Cumulus by Eliot Peper

alone. He had to be the killer. Remembering the camera dangling around her neck, she snatched it up to get a shot of him through the window. But by the time she had it ready, the angle was bad and she couldn’t see his face. She took the shot and then dashed out through the back, noting that the back door was closed but unlocked. She made it through the side gate just in time to see him round a corner at the end of the block.
    Strolling through the neighborhood streets to the station, he looked like just another Slummer. She stayed at least a block behind, crouching behind an overflowing dumpster while he purchased a morning coffee from a street vendor. He moved on, and it was clear he was headed for BART. She had to tighten the gap to make sure she didn’t lose him in the crowd of people entering and exiting the station.
    She stepped onto the escalator once he was a third of the way up. Keeping her camera down in front of her chest, she angled the lens up and took a picture as he stepped off the escalator and onto the platform. His face had flashed past for a moment, but she doubted she had gotten a good shot off.
    Every BART car had two sets of doors—one near the front, and one near the rear. He stood waiting for the Richmond train. When it arrived, she entered into the same car through the other door.
    Lilly’s entire body was trembling. Who was this man? Why had he killed Sara? Was she insane to have followed him this far? But if she didn’t, wouldn’t he just get away? The cops probably wouldn’t have shown up until that afternoon. By that time, he would have been long gone. She gripped her camera tight—at least she’d have some evidence to show for it once she got in touch with the police. Pretending to fuss with it, she fired off shots in his direction whenever the train screeched loud enough to cover the sound of the shutter.
    He disembarked in North Berkeley, and she followed him past a couple of Security guards. Her guest pass was still valid so they didn’t harass her, but there was no way she would trust them to take her side if she reported the murder. For a moment, she was afraid they’d sense her fear and approach her, but they didn’t give her a second look.
    Out on the street in the North Berkeley Green Zone, Lilly rounded a corner just in time to see the man duck into a café. She crossed the street and sat on a park bench, pretending to watch the foot traffic. Every time the café door opened, her eyes would dart over to see who was leaving.
    She couldn’t stop her hands from shaking no matter how hard she tried. Sara’s empty eye socket stared back at her whenever she blinked. It was too much to take in. They had gossiped over a late-night glass of wine the night before last, when Sara had offered to let Lilly use the Land Rover for the Tobin wedding. Now her bodily fluids covered half the living room. The two mental images just couldn’t exist in the same universe.
    She almost missed him. The man looked completely different. The grungy sweatshirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a crisp buttoned shirt and slacks. It was the hair that tipped her off. The brown rumpled locks still stuck out at odd angles. She did a double take and then paralleled his path by walking up the opposite side of the street.
    Within a few blocks, they entered a residential neighborhood. The maples lining the sidewalk had leaves the color of blood. At least they gave Lilly the convenient excuse of photographing the trees. The man glanced back to check out a passing jogger, and Lilly got a decent shot of his face.
    At this point, momentum was the only thing keeping her going. Panic had sparked her into action instead of freezing her up. Now she couldn’t stop for fear of falling into its paralyzing embrace.
    On the opposite sidewalk, the man spun on his heels and headed back up the sidewalk, veering off to enter a small, shingled office building.
    Lilly forced herself to continue up the block before doubling back.