Jo
It’s a valid question. Marquette might be the biggest city in the Upper Peninsula, but it’s still basically in the middle of nowhere. I’ve got my hands clasped in my lap, and my fingers are starting to grow numb, so I need to answer quickly. Truthfully, but which truth?
“Okay, so first.” Wait, I’ve decided I owe this stranger more than one truth? I’ve seen his photos online, so I shouldn’t be quite this taken in by his direct eyes or the tilt of his head or the size of his hand curved around the koozie. “I’m up here on another project, for the archives.” I close my eyes and pretend I’m just sorting through the exact specifications of my NDA. “I’m the one who brought them Davis’s name in the first place, so it’s my fault he’s going on trial for a bunch of murders he didn’t commit.”
His frown’s back, and Lord help me, I want to reach out and smooth down that line on his forehead. “Okay, but even in your version, he’s killed two people.”
My version, huh? Nice of him to humor me. “That’s seven he didn’t. They only know who he is because of me, and I emailed them after they closed out the contract and tried to tell them they needed to do more digging, but then …”
He knows the then. His mom knows the then. Millions of people around the world know the then.
Kara and Tess—well, okay, probably the legal team backing them—took the episodes down, so right now there’s only a message about how they don’t want to unduly influence the legal process, but there are still ways to listen. Everyone knows what they concluded, and despite the forums and encouragement to investigate further, it also seems like everyone agrees with them. Nobody’s going to bat for Stanley Trevor Davis.
“Okay, but.” Whittaker checks his watch again, and this time he shifts his chair instead of just reaching for the blank book that seems to track the Grillennium Falcon’s temperature.
When he shifts the chair, it’s to turn it more to face me.
“When they put him on trial it’s all separate charges, right?” He’s so damn earnest. “And he’s got a lawyer, so the lawyer will find the same stuff you did, and they’ll figure it out.”
I’m not so sure Davis’s lawyer is smart enough, and I don’t want Whittaker to get to the point where he suggests I should contact said lawyer.
Seriously, his gaze is intense. His eyes are cool and light blue, but they feel hot on my face. I can’t be this transparent. And I’m not, am I?
Whittaker pulls my card out of his book and considers it like it has more than my contact information and two-word job description. He doesn’t seem like he was all that interested in the show, though, so he probably doesn’t know anything only slightly related. I’m safe.
Wait, his mom was really into the show. Maybe I’m not safe.
Whittaker licks his lips and looks back up at me. “Is your research the only thing they took?”
Shit. My fingers might be numb, but my eyes tell me they’re still all tightly laced together. “No, that was me.” Great. How many of the details does he have? Tess stole her college roommate’s husband, sure, but does he know Jake only stayed with me as long as he did so I’d hand over all the juicy details? Or that Jake didn’t stop having sex with me just because he was screwing Tess every chance he got?
“So …” He strokes his goatee, and seriously, I need to stop looking at his hands. Does he work out, or is that just from the kitchen? “You’re trying to disprove this whole thing that made them famous, that you did the initial research for, when actually it’s really personal and maybe you just want to topple it to get back at Tess?”
I mean, I wouldn’t mind Jake taking a fall, either. He was in on it, and yeah, I hate myself for making excuses for them and letting them both play me, okay? “It’s true about Davis, though,” I insist, and damn it, I’m a petulant child. “Nobody’s going to believe me, but it’s true.”
“Well, so.” Whitaker shifts again, turning even more in my direction, but maybe that’s just so he can nod at my backpack. He runs a hand over his hair, which is pulled back in a sleek ponytail. “You’ve got evidence, right? You said surveillance cameras?”
Okay, but he already pointed out the counterargument. “I’ve got Akira on camera after Julie disappeared, and I’ve got a whole list of cameras I’ve searched for Julie, but just because I haven’t found her doesn’t mean she wasn’t out there.”
He whistles softly, eyes drifting as he thinks something through. “It came out, what, late 2023? How long have you been chasing this?”
I cross my arms before I can think that the only thing I have left to do is pout and I’m Shirley Temple in a snit. “It’s been almost three years.” My contract and my marriage were closed out within a couple months of each other.
That makes him double blink. “You’ve been working on Davis’s defense for three years?”
“First, it’s not full time.” What’s with me thinking he deserves more than one thing in every response? “I’ve had other jobs, and I had to move, and I’ve just been …” God, I’ve been lonely, okay? Moving back home means I moved away from the friends I’d gathered, except they’d been our friends, and now according to her Instagram, Tess inherited them.
Whittaker waits without moving, and that just pisses me off. There’s a fine line between attentive and frozen, and from there it’s only a short trip to pity.
“It should bother me,” I snap. “It should bother everyone! They’ve got him convicted already, but it’s not fair! It’s not justice! They’re getting all this praise, and …”
There’s the pity. He thinks I’m making this up because I’m envious of all the attention—and money, can’t forget the money—Kara and Tess are getting. Look, it’s not exactly a walk in the park when your former best friend’s engagement and wedding and pregnancy announcements are so ubiquitous that you’ve seen all of them despite actively trying not to, and Jake told me he didn’t want any kids with me, okay? Yes, fine, that’s all personal, but that’s not the point.
“Whoa, hey,” Whittaker protests when I get up and grab my backpack. “You haven’t told me nearly enough to get me to believe you.”
Right, so I’ll just—
He starts to stand and holds out an arm to block my exit. “That backpack looks really heavy,” he reasons, ducking his head to try to get me to meet his eyes. “You’ve got more than a single sheet of paper in there.”
I do, thanks, but I don’t have enough Kleenex to take care of everything I’m feeling right now, so once again: I’ll just—
“Well, hello!” a woman’s voice announces, dripping with syrup and clearly too loud to be ignored. “Jamie, who’s your girlfriend?”
Chapter Four – coming October 4
One thought on “Where There’s Smoke – Chapter Three”