White Space Season 1

hand hovered next to the flash drive, ready to yank it out the moment the guard drew closer, but she wanted to see what was on the screen. Had to see what the hell Roger was filming in secret.
    Roger’s face appeared in the video, “As I said in the last video, here’s the proof.”
    Proof? Of what?
    Roger reached down to turn one of the bodies over, the guard now 10 yards away and getting closer.
    What is he trying to show?
    The Paladin guard was now just a few seconds away.
    The video footage bounced and shook as Roger fumbled with the camera and started to bring it back up to reveal whatever it was he was trying to show.
    “Mrs. Heller?” the guard said, now just on the other side of the table and about to walk around to her side.
    Liz yanked the flash drive from the computer and palmed it, clicking the browser window to restore as the guard rounded the table.
    “Yes?” Liz said, smiling, her heart making a new home in her throat.
    The guard, a thin and serious looking young man with cold blue eyes, looked down at the computer and then at her. “Ma’am, I need you to come with me.”
    Liz tried to bury her rising panic, telling herself that everything was okay. There was no way Paladin knew she had a flash drive, much less what was on it. But she’d never been very good at lying to herself.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “Please, come outside. There’s something you need to see.”
    Her fear suddenly switched from being busted with the flash drive to something having happened to Alex or Aubrey. A knot formed in her throat at the thought of more tragedy.
    She stood, grabbed her purse, and as the guard led the way, slipped the flash drive into her front pants pocket. As they approached the library exit, Liz could feel the eyes on her. Her anonymity was gone, taken by the guard at her side. There was no way she could return to the library today, or maybe even tomorrow, without attracting unwanted scrutiny.
    As they reached the doorway, Liz saw Nancy glaring from her station, as if she’d somehow defended the library’s sanctity against the wife of a murderer. Liz swallowed as they passed through the doors and went out into the parking lot, where she saw why the guard asked her to follow him.
    The front window of her blue Honda Odyssey had been spray-painted with red lettering: “ MURDERER!!” it said.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Jon Conway

    Thursday afternoon…

    There were parts of Hamilton Island, and Washington State, that were as beautiful as anything else on the planet, and Jon had definitely spanned more than his share of the globe, but most times, the weather was cold and windy. Though the Northwest had a reputation for constant rain, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Mostly, it just seemed as if it was always about to rain . Hamilton Island seemed to be in a perpetual state of gray gloom.
    During his time away from the island, Jon had been spoiled by the clear blue skies and crisp, dry yearlong weather of California.
    Occasionally, the sun would sit in the sky just right, showing the nonbelievers just how gorgeous the island could be, with glistening forests of Hemlocks, Spruces, Maples, Firs, Cedars, and every other tree that made the area look like a Christmas card. As much as Jon hated the weather, and his family, the island still held a nostalgic beauty of a slice of his youth when he was still happy.
    At least it’s not raining now, he thought to himself as they walked the streets of Vivian’s neighborhood.
    Jon was walking with Cassidy and her neighbor, Mrs. Lindley, Vivian’s best friend and fellow soldier in the Infantry of the Slightly Insane. She was batty as Bruce Wayne’s basement, but unlike Vivian, Mrs. Lindley didn’t pour her crazy from a bottle. She made it all upstairs in the wacky whatever that seemed to hold court in her head.
    Vivian was staying home in case Emma returned, or someone came with news of finding the girl, which was just as well so far as Jon was concerned. He’d never much liked the woman, and she sure as hell hated him and his family, with a venom unlike any he’d ever encountered.
    “I really like the headband she’s wearing in this picture,” Mrs. Lindley said, gesturing toward the photo of Emma. “Makes her look like Punky Brewster with all the colors. Do you remember Punky Brewster ?” she asked Cassidy.
    Cassidy said no. She also didn’t point out that the poster was black and white, or even turn to face Mrs. Lindley as she stapled the