She rolled forward, clasping my hand. “I believe you.”
“You do?”
“No one could fake the way you looked at Zachary, or how he looked at you. He was different with you.” She squeezed my hand. “You have to make him listen, Megan.”
“He left without me.”
“He was scared and in shock. The person he thought he could trust betrayed him.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she waved my words away. “The truth or not, that’s what it looked like to him. Think about it, Megan. He’s been here for ten years and until now, felt safe. Out of the limelight and away from his past. Then you enter his life—” Her voice trailed off.
“The one thing he needed, the one thing he counted on—his privacy—was suddenly taken away from him and he was told you were responsible. He knows this’ll be all over the news. He’ll hide for a while until he figures out how far this will reach in the media and how adversely it’ll affect his life.” She shuddered. “I hope they don’t know where his house is located.”
I stood up, gasping. “I have to get to him.”
She tugged me down. “Jonathon will drive you once he thinks it’s safe. You can’t be followed, either.”
“What if he won’t listen to me?” I whispered.
“You have to give him some time. Let him think it through. Once he calms down, I’m sure he’ll realize who is actually the one lying.”'
“You didn’t see how he looked at me.”
“I saw how he looked at you before this happened. You need to hang on to that image.”
I shut my eyes, my entire body exhausted.
I was pretty sure that wasn’t the image I would remember.* * *Time passed as I sat in Jonathon’s office. Slowly the crowd dispersed, the town once again quiet. When they realized there were no more pictures to be taken, and no one in the town would even talk to them, the reporters left, although I was sure they’d be back.
I stood in the shadows outside, waiting for Jonathon while he went to pick up my purse at the store. He was not as convinced as Ashley was about my innocence, but he was at least being polite. I tried calling Zachary, but the calls went straight to voice mail. Every time I heard his terse message, I began to cry again, so I didn’t leave him any messages. I doubted he’d listen to them anyway. I needed to see him face to face.
A ball of paper caught my eye and remembering it had been in Zachary’s hand, I bent down, picking it up and unfurling it. My eyes widened at the pictures. Zachary and me on the beach the day before—close up and zoomed in on his scarred face. Another one of us walking in town. Then others, of me with Jared, his arm around me, taken when we were dating. All the pictures were date stamped, but the ones of me with Jared were falsified. They were dated so it looked like they were taken last week when I was in Boston; made to look like we were still dating. To make Zachary believe I was the horrid person Jared said I was.
A figure moved and I tensed when Jared appeared.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“How?” I whimpered.
He laughed, the sound cruel. “Did you forget what I did before I started writing, Megan? I was a researcher for the publishing house. I checked facts, dug up information.” He sneered. “You made this little project so very interesting for me.” He sniggered. “I passed you on the highway last week, and waited for you here. I heard you talking to your lawyer and say where you were staying, so I rented a different car and followed you. Once I was sure where you were heading, I drove in front of you and waited.” His eyes narrowed. “So worth my time, too.”
“Why, Jared?” I asked, my voice shaking with barely concealed hatred. “Why did you do this?” I threw up my hands, shaking the fake pictures. “It’s a book, it’s only a book!”
“A book you wouldn’t give me.”
I shook my head. “I emailed Bill the other night and told him I would accept your offer. You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to destroy someone else’s life!”
He laughed again, the sound low and evil. “Don’t you get it, Megan?”
“I guess not.”
He stepped forward, close enough I could see the bruise forming on his face from Zachary’s fist. “I get what I want. I warned you not to fuck with me. Thanks to your stupid, inane mouth, I get it all. Luckily for me, I know you well enough to know what a lousy liar you are and there was no new dog. Good thing no one else has figured that out yet, and now they never will.” An evil smile curled his thin lips. “Even if this little story dies a fast death, which it probably will, no one will ever believe a word you say again. I get your book and discredit you,”—he smirked—“and, I get it all for free. I don’t have to pay you a dime.”