1 Depth of Field (11 page)

On impulse, I chased after her and drew up alongside. “Pattie, if you don’t have a ride, I’m sure David will gladly take you home. I rode with him.”

She glanced at me, but her gaze passed through me. She blinked a few times. “Oh, Makayla. No, I’m okay. I need some quiet time.”

“Are you sure?” I hesitated to leave her in such an obvious dark state. After all, her best friend had stormed away in a huff and without a care apparently to how Pattie would make it home. I can’t say I fully blamed her, Pattie having slapped her and insulted her loud enough for everyone to hear. One would have to be a saint not to be affected, and Susan was far from a saint.

I mulled over the decision to leave Pattie to her own devices.

“I know you think Susan’s a bad person, but she’s not,” Pattie said, and I gaped at her.

She stopped walking. I searched for an appropriate response to this unexpected defense, but found none. So I went with the truth. “I haven’t been here long, Pattie, but I know what I have observed for myself and what others have said.”

She glanced at me, and I gave an apologetic look for listening to gossip.

“The consensus is that Susan has never treated you kindly, and you just took it. All the way back to when you girls were in middle school and your family moved to the area.”

“She was my first friend. I didn’t know anybody.”

“You could have,” I said with bluntness but not unkind. “You can
now
.”

She said nothing.

“Pattie, did you love Alvin?”

I thought she might suddenly start jetting down the street away from me, her eyes went so wide. Then they filled with tears. Great, big drops fell onto her cheeks, and her shoulders shook so hard, she looked like she might break. My heart constricted, and I folded her into my arms to stroke the back of her head as if she were a child.

“I loved him so much, Makayla,” she whispered. “I would have given anything for him to be my husband.
Anything.
Do you understand?”

Oh boy do I understand.
I had been just where she was, and like Pattie, it had gotten me nowhere but in trouble.

After she settled down a little, I drew away and ferreted out a wad of tissue for her to wipe her nose and face. We looked into each other’s eyes, and I think she must have seen a reflection of my past grief, similar to hers. We understood each other. I felt safe to ask the question I needed to.

“Pattie, did you kill Alvin because you couldn’t have him?”

She didn’t even flinch. A fleeting smile appeared on her lips and was gone before I could be sure it had been there. “Who says I couldn’t have him? If anyone deserves to die, it would be Susan. I shouldn’t say that. Life, no matter how awful it’s lived, is precious and gone in an instant.”

There went that bubble of understanding between us loveless girls. One minute Pattie defended Susan. The next she spoke of killing her. After that it was life is precious. Then there was the small smile I was sure she had exhibited. Was Pattie having a mental breakdown? If so, she needed help. I considered talking to David to find out who Pattie’s family was. I thought I had heard a story that she was an only child and both her parents had passed. Mine were living, but we weren’t close. Not after they lost their favorite daughter and I might have had an affair with that daughter’s husband. Yeah, that’s another topic altogether that I did not want to provide mental energy to.

I touched Pattie’s arm. “I wouldn’t feel right about you out here alone, Pattie. Please, let us drive you.”

She gave in at last, and since Spencer was too busy for me to wait for him, we were soon on the road. Pattie sat in the back seat with her knees practically up to her neck, and I sat in the front with David. I glanced at him, subdued, and focused on Pattie.

“I’m sorry, Pattie. I didn’t realize the back seat was so narrow.”

David peered into the rearview mirror. “I would have brought the other car if I had known, honey. Don’t worry. I will speed. Maybe a cute cop will pull me over.”

I rolled my eyes, but Pattie murmured something I didn’t hear. Soon, we pulled to a stop at her house, a midsize rancher on a half-acre of land. She wasn’t in Hillrise but not from my side of town either. David and I bid her good-bye, and he shot off down the road. I clutched the armrest on the door.

“Okay, can we slow down, David? She’s gone.”

He raised a heavy foot off the gas, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are we going to the gathering?” I asked.

“No.”

“That’s all? Just no? Did something happen?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Inna, Makayla?”

“I didn’t know anything,” I lied. “Are they together?”

“No, not really. I think she’s chasing him. He’s sweet and shy but strong too. Just my type.” He moaned. “I can’t compete with a woman.”

I patted his hand. “Not if he isn’t gay, but don’t worry. What’s meant to be will be. Are you giving up?”

“No way, sister! I’m going to that bookstore on Monday, and we’ll just see what happens.”

I laughed. “Okay, well, good luck to both of you. And to Brandon. I think he’ll need it between you two.”

Chapter Eleven

Spencer’s call had taken him away on police business, so I never did get to share my thoughts on the pictures and the jewelry. Now I phoned his cell but got no answer. I paced my tiny apartment, biting a nail. To wait for him was eating me up. I needed to get my hands on my laptop. Just a run through might reveal something. The sun hadn’t gone down, and there were plenty of people still on Main Street, I was sure. Okay, hopeful. Small towns tended to roll up the sidewalks when it neared sundown, and today being Saturday, I didn’t expect a lot of activity out there. Someone would be around though. The weekend was a busy time for Louisa.

When impatience got the best of me, I gave Spencer another call, and the phone went to voicemail. His deep tones came on the line, and I waited for him to finish asking me to leave a message. Then the beep sounded in my ear. “Hi, Spencer, listen, I’m going to pop down to the shop really quickly. I promise I won’t stay long, but I wanted to get my laptop and check out the pictures I have on there. David Kokichi, the jeweler, told me something I think you’ll find interesting. I’ll explain everything when I see you, okay? Don’t worry. Talk to you later.”

I parked in one of my available parking slots and turned off the car. Checking my cell, I found it was five thirty. The sun was a ball of orange at the end of the street. Fall approached, and I could almost feel the chill even though it was still pretty warm out. A quick scan of the street when I stepped out of the car showed I’d been right. Main Street was abandoned for the most part, but a few cars sat in the salon’s lot. I started to walk over there and make them aware that I would be working for a little while but changed my mind. One, I didn’t want to face another scathing remark from Louisa, and two, I felt it would be giving in to paranoia.

I stuck the key into the lock and froze. My throat dried. I jerked around to look behind me, heart aching as it hammered. The street was well lit. The only spot that might be hidden from view was the alley, but I didn’t intend to go back there. A row of tall trees and thick hedges, as well as some fences bordered the properties on the backside of my shop. Unfortunately, the alley was not as well-lit as the street itself, but it didn’t matter. After all, who needed to be there after dark?

The memory of what I had stumbled upon arrested me so that I couldn’t move. I panicked. My hand shook as I held the key, and I willed it to turn. I shut my eyes, bowed my head, and took in a deep breath.
No bodies here.
A low, slightly manic chuckle escaped me.

The lock clicked, and I pushed the door open. Not until it swung wide did I realize I held tension in my shoulders because I had expected the door to bump against another dead body. No need to add to the numbers. One was enough. Imagine feeling safer out on the street than in your own shop. The thought that I might like to break my lease and move somewhere else occurred to me, but I refused to be cowed. I had let life, people, and circumstances drive me in the past. This would not happen again.

I flipped on the lights, and with the door wide open in case I had to run for my life, I searched the place. Front room, darkroom, washroom, and back, all clear. As a precaution I checked the lock to the rear door. At first I was going to open it and scan the alley, then changed my mind. If anyone waited out there, opening the door was a sure way to give them what they wanted. So I settled for touching the lock and being sure it had been turned into position to keep me secure.

I returned to the front of the shop and peered out into the street. The sun was descending fast. I had to get going. Across the street, The Donut Hole’s lights were all off. So were the lights at the bookstore. The gym was open. Good to know. I shut and locked the door.

First, I booted up my laptop and while that was loading, I went through the file cabinets. A moan of agony escaped me. Either the police or the killer had gone through my entire photo collection, even the ones from years ago that had nothing whatsoever to do with Briney Creek. Landscapes, portraits, family photos, even a few crime scenes photos I thought I had gotten rid of were all jumbled into a few folders. The labels on the hanging files had been ignored. My painstaking procedure of making sure none of the photos were in direct contact with each other, but instead were separated by acid-free paper meant nothing.

My heart ached over my precious collection. I couldn’t possibly leave before fixing the mess. Before that, I forced myself to sit down at my desk and log into my online storage account. The digital photo storage was there. I pulled everything up on the screen and began going through each picture one by one. I paid particular attention to every woman I’d taken shots of in town, and I did have a lot. Everyone that is except Susan, Louisa, and of all people, Talia. The thought that Talia might have had an affair with Alvin made me laugh. Yet, I had seen an article recently of a thirty-year-old man dating an eighty-year-old woman. In fact, women old enough to be his grandmothers were his norm. I shivered in revulsion of the preference. A fleeting thought passed through my mind of Talia pawning a necklace Alvin had given her, which would then allow her to buy all the items she had had shipped to her recently. I laughed again and dismissed the notion.

Twice, I went through the photos and then pulled up the ones I stored on my hard drive to compare. The number in both locations differed, which meant I needed to check the hard drive too. I grunted and stretched my hands over my head. My eyes were already dry from concentrating. Maybe I’d give the computer a rest and focus on the file cabinet.

The task proved to be more relaxing than I thought, and soon I sat at a small table across from my desk where I liked to sit down with clients to show them what I could do. Piles of photos spread out over the table, I took my time separating them and laying them with care between sheets of paper. I cherished each photo and wanted to be sure each was handled just right. When I tell you I have thousands, I’m not exaggerating, so I doubted the person who had rifled through them all had found what they were looking for. Unless they had gotten lucky. The problem was I might have catalogued all the old photos but not all the new ones. The killer might have taken one or more and I didn’t know it.

A click. The sound debilitated me. Photos slipped from my fingers, and I’m pretty sure moisture broke out on the skin above my lips in an instant. That couldn’t have been the back door, could it? Not the front? I turned my head to the door not more than a few feet away, but I saw and heard nothing. Maybe it was my imagination. The thin protective sheets stirred as with a breeze. My chest hurt. This was not all in my head.

I considered calling out, “Who’s there,” but that seemed B movie bad. Instead, I scanned the room for something blunt, anything I could crack the intruder over the head with and yes, you guessed it, run for my life. Nothing but a lamp pole, but those tended be made delicately in my opinion. No one would be felled with such a weapon.

My cell phone. I licked my lips and swiveled slowly in my chair. My purse sat on the desk where I had left it, in direct line with the back of the shop. Not the rear door, mind you, but the back all the same. The view was enough to allow me to see who might have come inside if they had moved from the back entrance to the doorway leading in to where I worked. My heart skipped a few beats. I didn’t
want
to see anyone standing there.

I leaned forward in my chair, hands on the arms and pushed off in controlled, slow movements. The stupid chair creaked. I froze, feeling the sound explode across the space. Then it occurred to me if I made no noise at all, the person would assume I had heard them. I affected a yawn but then panicked because it plugged my ears. Let’s not put me down for being an investigator. My nerves were not cut out for it.

Standing, I craned to pick up any sound, but there was nothing further. Out front, a car moved down the street. No other noises reached me, but I refused to relax until I had searched the shop again. As soon as I took a step, my cell phone erupted in my purse, and I let out a little scream. A thump against the wall in the bathroom. I spun, halfway deciding between running for the cell phone and hurtling for the door. My feet tripped me, and I went down hard. My hands came up automatically to break my fall, but somehow I cracked my forehead against the floor. Even with carpet, it hurt. This close to the floor, the scent of carpet cleaning products shot up my nose, and I had the sudden horrid recollection of who and what had lain here before me.

I shoved to my hands and knees, my head spinning. One knee raised, I poised to stand, and material rustled behind me. A shadow moved into my peripheral view. I tried to make a leap for the door, but pain exploded through my head, and then…nothing.

* * * *

“Makayla!”

I moaned. A splitting headache rocketed across my skull.

“Makayla, wake up.”

“Stop shouting,” I begged.

“I would if you open your eyes.” Spencer’s tone only gentled slightly. I blinked up at him and noted the creases between his eyebrows. He was angry, no doubt about it. “Can you sit up?”

I took the hand he offered and sat up. My stomach nearly flipped inside out. I slapped both hands over my mouth and swallowed.

“Breathe and stay still,” he instructed. “It will pass.”

I waited. The nausea eased. When I started to stand, he pressed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m okay, Spencer. I’m not going to throw up anymore.”

His gaze burned into mine. “I told you not to come here without me.”

“Then you shouldn’t have given me the key. I have work to do, and every day I can’t get in here, I lose money.”

“How does that compare to you losing your life?” he snapped.

He was right, and the fear I had felt earlier washed over me. Tears threatened, but I blinked them away. “I’m sorry.”

In answer, gentle fingers probed my hair. I winced when he came across a tender spot. “You have a small bump, no blood, but you should see a doctor to make sure you’re okay.” One hand came around to my face and moved up to my forehead where he brushed the spot I’d bumped when I fell. “A bruise here.”

“That was my own clumsiness,” I admitted, his touch taking my breath again. “I probably look a sight.”

“Your hair is tussled,” he said, examining it. “A shame. It was beautiful after you got it done.”

My mouth fell open. “You noticed?”

“I was distracted at the funeral, but I noticed.”

My heart did pound then—until I recalled why I was on the floor. I stood up with his help, and Spencer’s arm encircled my waist.

“What happened, Makayla? When I called and you didn’t answer, I got worried. I rushed over here and found the back door wide open.”

“My files,” I screeched and broke away from him to check my computer. Then I did cry. All of them were gone. The photos on my hard drive as well as on the online storage. Years of collections deleted and the trash empty. “I’ve got nothing, Spencer. Everything is gone.”

“We’ll get it back,” he said, standing beside me.

“How? That’s the only online storage I had. Everything was on there except some newer photos, and they were on my hard drive. That’s empty too. She waited until I came back to the shop to get to them.”

“She?” Spencer frowned at me.

“Yes, she, whoever wanted the photo erased. She’s got what she wanted now. It’s over.”

Spencer pulled me to my feet. “Come on. I’m taking you to the hospital. Don’t touch anything else. I’m having this place dusted again.”

“You’re being too cautious,” I argued.

“So caution hit you over the head?”

He had a point. All my fight drained away. I wanted to argue, but what was the point? I felt deflated, defeated, and most of all vulnerable. Spencer led me to the door. I climbed into his squad car, and he rounded to the other side. While he spoke into the radio, I didn’t hear a word, but another officer pulled up, spoke with Spencer, and then disappeared inside my shop. Spencer pulled off down the street headed, I assumed, in the direction of the hospital.

He touched my hand across the seats, and I couldn’t help grasping his fingers.

“Cheer up, Makayla. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I know it will, but…”

“We’ll talk to the company you were with. It’s possible they have backup servers that still have your data.”

Hope rose in me. “You really think so?”

“It’s possible.”

“Thank goodness! Let’s call them now.”

“No.”

“Spencer.”

His expression hardened. “I’m taking you to the hospital to let a doctor tell me you’re fine. Afterward, you’re going home to your apartment. You can inquire about the server tomorrow—with me. That’s not happening tonight.”

I have to admit, I liked his concern. A man who put my safety before the job, especially a sheriff, was on my acceptable list. His apprehension might have had something to do with the fact that I hadn’t yet stopped shaking since I woke up, and I still felt a little light-headed and confused.

After the doctor had checked me over and announced that I didn’t have a concussion—hard heads run in my family—he released me with a prescription for a few pain pills. I rode in droopy silence all the way to my place and was only half aware of Spencer guiding me into my apartment building and to my door. Then something soft beneath my head and more darkness.