Island, there always seemed to be something that pulled me into the moment she’d captured. My favorite of the lot was a black-and-white that she’d taken on Belmont Pier. There were about a dozen people in the photo, but its subject was unmistakably the bearded man in running clothes sitting on a bench and focusing intently on a running shoe he was holding up in front of himself. It was only after studying it for a moment that I realized it was not just a shoe, but his own prosthetic lower leg.
As we got closer I saw one I didn’t recognize—in the center of a dark rectangle was a bright square of light, in which stood a man facing away from the camera on a balcony, looking out at the city. It took me a few seconds to realize the photograph was taken from deep inside a room, and the dark frame consisted of the walls around a sliding glass door. It took a few more seconds to realize I was the man and the balcony was Julia’s.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“You got my good side,” I said.
“Is it okay? Do you mind me including it?”
I looked her in the eyes. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the photo. Part of me felt flattered to be one of her subjects, to be part of a piece of her art. But I also felt a certain uneasiness. I had no idea where it came from or why I felt it, but the idea of that photo hanging on a stranger’s wall bothered me.
“I like it,” I said. “But do we have to sell that one?”
She pointed at a small, round red sticker on a bottom corner of the frame’s glass surface that I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m way ahead of you. That means this one’s already spoken for.”
“Look at you,” Jen said, approaching us. She had a small paper plate with cheese and grapes in her hand. “She got your good side.”
A few more people had arrived. Julia introduced us to Trev, the owner, and to one of the other artists. We made some small talk, and by then the crowd had begun to grow.
“I should probably start mingling,” Julia said, giving my hand a quick squeeze.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll try not to break anything.”
I watched her greet a small circle of women. They looked like old friends—hugs and smiles all around. Then I noticed Jen watching me.
“What?” I asked.
“I like her,” she said. “And I like you with her.”
“You don’t like me otherwise?”
She didn’t take the bait. “She’s good for you.”
“That she is,” I said. Julia had moved on to a group of two couples and she seemed just as happy to see them as she had the others. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was good for her.
As soon as I had the chance I pulled Jen into a corner to talk about the case. “How’d the autopsy go?” I asked.
“No surprises.” She took a sip of bottled water. Neither of us had opted for the wine. “Blood alcohol was point-one-nine, with more in his stomach.”
“And if he wasn’t a heavy drinker,” I said, “he was probably close to passing out.”
“If he wasn’t already unconscious.”
“GSR on the left hand?”
“Yeah, but inconclusive.”
“So someone could have put the gun in his hand and manipulated it themselves?”
She nodded and eyeballed the picked-over cheese tray. “We’re going for food after, right?”
“That’s the plan. Reservations at James Republic.”
“Should have worn your fancy pants.”
I laughed and stepped away to call the crime lab to check on the preliminary results from the scene. It was nearly eight, but it wasn’t unusual for them to work late processing evidence. The phone was still ringing when I saw Julia waving me over to where she was standing. She was chatting with a young guy, maybe midtwenties, who looked happy to be there but seemed a little out of place in his Dockers and long-sleeved plaid shirt.
“Danny,” Julia said. “This is Terry Wright.”
I slipped my phone in my pocket and reached out and shook his hand. He had a solid grip that made him seem stronger than he looked. He had his shirt cuffs turned up and I noticed a tattoo on his forearm. It was only partially exposed, but I could see what looked like an old aerial bomb over lightning bolts and a wreath of some kind.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise.”
Julia looked at me expectantly, as if she thought I