Under any other circumstances, Jake would have taken Clay’s advice and tried to reconnect with Holly. His friend had already proved to him that he only wanted what was best for him. However, Jake would not even consider it. In his mind, Holly’s lack of faith was unforgiveable. She had every reason to be upset; the pictures of him in bed with Allison were incriminating evidence, but she had failed to do what he had done for her, twice: listen to what he had to say. One more thing puzzled him: Holly was supposed to know her way around computers and yet, she had not noticed the simple inconsistencies that Clay easily had. If anything, a young woman like her should have been able to tell whether those pictures were fake or not.

“So much for a computer geek,” he thought to himself. “Maybe it was dark when you saw them. Maybe you didn’t want to give us a chance. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you threw away what we had, Holly.”

Clay left his friend at the bar and went to pick up Jennifer. Jake chose a playlist in haste and waited patiently for him and the redhead. Still, the first person to visit his bar that afternoon was Sheriff Matheson. For some reason, he had a huge, almost silly grin on his face.

“Evening, Sheriff,” Jake said as he cast an interested glance at him. “What are you so happy about?”

“The feds finally cleared the station,” he said, leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Any luck on finding who murdered Jensen?” Jake asked.

“No.” The Sheriff replied. “They said they had no evidence. Look, is everything ok between you and Holly? She called in sick this morning.”

“Ask her,” Jake urged.

“She’s never called in sick,” The Sherriff used an emphatic tone. “I tried, but she wouldn’t say. Thanks, anyway. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Never called in sick, huh? What a shame, baby. You wrecked everything and now, look at us. Up until last night, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I’m going to miss the Holly who was always there for me. I won’t miss the stubborn woman who gave up on us so quickly.”

The sound of his front door being pushed open snapped him out of his thoughts. Clay had done as promised; he had brought Jennifer with him.

“Jennifer Rockwell, Jake Isaacs,” he introduced them. “I’ll let you two to talk. I’ll see you later, pretty boy.”

“Thanks, Clay,” Jake winked at him. “Pleasure,” he said, offering his hand for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” Jennifer’s voice was a little deep for a woman and her face remained stiff, as she shook his hand.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Jake asked.

“A club soda would be nice,” Jennifer replied, maintaining her businesslike tone, as she hopped onto a stool. “Clay said you wanted my professional opinion. May I see the picture?”

“Sure.” He said with a nod. He took the picture out of the envelope in front of him and handed it over to her. “Do you need more light?”

“Not really,” she maintained, turning on a small flashlight. The tiny beam pointed down at the picture. Even though he had a good idea about what she had to say to him, Jake was still somewhat anxious about this.

“Cute little toy,” he commented.

“It’s not a toy,” Jennifer’s monotonous voice discouraged him from making any more smart remarks. “And this is not a real picture. It’s been tampered with. I count four separate sources. I’ll need to run this on my computer, but it will only confirm my suspicions. It’s sloppy; my 3-year old niece could have done a lot better than this.”

“Thanks,” Jake sighed. “What do I owe you?”

“Well, nothing…” she faltered, “yet. Like I said, I need to analyze it.”

“What’s your fee? How long will the whole thing take?” Jake had even more questions.

“Three to four hours. My fee depends on the case.” Jennifer said, putting the picture into her purse. “I can have it ready by ten, but I don’t want to bother you here again. I’m guessing this place is going to be packed. What’s your address?”

“I close at 2am, Jennifer,” this time, it was Jake who assumed a businesslike tone. “Don’t you have to go to work tomorrow?”

“I’m a freelance professional. I make my own schedule. I’d suggest we do this tomorrow morning, but I have a plane to catch. What’s your address?” She insisted.

“Damn it…” He hummed, frustrated by her persistence. “64 Patton Street. It’s at the end of the road. Do you ever smile?”

“I’m always dead-serious when it comes to work, Mr. Isaacs,” she flatly replied; her answer fueling his frustration even further. “Is 2:15 ok with you?”

“It’s fine,” he croaked.

“Okay,” she nodded, hopping off the stool. “Thanks for the soda. I’ll see you tonight.”

Jake couldn’t help but smile to himself. Jennifer did not act at all like the woman who had allegedly threatened her boyfriend that she would cheat with him. On the contrary, she looked more like a cold, unsentimental geek who took real pleasure in her work. Apparently, Clay had been kidding him the entire time.

“She doesn’t talk like the wild girl Clay said she was. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t laugh… She doesn’t even flinch, for crying out loud. If I hadn’t seen her with Tom, I wouldn’t believe she used to date him. I mean, what’s a tall nerd like her doing with a fat biker like him? Women…”