“I’ll drop it for now.” She pulled her phone from her bag and began typing quickly. “When we get back to the station, can you start combing through the raw scene video? I’m working on my script now, and I think I’ll reach out to the county jail about the tox screen. Rodriguez was transferred four days ago, so I think it’s weird it’s taking so long.”
“Sure, I’ll set up in editing suite three, and we can record your voiceover in there too.” Tilly’s grip on the steering wheel relaxed a bit as they settled back into their seat. Jamie nodded and looked out the window.
“Do you and Erin Calhoun have, like, a history?”
Tilly sighed, and Jamie knew she shouldn’t be pushing it. “You know what, never mind.”
Jamie looked out the window as the buildings passed by in a blur. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for how sterile Tilly had acted after the presser.Looking back down at her phone, Jamie typed a quick email and hit send before she could think twice about it.
* * *
Jamie led Olivia Turner through the newsroom with a steady, reassuring voice, guiding her toward one of the small glass-walled conference rooms they reserved for interviews like this. Someone from production had already dimmed the overhead lights and brought in a couple of bottles of water. A box of tissues sat waiting on the table.
“Thanks again for coming in,” she said, offering Olivia a gentle smile. “I know this isn’t easy.”
Olivia nodded. She looked tired but put together, her dark brown curls tucked into a low bun. “It’s not,” she admitted. “But I want people to remember Josh for who he really was. Not just how it ended.”
Jamie gave her a moment, then opened her notebook. “Can you tell me about him? What was he like?”
A small smile ghosted across Olivia’s face. “Josh was relentless. In the best way. Always pushing himself. He was finishing his master’s in architecture. Had an internship lined up with a firm in New York.”
Jamie’s pen paused. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“He loved buildings,” Olivia continued, her voice steadying. “Not just the big flashy ones, but the ones with stories. We used to walk around Beacon Hill when we were kids, and he’d make up these ridiculous histories for the old houses. Like one was a pirate’s hideout or had a secret tunnel to the Charles.”
Jamie smiled, visualizing it. “Sounds like he had a good imagination.”
“He did.” Olivia looked down at her hands. “He wasn’t someone who picked fights. If anything, he avoided conflict. That’s why it’s so hard to understand what happened.”
Jamie’s expression softened. “The police haven’t released many details yet, but I know they’re looking into all angles.”
Olivia gave a quiet nod. “I just want people to know the truth. To not just assume he was some random target or part of something shady. He was kind.That’s who he was.”
Jamie reached across the table and touched Olivia’s hand briefly. “Thank you for sharing all of that. I promise we’ll do our best to get his story right.”
A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. Jamie turned to see the station secretary peeking in.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, eyes flicking toward Olivia and then back to Jamie. “There’s someone here to see you. She said she’s with BPD?”
Jamie blinked. “She—okay. Thanks.” She turned her attention back to the grieving woman in front of her. “I don’t want to cut this short if you have more that you want to share.”
Olivia shook her head and closed her eyes. With a deep exhale, she responded, “No, I just wanted you to know who Josh was.”
Jamie nodded, then looked back to the secretary who was still standing in the doorway. “Would you please escort Miss Turner out?”
Jamie stepped into the hallway, her head still buzzing from Olivia’s words. She barely had time to process before she spotted Erin Calhoun standing just inside the station’s glass doors, a visitor badge clipped awkwardly to her belt.
Jamie had only sent the email on a whim, a half-apology, half-Hail Mary. She didn’t expect a reply, and she definitely didn’t expect Erin to be standing inside the WCVB building at 11:30 a.m., hands tucked into the pockets of her black coat like she hadn’t just blindsided Jamie’s whole morning.
“You free for ten?” Erin asked, not quite smiling.
Jamie blinked, hesitating with her bag still slung over one shoulder. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, yeah.”
Erin nodded toward the windows. “There’s a spot a block up. Decent coffee.”
They walked in silence at first, the city humming around them. Jamie glanced sideways more than once, trying to read the sharp, quiet woman next to her. Erin didn’t make it easy.
“I wasn’t sure you’d answer my email,” Jamie said finally, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve. “Tilly was a lot.”
