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I waited the rest of the afternoon for Picardo to send me the time of his meetup with Marshall. While I waited, I started assembling a new video from photos and bits of video I had acquired, as well as some voice-over I recorded at the Hub. I hadn’t decided yet whether I would release it or, if I did, when.
I felt guilty for neglecting both my father and my husband. s**t, that word sounded weird. Husband. Not boyfriend. Not fiancé. Conor was my husband.
Shortly before two o’clock, Rodeo texted they had found the fugitive for Pima Bail Bonds. Apparently, the guy had been at home sleeping off a bender. Completely forgot about his court date.
Around four, my mother called. “Jenna, are you coming to the hospital? Your father’s been asking about you.”
I stared at the video production ap
