“Didn’t look like a rescue mission to me.”
“Hm.”
We chatted through a few more theories, then put some time on the calendar to discuss the schedule for finalizing my cases. With a few days off for New Year’s, I was grateful to leave the office and get back to the cabin on the lake.
On the way over, I stopped at the tiny Lake Buchanan Post Office. Holding my breath, I opened the post box. Inside was a postcard with turquoise blue water on the front. The postmark was from George Town, Cayman Islands.
I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and googled the location, frustrated when I realized it was a British island and definitelynota non-extradition country. I got back into my truck and was halfway to the cabin when I remembered what the Cayman Islands were actually known for.
Jesse had mentioned his family had offshore accounts but hadn’t given me the details. If I had to guess, he’d grabbed the cash and was figuring out next steps. As much as I wanted to max out my credit cards and get on the next plane to the Caribbean, he’d only have sent it to me if he’d already left.
I hoped.
It was a gut punch to witness the two mangled vehicles being pulled from the lake. The department dragged the bottom of the lake around the vehicles for evidence, but the divers declared that the conditions near the bottom of the dam made it impossible to continue the search, and the local businesses complained that shutting down the highway and waterways was hurting the local economy.
Ronnie’s eyes lit up as she breathlessly informed me that the department interviewed several of the prisoners Jesse had fucked up on the inside. Initially reticent to speak, a few deals were quietly struck, andnow they were singing.
“Every time he was moved to another location, Jesse’s father bribed someone new to kill his son. Can you believe it?” She shook her head, not knowing she’d confirmed Jesse’s worst fears. “So, now the department’s wondering if the weather erased his trail, or if he was intercepted.”
She went on for a bit about one of her favorite local podcasters, who was going to do an episode on the case and the disappearance of all the major players in the Travis family. I nodded in all the right places, tension easing by degrees.
They weren’t looking at Jesse anymore—not as a suspect, anyway. Maybe I could breathe a little easier.
I closed out my last case two weeks ago, let the lease go on my post-war apartment, and I moved out to the lake full-time. Jesse’s case was still open, and would remain so, but the department was no longer actively looking for his body.
The Rangers discovered Jesse’s father had been tracking his movements through a contact in the justice department who had conveniently gone missing. None of this ever officially circled around to Kyler, who was still resting comfortably at the bottom of Lake Buchanan with Jesse’s dad, but I was absolutely certain he’d been the one to track Jesse and leak the location of the safe house.
The idiot podcaster Ronnie was so excited aboutpublished his episode about the Travis family disappearance last month, eagerly informing his audience that there had been multiple sightings of several members of the Travis family in Cuba.
They barely mentioned Jesse’s name.
The weather had grown hot. The cove was filling up with families returning to their summer cabins. I could move on and leave this all behind me.
Any minute now.
The problem was, leaving this behind me was proving harder than I thought it would be. Impossible, even. I hadn’t heard from Jesse in six months, not a thing since that one blank postcard. A clear sign he’d moved on, and I should too.
I was alone in the cabin with all the time in the world, with nothing to do but putter around the lake, play one-sided Rummikub, and memorize the list of non-extradition countries. I had strong opinions on which ones would be the best.
Ridiculous.
And I checked the mail every single day.
I couldn’t help myself. Walking into that small building, avoiding the questioning looks of the good folks behind the counter, and turning the key on my small mail slot was always the best moment of my day. Immediately followed by the worst.
I didn’t know what my problem was. I’d shared an illicit holiday with a criminal. Nothing more. Sure, he’d promised to let me know where he landed, but he’d already done that and owed me nothing further.
Not only had I completely built this thing up in my head, but Jesse was also keeping me safe by falling off the face of the earth.
As confident as I was that the department had no clue of my involvement, I was fucking lucky that none of this had ever made its way back to my door.
And yet…Jesse Travis had burrowed under my skin like no one else ever had. I knew the psychology of it. We were both alone in the world, and he was someone I could care for. Protect. Start a new life with. Even if I didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, or if he was still alive.
Ugh.
I doubted his remaining family had any clue that he was alive, and even if they did, there weren’t enough of them left to do much of anything. Ididknow that the few vestiges of the Travis family in the Austin area were using public defenders, which meant Jesse’s little trip to the Caymans wiped out the entire Travis family fortune.
It was more than a little ironic that Jesse had managed to take down his family even more thoroughly than we had.
