people in your bedroom?" She pulled away, pushing at the pillows as she moved into a sitting position. "You make sex films?""No, not really," he said, sitting up and trying to tug her into his arms. She moved away. "Emma," he said, reaching for her arm, but she slipped out of his reach.She walked through his house with her head rolled back on her spine, searching all the beams that crisscrossed his ceilings. She saw another, then another, still another. There were at least six, maybe seven."What are they for?"He was standing against the wa