“She looks so happy,” Paige murmured. “And free.”
“She does,” Jack agreed quietly. “It’s…”
“Disquieting,” Paige finished when he trailed off. “Seeing her like this and knowing what happened to her. It’s kind of horrible.”
Jack nodded, clicking back a few more photos. More and more photos of Cynthia showed up, sometimes in a series of photos obviously taken on the same day, and other times just one quick shot as though Rachel had been unable to help herself from taking it. In each photo, Cynthia smiled so brightly that Paige could hardly believe it was the same, sad woman that she had been helping.
The pictures spoke of a world that Paige hadn’t known existed. A world in which Cynthia had managed to find her place, managed to find true happiness. Only Rachel had seen that world, through the lens of a camera, and she had documented every part of it that she could.
“They had an entire life together,” Paige said, shaking her head as they came across a photo of Cynthia laughing in a kitchen, a smear of flour on her cheek as she held a wooden spoon awkwardly. “How could no one have known about this? According to the dates on this camera, this relationship began a good five months ago…”
She trailed off, suddenly realizing something. Three months ago, Cynthia and Olivia had signed off on their new business, but, barely days later, Cynthia had turned around and sold her shares without a word to her friend. Had Rachel been the reason she had decided so suddenly to divorce her husband? Had her relationship with Rachel been so important to her that she was willing to uproot her life?
“I think you might be right,” Jack agreed when she shared her thoughts. “We were stuck on a reason Cynthia had decided on a divorce when she hadn’t said anything to anyone before that. But if she was seeing this woman, that might explain it.”
“We haven’t seen anything that conclusively says they were together, though,” Paige said, leaning back with a sigh. “Have you seen Rachel in any photos with Cynthia?”
“Just one,” Jack said, clicking a few times until he reached the photo in question.
Rachel had obviously asked someone else to take it for them. The two women stood closely together, Cynthia with her arm around Rachel, and they beamed at the camera.
“One is enough. It proves a connection, at least,” Paige pointed out. “As for evidence of the relationship, we just have to keep looking. There has to be something here.”
Nearly another fifty photos in, they finally found what they were looking for. The first picture was innocent enough: Cynthia sleeping peacefully on a bed in a small room which Paige recognized instantly as Rachel’s room at the inn. It hadn’t changed at all since this photo was taken, it appeared.
The next photo was more obvious: Cynthia on the bed again, but lying on her stomach, looking up at the camera with a seductive smile. A white sheet, her only covering, pooled around her.
“This is about the time Cynthia started talking about divorce,” Paige murmured, looking at the date stamp. “Maybe this is when Cynthia and Rachel really started getting serious.”
“It could be,” Jack agreed. “But we can’t know for sure.”
Continuing on, they found photos of Cynthia in various poses and in different states of dress; there were a few of her in her underwear, a handful of her covered artfully by sheets and blankets, and, finally, as the time stamps grew later and later, some of her completely nude. The last photo of her was one of these, and it was dated the Monday night before she disappeared.
“Looks like we’ve found it,” Jack said, grimly satisfied. “It looks like Rachel Horne might have been the last person to see Cynthia alive. We’ll need to bring her in for questioning.”
“Do you think she could have done it, though?” Paige asked, frowning. “Looking at those photos… Cynthia and Rachel looked so happy together. And Cynthia was getting a divorce, likely for Rachel. Why would Rachel kill her?”
“I thought you were the one that liked to come up with theories,” Jack teased. “Don’t underestimate crimes of passion, Paige. Maybe the divorce took too long. Or maybe Cynthia was the only one who was really serious about the relationship and Rachel wanted to end things quickly.” He shrugged. “It could have just been an accident; Rachel might not have realized that Cynthia was allergic to certain medicines, and she panicked when she died.”
“That doesn’t really fit though, since Cynthia obviously tried to fight her killer off,” Paige reminded him.
“For now, we just need to ask questions,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair and stretching. “As I said, we need to get Rachel in for questioning. I’ve also taken DNA from her camera, which we can compare to the DNA from under Cynthia’s fingernails.”
“What sort of DNA can you get off a camera?” Paige asked curiously.
“Hair, mostly,” Jack said, grinning at her interest. “We also have her fingerprints now, which will be useful. That was actually harder than expected; Rachel obviously takes good care of her camera.”
“Speaking of the camera…” Paige began. “What about this being illegal evidence?”
“Like I said at the inn, it’s not illegal if a well-meaning citizen happened to find the camera and brought it to the police,” Jack said. “You found the camera somewhere and checked the photos to see if you could identify the owner. When you saw photos of Cynthia, you brought it in.” He rolled his eyes at her surprise. “You’re not the only one who can think their way through loopholes, Paige.”
That startled a laugh out of her, and she gave Jack a fond smile. He really did always surprise her; it was one of the reasons he had always held her interest, even when they were teenagers. She could never predict his behavior.
Jack unplugged the camera from the computer and stood, grimacing as he rubbed his sore neck; they had been at this for some time, after all. He took the camera to the office door and had a short conversation with Jackson before handing it over.
“Jackson took the camera to the boardroom, where we’ve been collecting our evidence,” Jack explained at her curious look. “What little we have, anyway. If we could just get our hands on the medication Cynthia took, we might catch a break. With everyone’s fingerprints on file, we might be able to figure out who gave the pills to her.”
“Unless they wiped their fingerprints away,” Paige pointed out. “Which would be likely if this was planned.”
Jack nodded and sat down, leaning back in thought. As he stared at the ceiling, linking his hands across his stomach, he sighed.
“Not much we can do now,” he said, “except track down Rachel. Jackson will head out to the Inn at Otter Crest now and see if he can figure out her movements for the day. I just have to wait until he calls.”
That meant that there was nothing more to do today. Unbidden, Paige’s heart beat a little faster; she and Jack hadn’t spoken about last night at all. Now, in a lull, was probably the best time to broach the subject.
“Hey…” she started, faltering slightly when Jack turned his head to look at her. She felt oddly vulnerable. “Look, I wanted to talk about last night.”
Jack’s face went black. Paige drew in a deep breath; she didn’t know where this was going to go, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer. She had to tell him how she felt.
“I’m sorry,” Jack blurted before she could speak.
“What?” Paige asked, startled.
Jack looked away. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.” He breathed in deeply. “We work really well together, Paige, and I don’t want any awkwardness to come between us. So maybe we should just forget about it?”
“Oh,” Paige said numbly. “Yeah… I can do that.”
“Thanks,” Jack sighed, throwing her a quick smile.
“It’s okay,” Paige mumbled. She stood. “I’m going to get something to eat. Want anything?”
Jack shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
Paige nodded back and walked away. Her heart had calmed to normal
rhythm now, but she didn’t quite understand the sudden tightness in her chest. She hadn’t expected that turn of events at all.
It’s all right, she told herself. Things like this happen all the time. It was probably just infatuation, anyway. I just need a new project; maybe I’ll look at buying an inn. Something like that would be really good for me.
Yes, she could definitely do that. She could imagine it now: meeting people from all over the country, hearing about their lives and families and jobs. It would be a peaceful life, but she had come here for peace anyway, right? The thought would have cheered her just yesterday. But now, it couldn’t diminish the growing ache.
At least no one was around to see her brush at her eyes as she left the station, trying desperately to convince herself that it would be all right.
16
The First Move
Had he done the right thing?
After Paige left the office, claiming hunger, Jack wondered for the first time whether it was a good idea to pretend that last night hadn’t affected him. He leaned against his desk with a groan. All he could think about was the soft feel of Paige’s lips against his.
But when he thought about that, he remembered the vulnerability in her eyes. She had been disorientated after what had happened yesterday, and she had clearly been seeking comfort of some sort. If it hadn’t been so late, he might have pushed her away the moment she kissed him, but he had been disoriented himself and couldn’t help but respond.
Once she had pulled away, he had come back to his senses. He hadn’t been sure she was thinking clearly. In the morning, she might think about all this differently, he’d thought, and he wouldn’t take advantage of her.
Part of him had wanted to talk about it because he hadn’t wanted to make assumptions about how Paige felt. The moment she had started a conversation about it, however, Jack had panicked, certain that she was about to say that she regretted it and that she didn’t feel anything more than friendship for him.
Maybe he had jumped the gun, though. Paige had looked surprised at his words, even if she had agreed with him readily. Was she surprised because he had said it first, or because that hadn’t been what she was going to say?
He couldn’t even talk to her about it, now. He had effectively shut down that line of conversation, and it would be too awkward to ask her what she thought after behaving as he had.
With a groan, he tilted his head back. Why was this so hard?
His ringing phone derailed his train of thought. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled it out and saw that it was Jackson calling; he had no doubt already made the short drive up to the Inn at Otter Crest and was phoning to give him news about Rachel.
“Sheriff, Rachel Horne doesn’t appear to be here,” Jackson said the moment that Jack picked up the phone, not bothering with niceties. “I spoke to the receptionist; she said Rachel left early this morning to look for a camera that she had lost.”
“The camera we currently have,” Jack said with a roll of his eyes. It seemed that Rachel had assumed she had absent-mindedly left her precious camera somewhere. “Did the receptionist know where she might have gone?”
“She didn’t say.”
“All right, stay where you are in case she returns,” Jack instructed, mind whirling with possibilities. “I’ll check out some other places she could be.”
Hanging up, Jack glanced at the clock. It had been fifteen minutes since Paige had left, and he wondered whether she planned on coming back. She would want to know about this, though, either way. He stepped toward the door, a plan to chase her down in his mind, then he sat back down heavily. He wasn’t sure how to face her, if he was honest. But he needed to tell her what Jackson had said.
Guess that’s what phones are for, he thought wryly, picking his own up again.
Disconnecting the call with Jack, Paige ran a hand down her face.
Snap out of it, she told herself severely. There’s still a case to solve.
Despite her personal feelings, they still needed to track down Rachel Horne. She didn’t have time to think about her relationship with Jack, not while they were still trying to find a murderer. There would be time enough to think about it later. For now, she had to push it all to the back of her mind and focus on Rachel.
She wasn’t sure whether the woman’s disappearing act was suspicious or not. She had no idea that the police were currently looking for her, and it made sense that she would go out to search for her camera after noticing it was gone.
Those actions would have been entirely benign if not for the way that Rachel had first denied any knowledge of Cynthia and then had failed to come forward when it was clear that they were looking for people who knew Cynthia. Perhaps she just hadn’t wanted to come under suspicion, but her actions had made her more suspicious than ever.
If she were Rachel, Paige thought, where would she go now? Looking at her photos, it was clear that she had been interested in taking pictures of the scenery around Otter Rock. Paige just had to think back to where Rachel had taken her most recent photos; that would tell her where Rachel had been yesterday and the most likely place she would go first.
She tried to think back to the first few photos they had looked at. At first, she couldn’t remember if any of them had been dated yesterday; Rachel had taken far fewer photos following Cynthia’s death. Slowly, though, she remembered that there had been two, each of them showing the familiar scenery of Beverly Beach State Park.
Which was exactly where Paige currently was.
She hadn’t lied when she left the office to get something to eat. She had gotten a sandwich from the nearby café, but she hadn’t been able to bear returning to the office just yet. Remembering the peace and privacy of the state park, she had driven out here to get her head on straight so that she could continue working with Jack without letting on how upset she was. Now, it looked as though that was a blessing in disguise.
If Rachel was here, Paige knew exactly where she would be. Paige’s feet automatically carried her away from the campsite, following the same path she had run down several nights before when the scream had pierced the air upon the discovery of Cynthia’s body.
Her hunch proved to be correct; as she got closer, Paige viewed a solitary form sitting on the edge of the cliff, huddled against the chilling wind. She couldn’t help but think Rachel looked as if she should have someone sitting next to her, as if she still leaned slightly into someone no longer there. Paige walked closer still, able to make out Rachel staring into the ocean, face turned from the sunlight. Paige hesitated for a moment and then sent a message to Jack before heading toward her.
The crashing waves masked the sound of Paige’s footsteps as she approached Rachel, but the woman looked up when her shadow fell over her. She had obviously been crying, her face blotchy and eyes red, but the blank expression on her face now made Paige suppress a shudder. “Hollow” was the best word Paige could think of to describe the look in Rachel’s eyes.
“Rachel Horne?” she asked.
“I know you,” Rachel said dully. “You were at the search the other day. You asked me if I knew Cynthia.”
“I did,” Paige agreed. “You said you didn’t know her.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” She sighed and looked away, her dark hair falling over her eyes. “I guess you’re here because I lied.”
“Did you know Cynthia Johnson?” Paige asked, despite the fact that she already knew; the photos had made it perfectly clear.
“Cynthia was… a very good friend to me,” Rachel managed. She closed her eyes. “We kept our friendship secret from everyone. In case we found Cynthia alive, I thought it would be better to keep pretending, but then…”
After Cynthia’s body had been found, there was no point pretending any more. Paige’s heart ached at the raw pain in Rachel’s voice, and she watched as the other woman looked away, tears clinging to her eyelashes. This was someone who had lost everything.
“I came out here to find my camera,
” Rachel continued after a moment. It seemed as though she could no longer keep her words to herself now that someone knew her secret. “I misplaced it, you see, which really is just the icing on the cake. The photos on it are all I have left of her. When I couldn’t find it… I came here, to where they found her. But now it looks like nothing ever happened here.”
The area had been cleaned completely after the police had gathered all the evidence they could. The police tape had been taken away, and it would be hard to guess that a body had been found here just recently.
“How close, exactly, were you to Cynthia?” Paige prompted.
Rachel sighed and stood, brushing dirt off her pants.
“I should have said something to someone before now. It looks pretty suspicious, right?” Rachel grimaced. “But Cynthia was the most important person in my life. She was… special. We were very close.”
“It does seem suspicious. At the very least, the police will want to question you.”
“Cynthia and I were very good friends,” Rachel snapped, eyes narrowing. “I have nothing to hide.”
“But you did hide,” Paige countered, watching her closely. “And terrible things can happen, even between close friends.”
She caught a glimpse of Rachel’s suddenly blazing eyes before she found herself on the ground, cheek stinging. Stunned, she looked up to see the other woman standing over her, hand still raised. A part of her noted that it was impressive that Rachel was capable of packing such a punch.
“Cynthia… I would never have hurt her! Never!” Rachel screamed. Tears fell from her eyes, trailing quickly down her cheeks. “She was… she was my life! I wouldn’t have hurt her!”
“Okay… okay,” Paige said carefully, standing up slowly and holding her hands out in front of her. “I can hear what you’re saying, okay? But you need to understand; there are many ways the situation could have played. We have to look at all the possibilities.”
“Then why aren’t you looking at her husband?” Rachel demanded with a sob. “That son-of-bitch… he did this! I know he did!”
Secrets of a Small Town Page 10