Page 56 of Sutton's Shadow

“No way!” exclaimed Bethany. “You were taking pictures the whole time?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why take the pictures? What good will they do you?” Bethany wondered.

“Proof.”

“I don’t get it. There are so many people here. Surely the cops can figure out what happened just by asking them.”

Sutton scanned the people gathered on the street around the bicyclist. “It’s true that a lot of people witnessed what happened. And it’s fortunate as well. Most crimes don’t have this many witnesses. But unfortunately, eyewitness accounts can be horribly unreliable. Each person might have seen something a little differently than the others. One person could say the car was gunmetal gray, while another might say silver gray. Those details could make a big difference in the perpetrator’s apprehension.”

“But they’re both still gray. What does it matter?”

“It matters if the cops do a search of vehicles of that color. They might only enter silver in the search parameters and get a list of those in the area. But they’ve completely left out the darker gray colored cars. My pictures will be irrefutable proof of the exact make, model, and color of the car. Not to mention the license plate I caught as he sped away.” She smiled, holding out the camera for Bethany to see the zoomed in picture of the plate.

The girl stared at the picture, a furrowed line between her brows. “So, in order to prove that a crime was committed, you need pictures?”

“It certainly helps. Or video. Either would be beneficial to any investigation.” Once again, she cringed as her words hit a little too close to home for her. She knew the photographs she was hiding of the events in Colombia would be beneficial to whatever investigation the authorities were attempting, so why did she still sit on them? She needed to get over her fear and guilt and find a way to release those pictures.

Bethany fell quiet as the distant sound of sirens grew closer. Sutton’s concerns for the young girl increased. Back at the school parking lot, it was clear that something had spooked her. She’d seen that hyperaware, freaked-out look on many faces while working in war zones across the globe. She wondered if more had happened in that foster home she’d been in than Bethany was admitting. Sutton wanted to probe but didn’t feel it was her place. Making a mental note to talk to Wyatt about it, she put her concerns on the back burner while approaching the deputy with her evidence.

Later, Sutton watched as Bethany shared their eventful afternoon with her brother as they waited for their meals to be brought out at Jolene’s. It was only the three of them for a change; the rest of the Nighthawks had been exhausted after spending the past twenty-four hours searching for the missing girl. She could tell Wyatt was equally tired but had pushed his exhaustion aside for his sister.

Bethany, meanwhile, had also pushed aside her feelings. Sutton no longer noted the haunted appearance in her expression. And yet, her enthusiasm seemed a little too bright to Sutton. It was as if she was overcompensating for something.

She knew what that expression looked like since she had been doing it herself since Liam died. Putting on a brave face for others. It made her heart ache to see that same feigned cheerfulness in Bethany. She needed to find time to voice her worries to Wyatt and got just that opportunity when Bethany went to talk to a friend who had just entered the restaurant with her family.

“Sounds like you had a bit of excitement today,” Wyatt remarked before taking a sip of his beer.

“You could say that. Nothing like what we went through in Afghanistan, though.”

Wyatt snorted, nearly spitting his beer across the table. “Yeah, I don’t think there are any insurgents with suicide vests in Lake Haven.”

“Thank God.”

They fell silent while they both watched Bethany laugh with her friend across the room. Sutton needed to voice her concerns but didn’t know where to begin.

“How’s she been doing with the photography stuff?” Wyatt asked.

Sutton couldn’t help the smile, loving the fact that he showed an interest in his sister’s hobby. “She’s doing great. She’s young but has a great eye. I just hope I’m half as good a teacher as she is a student.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ve watched you with her. You’re very patient. And you explain things in a way that she can relate to.”

“She’s open-minded and absorbs the information like a sponge. But there is something I wanted to discuss with you.” She grabbed her napkin and began twisting it between her fingers.

“What is it?” he asked, the furrow in his brow deep in his concern.

“Well... I’ve noticed a few things, and I’m worried.”

“What things?”

“Has she talked to you about her experience in that home?”

His forehead crease deepened. “No, has she talked to you?”

---