"Thank you." My throat felt tight. "That means a lot."
I turned toward the door and nearly collided with Jett standing in the doorway. His expression told me he'd heard everything.
"You're leaving?" The question came out quiet, almost flat.
"Yes." I couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Being in Kentucky was always a temporary situation, you know that."
He nodded, then his face morphed into a smile. "I'm happy for you. Education is important."
"Thanks."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with things neither of us seemed willing to say. Marv cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly very interested in the receipts on his desk.
"I should get you back to the campground," Jett said finally. "It's getting dark."
The drive felt endless despite being only fifteen minutes. Jett kept his eyes on the road, his hands at perfect ten-and-two on the steering wheel. I stared out the passenger window, watching the gray leafless landscape blur past.
When we pulled into the campground entrance, Jett shifted into park but didn't immediately open the door.
"Can I ask a favor?" he said.
"Of course."
"Will you go Christmas shopping with me tomorrow? After the tour?"
I smiled, surprised. "Christmas shopping?"
"Yeah. I need to pick up some gifts, and I could use a second opinion."
He's shopping for Naomi, I thought. Probably trying to find the perfect gift, and he wants a woman's perspective. The idea of helping him pick out presents for someone else felt like volunteering for emotional torture, but how could I say no?
"I wouldn't be much help," I said carefully. "I'm not great at gift-giving."
"I think you'll be helpful in this case. Please?" he added in a teasing voice.
Ugh, that smile. "Okay," I agreed. "I'll go."
December 15, Monday
filling linethe automated system that fills bottles with bourbon in a production facility
JETT'S PICKUPtruck pulled to a stop outside my van at precisely six o'clock. I grabbed my jacket and bag, locking the van door behind me, and climbed into the warm cab where Christmas music played on the radio.
Jett handed me a to-go cup from a local coffee shop. "For energy."
I accepted it gratefully, wrapping my cold fingers around the cup and inhaling the rich aroma. "Thank you," I said, settling into the passenger seat.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Octavia Guy:Be patient. Detective Hall is looking into everything we found on Boyd Biggs. He said he'll have news for us soon. Don't do anything in the meantime.
I stared at the message, my mind spinning through possibilities.
"Everything okay?" Jett's voice pulled me back to the present.
"What? Oh. Yes." I stowed my phone. "Everything's fine. For now."
He glanced at me with concern but didn't press, and I was grateful. We drove through Lexington as darkness settled over the city. Christmas lights twinkled in storefront windows and around lampposts. Jett turned into a shopping center and pulled into a parking space in front of an independent toy store, its windows filled with elaborate holiday displays.
I shifted closer to the window. "What is this?"
