The photo proved nothing.Even so, a prickle of unease crept up my spine. "That picture…when did you take it?"
"Ididn't take it. Someone sent it to me."
"Who?"
Franny set down her phone, screen-up, but said nothing in reply.
I made a sound of frustration. "If you don't tell me, I'm just gonna start asking around until somebody blabs. And you know they will."
Looking distinctly disgruntled, Franny said, "Yeah, well…you might want to start with Darleen. She's the biggest blabber on the island."
From somewhere down the hall, Darleen called out, "I heard that!"
Franny called back, "You were meant to hear it! You promised, remember?"
"Hey, it was an accident."
"What, like Hank's party?"
They were still bickering when it suddenly hit me. I spoke over the noise. "Wait a minute…it was your sister, wasn't it?"
Franny's sister worked at the ferry terminal on the mainland. She had this habit of snapping photos of interesting tourists as she went about her day. Over the years, I'd seen plenty of these shots, thanks to Franny, who loved to share them in-personandonline.
I reached out and plucked Franny's phone from the table and brought the screen closer to my face. Silently, I stared at the photo in question.
Griff was definitely interesting – photo-worthy for sure.
Now, I studied him with fresh eyes. Stepping out of the limo, he looked like a million bucks, just like he'd looked on that very first day, when he'd been arguing with the tourist about his bag.
In the shot, he was wearing the same clothes and carrying the same black duffel that had brought us together in the first place.
Even so, he looked like a stranger – polished, powerful, and utterly out of reach. Sure, his clothes were slightly rumpled, but the man in that photo would never need to sleep in a dump.
And he definitely wouldn't need help fromme.
My gaze shifted to Franny, who had neither confirmed nor denied my guess about her sister. For me, this was confirmation enough.
I swallowed hard before asking, "When did she send this to you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters," I said. "Because if you've had this photo for weeks and never mentioned it, well…I just wish you would have."
"It wasn'tweeks," she said, sounding defensive now. "She sent it to me just this morning. She said he was in the paper."
I shook my head. "What paper?"
"The newspaper, what else?"
"They still have newspapers? Seriously?" But then, I waved away the distraction. "Never mind. Forget the paper. Let me get this straight. You're saying you've known about the limo for hours and never thought to tell me?"
She started fiddling with her cards. "Well…Ithoughtabout it."
"And…?"
"I decided to save it for later."
"Later, when?"
