Influence

Chapter 30

Jasper's house wasn't at all what she'd imagined. It wasn't a McMansion, or any other kind of mansion, for starters. A two-story craftsman, the hundred-year-old home with inlaid wooden cabinets in the dining room and a brick fireplace in the living room was a spacious dwelling for one person. It wasn't extravagant, though. Or pretentious. Jasper kept it clean, but it felt homey. It seemed more like the Jasper she was getting to know than like the Jasper she'd made assumptions about since they'd met.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"Going on four years now. You seem surprised."

"It's not at all like Goldie's place."

"Why would it be? We have different tastes. When I bought this place, it needed major TLC. I spent three years renovating it. I still need to rip up the carpet in the spare bedroom. And the powder room needs new tiling. I wanted to keep the original, but the previous owners trashed it and it's not worth salvaging. My goal is to find antique tiles to replace them, but that's easier said than done. Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You are a man of many surprises, Jasper DeAngelis."

He grabbed her hand and led her up a staircase. "You're not going to like the surprise I'm about to show you. It's a risk, us being here, so let's make it quick."

He'd fought against them coming here, an obvious risk that she wasn't oblivious to. Even though they'd parked around the block and cut through the neighbor's yard directly behind Jasper's so that no one observing the house from the street would see they were there, what they were doing was still dangerous. The thrill of that danger coursed through her, tingling her skin in a not unpleasant way. She'd had more of her fair share of risk. Tam had tried so hard to adhere to a life where danger was something that happened far away and to other people, but it kept coming for her as though it was a paparazzi hoping to get close enough to take a photo.

"I have to see for myself," she insisted.

"I could have told you."

"You said you didn't even look through all of the box's contents."

He led her into a room that she took to be the spare bedroom he'd referred to earlier. Its worn beige carpet had been torn up in one corner. "All I had to see were the first couple of photos and printouts and the purpose of that Goldie Girl's care package was pretty evident."

He pulled out the bottom drawer of a wooden dresser and took out what appeared to be a shoebox that a crafter had gotten a hold of.

"Damn glitter gets everywhere." He placed the box on the bed and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Go ahead, open it."

She was here because she'd insisted on coming, but now, faced with whatever was in that box, she hesitated, finally throwing off the lid like she expected a snake to be coiled inside. The snake in this case was only paper, pictures and text printed out on card stock.

She picked up the first image. In it, the back of a building lit up against a dark sky. Goldie's building. That's all it was unless you examined the upper floors. There, a figure stood peering over a balcony. She squinted at it, her body tingling with the certainty that she herself was that figure. She placed that picture to the side and moved on to the next. There she was, again the focus of the photographer, only now, she was down at ground level hovering over the crumpled body of Goldie Finch. Her face, captured in profile, appeared unmoving, expressionless.

Her hand trembled as she placed that image side by side with the first on top of the bed. "What does she imagine she's trying to prove?"

Jasper stared at them alongside her. "That you pushed her, then rushed down to her body, making a show to the doorman that you were distraught, but when you were alone with the body..."