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“It means he grew a conscience and decided to out his family.”
I’m not so sure, but I also don’t have an argument for how that’s not the case.
I huff a laugh. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. “Maybe.”
“And maybe…the report you told us he found, the original one, is what he was fighting to protect on Monday.”
I’m not following. “How so?”
“When things went to hell. When Ruby called him away to tell him what she thought was a bombshell, that you weren’t who you said you were, he already had the report. And everything he did after that was to protect it. Including betraying you.”
“No, I…” No. That can’t be right.
“You did say he was ready to hear what was in the article, right?”
“Yeah.” But only because he was trying to coax it out of me.
“And then didn’t seem shocked by some of the things you told him.”
She’s right.
But something about that doesn’t add up. “But that can’t hold water because I’m certain he spilled what he knew to them.” It doesn’t make sense that he was trying to protect the story because he also had a hand in it not running in the AJC.
She thinks about it a moment. “Maybe he didn’t, though.”
How so? “Meaghan retracted her story.”
“Maybe he threw the wreck out as a possible reason you were snooping around. Or maybe Ruby and Magnolia did. And to play it safe, they scared her into sending that just in case.”
I don’t know…
“That’s pretty far-fetched.”
She continues anyway. “Or maybe Jake didn’t want the story to run either because he knew what that would mean for you. He heard his mom threaten you.”
I scoff. “I doubt it.” I seriously doubt he thought of anyone but himself.
“So, he could have gotten in touch with Meaghan and asked her to retract it. He knew what it could mean for her too, and she’s been through enough.” A long pause. “Or maybe not. It just seems strange that you’re not a target now, and he’s still going through with outing his family so Meaghan can have justice. You’re just not in the middle of this anymore.”
Something warms inside me at the thought.
But I swat it away. I’ll never know, though, will I? Because when he came by that day, I didn’t let him in.
Maybe that’s what he was going to say. He did it to protect the story.
To protect me.
And now, he’s making it right.
The story cuts to another, and I perk when I recognize the house. I raise the glass to my nose and wave it around as I inhale the spicy aroma and idly cross my legs. “Oh my God, that’s the Mitchell house.”
The banner at the bottom of the screen now says, Arrests at the Mitchell Home.
Daphne and I gasp in tandem when officers pull Magnolia and Ruby through the front door. Magnolia’s French twist has toppled over, loose strings of silver hair dusting her cheeks. One gets stuck in her eyelashes.
I can’t help but smile a satisfied smile.
“Get that camera out of my face,” she says, visibly unraveling.
