Page 95 of On a Fault Line

“Let’s just hope that Tanner gets roughed up enough during the little brawl and has to take a trip to the hospital—the sooner, the better,” Nic says. “Then maybe trying to figure out what we think spooked Penny at the photoshoot will be unnecessary.”

“We just need to be patient,” Graham interjects, “and be on guard for the signal.”

Moving over to the tables lining the wall, Nic opens a sealed orange envelope and pulls out a series of photos. “I think it would be negligent to ignore what happened at the waterfront.”

Clearing my throat, I sift through the images. “I agree.”

Graham gives me a look. “You seem uptight.”

I shrug. “I am. I hated seeing Penny the way I found her. And between that and how I felt at the cafe the last two visits, I can’t shake this feeling clawing at my back. Tanner has phone privileges once a month and yet chose to call her to what—torment her further? Why? Why would he waste his time on that?”

My anxiety could very well just be guilt.

But there’ve been few times in my life where that feeling has occurred where it hasn’t been monumental.

I pass a few of the photos down the line so the brothers can also take a look.

Nic points to one in particular. “Here’s one that was captured the day you were at the cafe the first time. I was able to get surveillance footage from an hour prior to your arrival as well. It was grainy at best and nothing seemed unusual.” He passes me another stack of images. “Here are ones that were taken from the security footage at the waterfront.”

Graham leans over. “Fuck, I feel like donating a few million to the city to upgrade their damn cameras. How are they supposed to arrest any criminals doing damage to the waterfront when the quality is so bad?”

“Here, these are clearer,” Nic says. “But, yeah, I agree.”

I scan through the dozens of images, hoping to see something—anything.

A few photos have a decent view of bystanders from the photoshoot that were gathered watching Penny work. My eyes move along every face, searching for what—I do not know.

Perhaps something will stand out. Maybe I’ll look into the eyes and find a clue.

If Penny’s reaction to someone in the crowd sent her spiraling a few steps back on her progress, then I can’t even fathom to think what kind of damage actually being in the same room as Mark Tanner would do.

It’s one thing seeing him behind bars, thinking she is safe.

It’s a whole other thing watching him stride into court, just looking for some loophole.

And I don’t trust the United States justice system to deliver to Mark Tanner what he truly deserves.

* * *

When I arrive at the building where Penny was meeting with Margo, I am shocked to find her in the lobby with her mother, enjoying a fancy pink drink with the little balls at the bottom.

It looks like she’s drinking watered-down body wash.

“Hey, Collins,” Donna says, standing up.

She gives me a hug, and it’s her warm greeting that coats my insides with a sense of belonging.

“Hi, ma’am.”

She glares at me but says nothing.

I shrug. “Old habits die hard.”

“Well, I will accept that over Mrs. Hoffman.”

“Progress.”

“I was in the city doing some shopping and decided to see what Penny was doing. I was only a block away. Did you know that this building has the cutest little tea shop?”

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