by April Wilson
Sam hands my phone back, but it’s Lia he’s looking at. “I’ll take her to Jamie’s.”
Lia nods, if a little bit reluctantly. “You need to talk to Shane, Beth,” she says. “He needs to know about this.”
I shake my head as hot tears stream down my face. “I can’t face him, Lia,” I say, staring at an image of the man I love – the man I’m supposed to marry in two weeks – kissing another woman. “I just can’t.”
Lia grabs my phone. “I’m forwarding these pics to my phone. Jonah and I will go to Shane’s office and show him the images.”
“Lia, no – ”
She shushes me. “Yes. He needs to see these.”
“He’s not at his office,” I tell her. “Diane said he left the office and didn’t say where he was going or when he’d be back.”
Lia’s mouth tightens. “Well, he sure as fuck didn’t leave to meet Luciana on the street for a public make-out session, I can promise you that.”
After she forwards the images to her own phone, Lia hands me back mine. Then she pulls me into her arms for a hug, and I latch onto her for dear life.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” she whispers to me. “Don’t worry.”
Lia heads back to our table, and Sam remains behind with me. After I rinse out my mouth, I dab my wet cheeks with a fresh paper towel.
“Ready to go?” he says.
I nod.
Chapter 17
I’m numb on the ride over to Jamie’s apartment. When our taxi pulls up to the curb in front of Jamie’s building, he’s the first thing I see, standing out on the front steps with Gus. Jamie looks like an avenging angel dressed in a black leather jacket and dark shades.
While Sam pays the fare, I climb out of the taxi and run up the stone steps into Jamie’s waiting arms. Gus brushes up against my leg seeking attention.
“Hi, Gus,” I say, reaching down to pet the dog.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Jamie says, rubbing my back.
I lose what little composure I had and the flood gates open. My heart feels like it’s being ripped into two, and the pain is searing. I can’t speak over the sobs coming out of me.
“Come inside, and tell me what’s going on,” Jamie says, opening the heavy wooden door.
Sam climbs the stone steps. “I guess I’ll wait out here,” he says.
Jamie holds his hand out for Sam to shake. “Nonsense. Come up to the apartment.”
Gus runs inside the building and up the staircase, his nails clicking on the steps. Jamie and I follow behind him, with Sam taking up the rear.
At the top of the stairs, we run into a woman coming out of the other second-floor apartment, a pretty brunette with shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. She’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and jacket. There’s a slouchy purse slung over her shoulder, and she’s holding large, flat parcels.
“Jamie, hi,” she says, as she locks her apartment door. She gives me a cautious, curious smile.
I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and try to act like nothing’s wrong.
“Hi, Molly,” Jamie says. “Going out?”
“Just running to the post office,” she says. “I have some small paintings to mail.”
“Molly, this is Beth Jamison, my brother Shane’s fiancée. Beth, this is Molly Ferguson, my neighbor. She’s a very talented artist.”
Molly’s eyes widen just a bit. “Shane’s fiancée? Oh.” And then her smile brightens as she relaxes a bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth.”
Molly adjusts her grip on her packages and smiles at me once more. “Well, I’d better get going,” she says. “I’ll see you later, Jamie.”
He nods. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Molly heads down the stairs and out the building, and the three of us head to Jamie’s apartment.
“She seems really nice,” I say, watching Jamie’s reaction.
He nods. “She is. We’ve become good friends since I moved into this building.”
There’s a peculiar smile on Jamie’s face that makes me wonder just how good of friends he and Molly have become. And I don’t think I was imagining how she seemed to relax a bit after Jamie introduced me as Shane’s fiancée.
“Help yourself, Sam,” Jamie says once we’re in his apartment. “There’s plenty of food and drink in the kitchen. Make yourself at home.”
To me, he says, “Why don’t we talk in my office?”
I nod, but say nothing as the tears start flowing again. My emotions are all over the map, and I just can’t seem to stop crying.
Once we’re in his office, with the door shut, Jamie sits me down on the sofa, and he sits on the sturdy coffee table facing me. He’s holding both my hands in his, his grip firm and comforting.
“What happened, Beth?”
I dig my phone out of my purse and bring up the images. But of course he can’t see them.
“Beth?”
“Do you know Luciana Morelli?”
“Unfortunately. I never liked her. I was glad when Shane broke up with her. Why?”
“She – at least I assume it was Luciana – sent six images to my phone about an hour ago. They had to have been taken very recently, outside on N. Michigan, on the sidewalk. She and Shane are kissing – making out is probably a more accurate description.”
“What?” Jamie shakes his head. “No. Shane would never do that. There has to be another explanation.”
“But it’s him. I can see his face clearly in the first two images. There’s absolutely no doubt.” I describe each image in excruciating detail, one after the other, and he frowns as he listens.
“Beth, I can’t explain what you’re seeing, but I know my brother. He’d never do this to you. If he wanted her, he’d break things off with you before pursuing her. And to my knowledge, my brother is chomping at the bit to get a wedding band on your finger. He’s not interested in hooking up with another woman, let alone Luciana. Beth, trust me. My brother thinks the sun rises and sets for you.”
“But the images are right here in front of me. I’m staring at them right now, and they tell a very different story.”
Jamie reaches out and takes hold of my phone, pulling it out of my grasp and laying it face down on the coffee table. “Forget what you see, Beth, or what you think you see. Focus instead on what you know. Focus on Shane and who he is as a person. Do you really think he’d do this to you?”
I swallow hard as tears pool in my eyes. I want to say no so badly, but those images… how can I simply discount them? I’d be an idiot to ignore what I see with my own eyes. “But he’s kissing her, Jamie.”
“No,” Jamie says. “There has to be another explanation.” He squeezes my hands. “Do you honestly think he’d do something like this to you?”
“No.” My throat aches so much I can barely speak. “But I can’t reconcile what I feel in my heart with what these images are showing me.”
“I assume you’ve heard of Photoshop,” he says, giving me a look.
I laugh. “Yes, of course. But I don’t think those images were Photoshopped.”
He sighs heavily. “Right now I can’t explain this. But I’m putting my faith in Shane, and I think you should too.”
I lean back in the sofa, my body melting into the cushions. “Jamie, you can’t see these images. His hands are all over her – on her breast, on her butt. He’s devouring her, like he’s starved for her.”
“You’re right, I can’t see the images. But sometimes you have to see with your heart, not with your eyes. Your eyes can play tricks on you, but your heart... your heart will never lie to you.”
I sigh. “You have so much faith in him.”
He nods. “I do. You know, when I was hurt in Afghanistan and shipped back to Walter Reed Hospital for emergency medical treatment, it was Shane who sat at my bedside for weeks, holding my hand, refusing to let me wallow in self-pity, promising me that everything would be all right. I wanted my life to be over. I didn’t see how I could possibly c
ome back from what I’d been through. But my big brother refused to let me go. He held onto me with everything he had, and he never gave up on me – not for a second.”
Just hearing that story again makes my throat tighten. Jamie’s been through so much, faced so much loss and adversity. Not only did he lose his vision, but he lost two of his teammates – his two best friends – in a horrific explosion. And despite all that suffering and loss, he’s one of the most positive people I know. Maybe that’s why I came to him with this. Maybe I thought he could help me see through the images to the truth behind them.
My phone chimes with an incoming call.
“I can guess who that is,” Jamie says.
I look at the screen and my stomach drops. “It’s Shane.” Lia must have accomplished her mission – she showed him the images. I let it ring.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
Feeling sick, I pick up my phone and accept the call. “Hello?”
“I’m on my way,” Shane says, his voice brisk and matter-of-fact. “Lia was just here. She showed me the images.”
“Shane – ”
“The first two are legitimate,” he says. From his breathing, I can tell he’s on the move. “Luciana approached me on the street today while I was out running an errand. The jeweler called to tell me your ring was ready, so I went to pick it up. I wanted to surprise you with it this evening. Since it was a nice day, I decided to walk. Luciana intercepted me on my way back, just a couple of blocks from my office building. Without warning, she grabbed me and kissed me. I pushed her away, told her to get lost, and walked on, alone. The other four images are fakes.”
There’s a lump of dread sitting like a stone in my stomach. I want to believe him. I need to believe him. But those images... a picture is worth a thousand words, right? “Shane.”
“Yes?”
“I’m tired, and I don’t feel well. I just want to be alone for a while. Maybe you shouldn’t come.”
There’s a moment of painful silence. And then I hear a car door open and close. Shane recites Jamie’s address, presumably to a hired driver.
“I’m coming, Beth. I have to see you. One way or another, I’ll prove the last four images are fakes. Can I talk to Jamie?”
For a moment, I wonder how he knows where I am, but then I remember he can trace my phone. “Sure.”
I slip my phone into Jamie’s hand. “Shane wants to talk to you.”
“I’m here, Shane,” Jamie says. A moment later, he says, “She’s holding her own.” Another pause. “Okay. We’ll see you soon.”
Jamie ends the call and hands my phone back to me.
“I’m not ready to see him,” I say, feeling guilty, feeling like a traitor. “I can’t get those pictures out of my mind.”
Jamie sighs. “He said the last four photos are fakes, and I believe him. He’s already sent the images to his digital forensics team for evaluation. They’ll analyze the photos and prove they’re fakes.”
“If you could just see these photos, Jamie...” My voice cracks. “It’s hard to believe they’re not real.”
“You said in the first two photos you can see his face, right?”
“Yes.”
“But the last four images are taken from a different angle, from behind Shane, and you can only see the back of his head.”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little odd? Why would the photographer chance the perspective? If someone wanted evidence of wrong-doing on Shane’s part, don’t you think they’d photograph his face in all the shots? And if someone was trying to fake these images, they wouldn’t show the man’s face, or the ruse wouldn’t work.”
“Yes, but the first two are clearly him, and the rest of the images... it’s the same scene, at the same time. They’re standing in front of a very distinctive silver sports car. This would have to be one elaborate hoax to be faked.”
I’m shaking so badly my teeth are chattering.
“I’ll get you a blanket,” Jamie says, standing.
He steps out of the room, then returns a moment later with a pillow and a soft blanket. “Why don’t you lie down here and rest until Shane arrives. Do you want something to drink?”
I lay the pillow down at the far end of the sofa and kick off my shoes so I can lie down. “Some water, please.”
Jamie leaves the room and returns quickly with a bottle of chilled water, which he sets on a coaster on the coffee table.
Sam pokes his head through the open doorway. “Hey, sweetie, are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I say.
But no one’s fooled. The truth is, I’m not fine. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be fine again.
* * *
I don’t know how much time has passed as I’ve been lying here. My head’s at one end of the sofa, and Jamie’s seated at the other end with my feet in his lap. Even with the blanket covering me, I can’t get warm. I can’t stop shivering.
I’m fading in and out of a twilight sleep when a knock at the apartment door starts my heart racing. I can just barely make out Sam’s voice as he lets Shane in.
Jamie rises to his feet and pats my leg. “Let me talk to him first,” he says. “You rest. I’ll send him in here so you two can talk privately.”
All I can do is nod.
Chapter 18
I hear the low rumble of male voices in the living room, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I think they’re keeping their voices down on purpose.
Before long, there’s a light knock on the door to Jamie’s office.
My heart is pounding, and I’m not sure I’m ready to face him. “Come in,” I say.
I sit up as Shane walks into the room, blinking my eyes at the bright hallway light streaming into the dimly lit room. He closes the door behind him, studies me for a long moment, then comes to sit on the coffee table, right across from me.
“Hey,” he says softly, a sad smile on his face. He leans forward and reaches for my left hand, holding it gently in one of his.
“Hey,” I say.
With his other hand, he brushes back my hair. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Lia forwarded the images to me. I realize this has put you in a difficult position.”
His voice sounds anguished, and that brings fresh tears to my eyes. I brush the tears away with the back of my free hand.
Shane looks as bad as I feel. I’ve only seen him look like this one other time, and that was when I woke up in the ER after being physically assaulted and he was leaning over my hospital bed, tears in his eyes as he studied the damage that had been done to me. He looked wrecked then, just like he does now.
I realize he’s scared, and the knowledge floors me. Shane’s not afraid of anything. He faced Howard Kline and killed him without batting an eye. The fact that he’s scared now actually scares me. He’s afraid Luciana will succeed in doing what she threatened all along – wreck us.
“I know it looks bad,” he says, cradling my hand in both of his, “but you need to hear me out. I was walking back to my office from the jewelry shop where we bought our wedding bands when Luciana approached me on the sidewalk. She grabbed me without warning and kissed me. That was it, I swear. I pushed her away and walked on. I have no idea who’s in the other four images with her, but it’s not me.”
“I don’t know who it is or how she pulled this off,” he says, “but I swear to you, I’ll prove I didn’t do this. I’ve got my imagery analyst team working on it right now. Until we come up with something definitive, all I ask is that you give me the benefit of the doubt and withhold judgment.”
He sounds so reasonable about it, and of course I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt – give him a chance to uncover the truth. But at the same time, I can’t just ignore what I see in those images. What I see breaks my heart – it guts me.
“Beth?”
I realize I’m staring down at my lap, avoiding his gaze. When I can finally bring myself to look at him, I’m stunned
by the stark pain I see in his eyes. He’s hurting as badly as I am. My throat tightens and I feel fresh tears forming.
“I don’t blame you for being upset,” he says. “The photos are pretty damning. I just know it’s not me.”
“I – I don’t know what to think.”
His jaw tightens. “I knew Luciana was vindictive, but I never dreamed she’d stoop this low. She wants to hurt me, and she’s using you to do it.”
He brushes the pad of his thumb back and forth against the back of my hand, and it feels good, soothing. I feel terrible for doubting him, even for one second. The Shane I know would never betray me. But those images... seeing him with his hands on her, kissing her, it’s difficult to ignore the possibility, however slight, that they’re real.
“Lia told me you were sick at the restaurant,” he says. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m still a little light-headed.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
Pain knifes me in the chest, and I shake my head. Our apartment is the last place I want to be right now – there are just too many memories there. I need space. It kills me to say it, but I have to. “I want to stay here tonight.”
Shane does an admirable job of keeping a straight face, but I can tell by the tightening of his jaw and the tension in his eyes that my words have wounded him. I feel ashamed. “I’m so sorry, but I just can’t – ” My voice breaks and I can’t get the words out.
He cups my cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I know this is hurting you. God, I could kill Luciana for putting you through this – for putting us through this.”
Shane runs his fingers through his hair, causing tuffs of it to stand up, and that makes me smile. Some things never change.
“Okay,” he says. “You stay here tonight. I’ll be in the lab at work until they find something. I’ll sleep in my apartment at the office tonight.” His voice hardens. “I’m not going home without you, Beth. I mean that.”
He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I’m going back to the lab. Please, try to eat something. I don’t want you getting sick. I’ll contact you as soon as we find something.”