“Is that a promise? Another promise? Is it more reliable than the first promise?”
Ouch.“I love you and I’m trying.”
“So am I,cara,” Gianluca shot back, wounded, his dark eyebrows sloping miserably down. “Enough, I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“I don’t, either. Just know that I love you and I’ll be home as soon as I absolutely can.”
“I love you, too. Goodbye.” Gianluca ended the call, and Julia hung up looking at her home screen, which was a beautiful picture of the three of them smiling in the vineyard. Tears came to her eyes. Her family was hurting on two different continents, and she prayed they would all get through this somehow.
She set the phone and purse on the passenger seat, then noticed a white piece of notepaper on the cushion. She picked it up and read its handwritten scrawl, stunned:
I DID NOT KILL KAY
SAMUEL
31
Julia started the ignition, instinctively wanting to head back to the motel, for safety. Samuel’s note gave her the creeps, making her suspect him more. Its very presence meant that he had been stalking her just like he stalked Kay. Chalk up another thing that her supposed psychic powers hadn’t warned her about.
Julia called Bennie as she drove from the parking lot, but the lawyer didn’t answer, so Julia left her a message about the note, then called Alex, who did answer. She filled him in as she hit the main road.
“Are you sure it’s from him?” Alex asked, sounding surprised.
“I’ll send you a picture.” Julia snapped a photo and texted it to him when she stopped at a light.
“Got the pic.” Alex groaned. “Oh no, that’s his handwriting.”
“How does he know we suspect him of killing Kay? Even if he noticed the photos were out of place when he went back, how would he know it was us? Unless somebody told him.”
“He could’ve listened to the message I left him. He could’veassumed I’d go see him. He’d know he left the photos out, like you say, and it’s not illogical to suspect him.”
“But you don’t, still?”
“No. He’s trying to tell you he’s innocent.”
“An innocent stalker?” Julia wasn’t buying. “What if Glushenko told him? Or another cop, or even Kowalski?”
“More likely, people gossip. You’re not the only person who suspects him. I’m on my way back to the office and I’m getting texts from everybody, talking about Courtney’s arrest and who killed Kay.”
“Or maybe he was watching the cabin. Is that possible?” Julia passed the sign for the city limits, relieved to be getting out of town.
“No, there would be no reason to.”
“Could he have cameras?”
“No.”
Julia let it go. “I called Bennie and left her a message about the note.”
“Good, are you going to tell Glushenko or Kowalski?”
“I’ll ask Bennie. The communications should go through her from now on.”
“Good point. Stay in touch. Will you text me if you hear anything from Courtney?”
Julia could hear the wistfulness in his voice. “Absolutely.”
Julia pulled into the motel lot and spotted Paul in a blue oxford shirt with tan Dockers, getting out of a white Honda. Paul Prescott had been her late husband Mike’s best friend, and seeing Paul brought back Mike so acutely that it hurt. Both men were tall and athletic, having played intramural basketball at Notre Dame, but Mike had been lean and lanky, where Paul had a heavier frame with bigger bones.