“How many of those are around?” I asked.
“Depends. Was it a SV6 VE or the SS?”
I allowed my shoulders to droop. “Did I mention that it’s green?”
Danny threw me a look. “How do you not know this?”
“I’m sorry I’m not a car buff like you! But in my defense do you know the difference between a Canon full frame and a Nikon cropped sensor? Huh?”
“Well no, but cars are around you all the time. Look! There’re hundreds of them right here in front of you. How many cameras do you see?”
“Three. That man over there has a Canon EOS 6D slung over his shoulder with a 430 EXIII Speedlight on-camera flash. The guy in the crowd gawking at the accident was using a Nikon Z6, and that woman is pointing a Nikon D5 at us.” Whenever I needed extra money, I worked at The Camera Stop. I knew my cameras.
Danny huffed.
“What did you just say?” Lizzie asked, spinning on her heel.
“Which bit? The 6D the Z6 or the D5?”
“The woman pointing one of them our way, bit.”
My head shot around to where the woman was standing as my thoughts fell into sync with Lizzie’s.
“Was she taking our photo?” Lizzie asked, a hitch in her voice.
“I don’t know. It looked like she was.”
“Where is she now?” Danny asked, his head swiveling from side to side searching.
“She was over there,” I explained, pointing to the spot between a van and a Mini.
“Surely she wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot of us in this light?” Andrew added, as we all sprinted in the direction she was seen.
“It wouldn’t be great quality but there’s enough light for her to have got us. Her camera was pretty impressive.”
Danny got to the spot first, but of course the woman was gone.
“What did she look like?” he asked.
“She was wearing a hoodie with the hood up.”
“Then how do you know it was a woman?”
“She paired it with denim shorts and if a man owned those legs, I’m quitting being a woman.”
“Over there!” shouted Lizzie.
We didn’t have to be told twice. Instead we jostled for first place and ran between the cars to where the woman was heading. She must have sensed she was being followed as she looked over her shoulder before upping the pace.
Luckily, I’d worn my sneakers as heels would have slowed me down. I had no idea if this was the same woman who drove the wagon or not, but if she’d been an innocent bystander and had accidentally taken our photo she never would have run. Running made her guilty of being up to no good in my books.
Lizzie was the first one to drop off. Fair enough, her body was still recovering from her own trauma. Andrew went next, but he had a little bit of age working against him. That left Danny, Harper and I. Only when Danny got tangled in Harper’s lead, he fell like a tonne of bricks, tripping Harper in the process. I stopped to check they were okay, but Danny grabbed the lead and yelled at me to keep running.
The woman now had a good fifty meters on me, and I started to doubt my ability to catch her. I had a clear view of her though as she headed towards the green wagon parked on the side of the road, beeping the doors unlocked as she raced towards it.
I slowed my pace as I knew I had no chance of reaching her before she started the engine and roared away.
But one thing I did now know for sure was the driver of that vehicle was indeed following one of us. And it was a woman.
I doubled at the waist and sucked in some much-needed oxygen, memories of Doctor Jensen telling me to take things easy dancing in the forefront of my mind. I made a vow to my unborn child I would take it easy from now on and then made my way back to the others.
“Did you get her?” Danny asked, handing Harper’s lead back to me.
“No.” I brought them up to date with what she was driving though.
“Why do you think she was taking pictures of us?” Lizzie asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but the other day when we were at Carol’s, I was positive someone was in the bushes taking the photos there too.”
Lizzie shivered and hugged herself. Andrew sensed her distress and pulled her in close. She smiled gratefully as she accepted his gesture.
“We should go home,” I said, feeling guilty. “We did what we came here to do.”
“Do you want to see Matt first?” Danny asked, as we headed back the way we’d came.
“Yes please. If you don’t all mind waiting for a bit?” I directed my question to Lizzie.
“Of course,” she replied.
To be honest I wasn’t really looking where I was going. I was walking on autopilot back towards Matt, my mind on the woman and the car. She was driving me nuts, wanting to know who she was and what she was doing. And why. Let’s not forget why.
I sighed as I stepped out between the cars and straight into a man who was hurrying along also not looking where he was going. We collided with such a force I was knocked backwards, tumbling into Danny.
“Molly?” a familiar voice asked. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” The voice belonged to Tom, the barista from Café by the River, and he looked four shades of frazzled. His hair was messed, his shorts were dirty and his pupils were dilated.
He held out his hand to steady me and I gratefully accepted his offer, smoothing my skirt back into place. It had kind of flipped up a little higher than was decent for a pregnant woman.
“Oh hi! You were the last person I expected to see tonight.”
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his complexion changing from white to red with two quick breaths.
“Just seeing how Matt is. What about you? Were you in the accident? Oh my God, are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes, I’m fine and no I wasn’t in the accident. I was here at night racing with some mates when we heard the accident. You weren’t in it, were you?” he asked, looking around our group. “You all look kind of shocked.”
“Hey Tom,” they all sang in unison.
“We’re fine. There was just someone we were hoping to chat to but she left before we could catch her.”
He nodded knowledgeably. He still held my hand, his fingers hot and his palm clammy. Not that I was criticizing. I was sure mine didn’t feel all that great after the marathon I’d just run.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he asked. “How did you go finding out information about those photos?”
“Ummm, that’s who we were chasing.” I hurriedly explained the woman in the green car. It seemed Tom was as caught up in our escapade as we were, as by the time I’d finished, his eyes were gleaming. And he still held my hand.
“So, you think she’s the woman in the photos?” he asked.
“Possibly. We think she’s a fan of Matt’s and she’s fangirling him. I was going to ask her to leave him alone. He’s taken.”
“Molly! What are you doing here?” I startled as the man himself walked up beside us, his voice loud and booming.
I squealed and hurriedly pulled my hand from Tom’s, guilt swamping me for the third time in a short space of time.
“Hey!” I trilled. “I just ran into Tom.”