Katie bit her lip. “Do you know how long that will take?”
“Yes. But I’m willing to bet that whoever is stalking him is a member of that church. She knew the camera on the lost-and-found hallway wasn’t working. She also knew if she left a bag in the bathroom, someone would turn it in. She was probably hanging out watching the whole time. As soon as the bag was turned in, she simply picked it up and slipped out.”
Katie nodded. “That makes sense. But even if we come up with someone who might be after Wade, it’ll take effort to prove it.”
“I know. Start with the staff and volunteers first.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Have Angela talk to some of the people in the youth room. See if she can get a list of names of all the people around the video equipment. We’ll check them all out and see if we pull out any skeletons.”
“Okay.”
“Also, there was a woman this morning who was very flirtatious with Wade. Erin Abbott. I’d be interested to know more about her.”
“I’ll put her on the list. What about the sister-in-law, Martha?” Katie asked with a lowered voice and a glance toward the empty doorway.
Olivia nodded. “I’ve wondered about her, but her background is clean, and this morning she was in the service when the craziness went down.”
“Plus, she’s lived with him all this time, why start stalking him now?”
Olivia shrugged. “You never know about someone. We’ll keep an eye on her and keep looking.”
“Although if the stalker isn’t Martha, why doesn’t his stalker consider her a threat? Seems to me she’d be the first one to get rid of.”
“That’s a good point,” Olivia said, “but there have been no threats against her.”
“Then the stalker knows she’s not a threat and isn’t worried about her being one?”
“Could be.”
“And the friend? Joanna?”
“Same story.”
“So it’s someone who knows Wade well enough to also know that she doesn’t have to worry about Martha and Joanna being competition for his affection.”
“That’s the way it appears.”
Katie snorted. “We all know appearances can be deceiving.” She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Anything on the caller Quinn and Bree were trying to track down?”
“No. Nothing yet.”
“So, who are we looking at as a primary suspect?”
Olivia almost smiled. You could take the girl out of the job, but once a cop, always a cop. “We aren’t looking at anyone. Quinn and Bree are going to go after the caller who calls two or three times during Wade’s show.”
“When are they going to talk to her?”
“As soon as she gets back into town.”
“And until then?”
“We keep our eyes and ears open and Wade and his family safe.”
“How do you propose to do that?” Wade asked from the doorway.
“A number of different ways. But first I need knowledge. Knowledge is power and I think some things have been left . . . unsaid.”
He shot her a wary glance. “What things?”
“The elephant in the room.”
“Which is?”
“Justine.”
[21]
Wade flinched. “What about her?”
Katie nodded to the stairs. “I’m going to check on Amy.”
She left and Olivia sighed. “I read the notes, the background that was done on you when we took this assignment from your father. I know she’s a painful subject for you.”
“Yes. She is.”
“But whoever was in that bathroom with Amy wanted you to know that she knew about Justine.”
He nodded. “It’s not a secret. Her death was in the paper, the gossip column—along with pictures of us taken at various charity events.” Tension threaded through him, tightening the already tight muscles at the base of his neck. “The media hounded me for weeks until something new came along to snag their interest.”
“When you’re a high-profile personality trying to fly under the radar—” Grief flashed in her eyes and Wade knew she was thinking about her friend, Shana. “I remember seeing the news reports,” she said, “but didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to it.”
“Justine committed suicide six months into our relationship.” Saying the words brought a fresh wave of grief. And guilt. How had he missed the signs?
“Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “No. That one little word ‘why’ haunts me, but I’m having to take to heart the advice I give to people. To those who’ve had a loved one commit suicide.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t ask why. Unless they’ve left a detailed note, the only person who knows why is gone. Instead, live your life doing your best to make a difference, to share that there is hope and suicide isn’t the answer. Clinging to God when life crashes around you is what you do, no matter how bad you want out.”
Olivia blinked and her throat tightened. His words were affecting her, making her want to know more about the faith that he clearly had. “Is that what you’re doing? Clinging to God?”
“Yes. And, of course, doing my best to utilize the resources he’s provided.”
“Such as?”
He gave her a faint smile. “You and your agency for one.”
“Ah.” He had a good point. One she’d have to think about. She moved on. “Justine didn’t leave a note?”
“She did. Or rather, I got a text.” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he stared at his hands clasped in his lap. “‘I’m sorry, Wade,’” he quoted, “‘but life is just too much. I can’t keep going on like this. Tell Amy I’m sorry too. I love you both and will miss you.’”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“As soon as I read it, I raced over there and . . . found her. She’d shot herself.”
Olivia frowned. “I didn’t realize you were the one who found her. I’m so sorry.”
“I am too.”
They stayed silent for a short minute, then Olivia tilted her head and looked at him. “That text doesn’t say much.”
“Says a lot, as far as I’m concerned. It says I didn’t know her at all.” He pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons. He passed the device over to her and she read the text. He’d quoted it verbatim.
“You kept the text.”
“I can’t bring myself to delete it.” He took the phone back and stared at it. “I guess I think if I look at it enough times, at some point it will say something different.” He gave a self-deprecating smile and shook his head. “I don’t know. I think it just still shocks me that I can’t text her back. Deleting the text is like saying goodbye for good.”
“I understand. You’ll delete it when you’re ready.”
“And maybe there’s some guilt involved too.” He snorted. “Not maybe. There is guilt.”
“Guilt?”
He nodded. “I never saw it. Never picked up on one sign that she was depressed or suicidal. Sure, she was tired some days and other days she cried over what she had to deal with at work.” He cleared his throat. “But she’d found her stress relievers and I thought they worked for her.”
“I’ll come back to the stressors in her job in a moment. Let me clarify a few things. You dated her for six months.”
He nodded, then shrugged. “Well, we started out as friends. We actually only dated for about four months.” He cleared his throat. “We talked about getting married only because it would benefit us both, not because we were in love.”
Olivia lifted a brow. “Okay. How would the marriage have benefited you?”
Heat rose in his neck. “That didn’t come out right. It wasn’t as coldhearted as I’ve made it sound.” How did he explain without sounding . . . arrogant?
“That question makes you uncomfortable.”
He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know how to word the explanation.”
“Ju
st do your best, I won’t judge.”
Her blue eyes held sympathy. And curiosity. He sighed. “Do you read magazines? Like entertainment ones?”
“Sometimes.”
“I was on the cover of one not too long ago.” He named the popular magazine title and she nodded. “I was in Los Angeles promoting the charity. There were some pretty big names in attendance, celebrities who knew my mother, politicians,” he waved a hand as though dismissing their perceived importance, “but for some reason, the reporter focused in on me. Got a picture and slapped it on the cover of the magazine. There was also a shot of my mother holding me when I was about six months old. The article talked about Lucy Savage’s son hitting it big or something like that. It also talked about my practice, the radio show, the fact that my father had moved us across the country, and how we’d dropped off the Hollywood radar, but wondered if Wade Savage would follow in his mother’s footsteps.” He shrugged. “It was a mess for a while. I had reporters camped out on my lawn. Then it all died down when my life stayed pretty boring.”
“But?”
Again he felt the heat in his neck. “But I had women coming from everywhere, introducing themselves in the grocery store, following me home from work, camping out at the radio station.” He rolled his eyes. “It was ridiculous. But once I met Justine and people put us together as a couple, most of that faded. But neither Justine or I were interested in marriage. She’d come out of an abusive one and planned to stay single the rest of her life. I have a daughter to raise and—” He looked away, gathering his thoughts. “But . . . Justine wanted to get into politics and she needed that picture-perfect family to woo voters. Being a part of my family would carry some weight.”
“So you decided to marry, but you didn’t love her.” Her soft statement pierced him and he couldn’t respond for a moment.
“No, I didn’t love her,” he finally said, “not the way a wife deserves to be loved. I was attracted to her. She was a beautiful woman inside and out, but—” he shrugged—“I think we’d both been too wounded by past relationships to let ourselves love fully and deeply.” He shook his head. “I regret that, although, who knows? In time, we may have learned to do that. Unfortunately, she chose to cut her time short.” A muscle jumped in his jaw and he did his best to relax. “Amy loved her and Justine loved Amy.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Our relationship wasn’t built on romantic love, but we respected one another and thought we could make the marriage work for the benefit of all of us.”
“How did you meet?”
“She came to one of my charity functions. She was a child psychiatrist, specializing in pediatric trauma cases. She worked a lot with the police and the children in foster care.”
Olivia blew out a low breath. “Okay, now I understand what you meant by she’d be upset about what she had to deal with. I’m sure that was very hard on her emotionally.”
“Very.” His brows dipped. “But like I said, she seemed to handle it well. She knew she had to do something to process everything she saw on a daily basis. She was very athletic, worked out, jogged, did some kickboxing—and taught Sunday school to children who weren’t traumatized by life. I could hardly keep up with her. She said all the activity was her stress reliever.”
Olivia nodded. “I do the same thing. It does help for sure.”
“So when she shot herself—” His throat tightened around the words. He cleared it. “When she shot herself, it was a huge shock. To everyone who knew her.”
“She was shot with her own gun?”
“Yes, it came back registered to her.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know she even owned a gun.”
“When was it purchased?”
“The week before she died.” He laced his fingers together and studied them. “The police said she must have been planning it for a while.”
Olivia frowned. “And the autopsy supported the suicide report.” It wasn’t a question. Just more of a statement as she thought through what he was telling her.
His frown deepened. “Of course. Why?”
Olivia stood and paced in front of the mantel. “Why would your stalker bring up Justine? To Amy especially?”
“She said it was a message, remember?”
“Exactly. But what kind of message?”
He blinked. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to process it, but maybe she’s trying to play with my mind? Get to me on a psychological level?”
“Maybe.”
“But?”
“What if Justine’s suicide . . . wasn’t?”
“Wasn’t—” He stared at her. “But if it wasn’t suicide, you’re talking . . .”
“Murder.”
[22]
Olivia could tell the idea that someone murdered Justine was almost too much for him to take in. But she knew that, in a strange way, he found it more palatable than the fact that she would have chosen to take her own life.
Wade kept his head down as he worked on the boat inside the boathouse. Olivia stood well away from the edge of the water, watching him. She knew he was thinking. Analyzing her theory about Justine. Every once in a while she’d walk to the door and step outside. She noticed he never looked up when she came back in. “Wade, you really need to be more aware.”
“Of what?”
“Of someone coming up behind you. I’ve left and come back twice and you never even looked up.”
“That’s because I knew it was you.”
“How?”
“By the way you walk. You have a very distinct soft-sounding step.”
“No I don’t,” she scoffed. At his raised brow, she paused, curious. “I do? Really?”
“Really.” He grinned—not a big grin and not one filled with joy, but at least it was better than the grim face he’d been wearing. Though she could hardly blame him for it.
“Will you tell me about your wife?” The grin faded and she almost regretted the question.
He stopped what he was doing and stared at her. “What do you want to know?”
“What was she like?”
He shrugged. “We met in high school. She was popular, always the life of the party.” He looked up and she saw his mind go back in time. “She was pretty.” He glanced at her. “And she knew it.”
“Ah. One of those.”
“Yeah. But I was a jock and arrogant. We were made for each other. Together we were such a cliché.”
“Clichés happen for a reason.”
“True.” He shook his head. “High school was a blast. We did the whole partying, drinking thing. Some recreational drugs and never got caught, never suffered any consequences. No one died, nothing bad happened. Pamela and I got a marriage license the day after graduation and had a local pastor marry us. Pamela’s parents freaked. I thought my dad would write me out of the will, but we both started college in the fall and I think our parents were actually shocked. Then Pamela got pregnant.” He dropped his head and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “She was furious. Wanted to have an abortion. I told her if she did, we were done.” He cleared his throat. “You have to understand, after she got pregnant, she let me know quite plainly that she didn’t marry me because she loved me, she loved my money and my ability to show her a good time and she relished the status of being a Savage.”
“Oh Wade, I’m so sorry.”
“It hurt. I won’t try to shrug it off and say it was okay. It wasn’t. I was . . . crushed. But I wanted our baby. I convinced her that she’d wind up with nothing if she had an abortion.”
“So she had the baby.”
“Yes.” His hands clenched into fists. “And it wasn’t long after that she was back to partying, drinking—gone all the time. She failed her second semester of college. I rarely saw her. But Amy’s birth changed me. She was just . . . perfect in every way. I loved her from the moment I saw her, and I vowed to be the best dad I could be so she would have an amazing life.”
Olivia’s heart flipped, her attraction for the man growing with
the visual he created. “How did you manage?”
“Dad helped a lot. He was determined I was going to finish college and he hired a sitter for Amy since Pamela couldn’t be counted on to actually take care of her child. It wasn’t too long after Amy’s first birthday that Pamela disappeared completely. Dad tracked her down and found her living with another guy, hooked on drugs. He got her out and got her in a rehab center.”
“Where were her parents during all of this?”
“They’d written her off and moved to Europe to be near their son who’s in the military.”
“What happened when she got out of rehab?”
“She went to see Joanna. The two got drunk. Pamela stole Joanna’s car and drove it off a cliff.”
Olivia let out a slow breath. She’d read his wife had died in a car wreck that had been ruled an accident while driving under the influence. “How awful.”
“Yes, it was a dark time. If I hadn’t had Amy and my dad, I probably wouldn’t have made it. After that, I turned back to my faith, finished my degree, and went on to medical school.” He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Okay, enough of that. Let’s get this boat on the water.”
Haley was up at the house with Amy, and Olivia knew the girl was eager to get on the boat. However, Olivia couldn’t stop the niggling concern inside her. Wade grabbed a case of bottled waters and one of soda and headed down below deck. When he came back up the stairs, Olivia paced to the windows, looked out to see nothing alarming, then back to Wade. “How often do you take the boat out?”
“Just about every weekend when it’s warm enough. Why?”
“You sure like that boat, don’t you?” she asked him.
“Of course. Why the questions?”
“And the water.”
“Yep,” he said, sounding a bit exasperated. He stepped onto the dock and studied her. “Why?”
Always Watching Page 14
