Page 108 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

“Eight, actually.”

“So full of energy and mischief,” Jillian added with a chuckle. “But you’ve always had a kind heart.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Jillian waved him her way. “Come on over here, honey. Let’s get you what you’re looking for.”

Nate took a seat where Jillian directed him.

She set the file on the table with two hands. “Unfortunately, I don’t have pictures separated into holidays or specific years. They’ve been catalogued by the decades. You’ll have to look through this folder here.” Jillian tapped it with one of her knuckle-swollen fingers. “This is from 1990 to 2000.”

“This is great. Thank you.”

Jillian sat back in her seat. “Now, you let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.” He got to work, searching through the pictures, chuckling when he found one of him, Brad, and Molly smiling with chocolate ice cream around their mouths while they sat at the diner. He flipped through more, pausing when he found a shot of himself and Elizabeth at the Fall Festival. What were they, fifteen or sixteen here? Long before they’d headed off to college and everything changed. He set the picture down, realizing it didn’t sting anymore. The shame of not being able to make their marriage work was gone. Elizabeth was happy, living her life, and he was doing the same.

Moving on, he flipped through Christmas photos and the annual elementary school Thanksgiving feasts, until he found several pictures with a red, white, and blue theme. He spotted the one of Gwen on the float and another of his mom with a couple of the Sanderson women. There were others of the marching bands and people carrying balloons and ice cream cones as they moved along the sidewalks, but nothing else that gave him a definitive date. He kept searching through the stacks, hoping for something else, eventually looking up an hour later as he held the last photograph in his hand. No dice. “Jillian, you wouldn’t happen to know if all of these Fourth of July pictures are from the same year, would you?”

She stood and walked over, studying the shots he’d kept to the side and laid out in a row. “It certainly seems like it, but I can’t say for sure.”

He sighed and scrubbed at his face, shaking off his frustration.

“You said you’re looking for information about the summer of ’95?”

He nodded. “The Fourth of July, to be exact.”

“What about the public access channel? You know they record every big event in town.”

He stood as hope bloomed again. “Do you think they still have the footage?”

“I’m quite positive. I’ve seen several of the tapes myself.”

“Where would I find it?”

“In our archives in the back room.”

He glanced toward the door he assumed held the item he was looking for. “Is it something I can take with me and bring back to you?”

Jillian hesitated. “I’m not really supposed to let our video documents leave, but you are the sheriff.”

“I’ll take good care of it. I can have it back to you in twenty-four hours—forty-eight at the latest.”

“All right.” Jillian walked back to the room, unlocked it, and disappeared inside. Moments later, she came back with the tape, carrying it between both of her crippled hands. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

He read “Independence Day ’95” on the old VHS label, ready to kiss the sweet older woman. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for.” He grinned at her. “I’ll have this back in a couple of days.”

“I know you will.”

“Thanks, Jillian.”

“You’re welcome.”

He waved on his way out the door and started toward the bakery, hoping he was going to find something more in the video footage than he had among the stacks of photographs. He wanted to see the beautiful blond and her cute little girl walking around Sanderson or sitting by the old stone church. The goal was to start a timeline, hopefully linking Callie to the island before her mysterious appearance at the diner in Hartford.

“Nate,” Kay called into his radio, interrupting his thoughts.

He pulled the radio off his belt. “What’s going on?”