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
The next few hours were teeny snapshots of activity: The paramedics asking her a million questions she couldn't answer.The sound of the jaws of life.The smell of garlic on the ER doc's breath.The chatter of voices around her.A cop leaning over her, asking her questions she struggled to understand.The sting of an IV needle piercing her arm.The banging sound of the MRI machine.The tug of stitches being placed on her head, across her ribs.When Emma was finally able to stay awake for longer than a few seconds at a time, she was in a hospital room, her jeans and tee replaced by a tacky, over-washed hospital gown."She's awake."Emma grunted, her throat too dry to make a sound. Jen was suddenly there, her face appearing over her like some sort of angel. An angel with a seriously broken halo."Hey, babe," she said, her voice soft. "How are you?""Sore," Emma whispered."Yeah, I'm not surprised. That tends to happen when you roll your car five times."Emma gestured towa
When Emma next woke, Steve was sitting in a chair beside her bed."Hey," he said, leaning close and running a finger down the side of her face. "How do you feel?""Like I rolled my car a few times," she said.He smiled, but it wasn't one of those smiles that filled his eyes with that sparkle she had always associated with him, with the happier moments of their time together. It had been a long time since she had seen that.Emma's eyes filled with tears. She turned, stared up at the ceiling."Hey," he said again. He ran his hand over the curve of her jaw. "You're going to be okay.""No," she said, shaking her head, and then regretting it as pain burst through her forehead. "Nothing's ever going to be okay again.""Emma-" he picked up her hand and kissed her palm lightly. "Nothing is set in stone."She just shook her head again.The door opened a moment later. The doctor came in, all business, blustering through a quick exam. When he was done, he handed Steve some paperwork. "Yo
He wanted to know. Said he wanted to understand. So she did it. She told him everything, beginning with the Ranch and ending with the car accident. She didn't hold anything back. And, to his credit, he sat quietly and listened.When she was done, silence settled between them. Emma curled up on the end of the couch, her thoughts wrapped around Tommy, around her loss. She couldn't let it go, this feeling of missed opportunity."He died because of me."Steve glanced at her. He was perched on the coffee table in front of her, his hands clutched in his lap."Who could have stolen the film?"Emma shook her head. "I don't know." She reached up to run her fingers through her hair, but remembered the stitches just as her fingers brushed over them. The pain helped, though. It cleared her mind a little. "They were there Sunday night. I remember seeing them.""How much time would it take someone to develop them?"She shrugged. "If they took them to a local place? A day. Maybe less. Only a f