“Let’s assume for a moment she really was planning a trip. Do you remember anything specific she said about it?”
“She wouldn’t say. It was a big secret. She was leaving. She didn’t want to have anyone left behind after she was gone. That’s why she broke up with you. She’d stopped seeing all her other friends as well. I was the only one she confided in, but even then, she wouldn’t tell me any specifics.” Pain creased her features. “Of course, after…I realized why.”
“So you think she was planning suicide all along?”
“Well, of course. It all fits, doesn’t it?”
Rachel opened her mouth to object. She knew Carrie wasn’t planning suicide, but Travis held up a hand and continued.
“In her diary, she talks about a man with the initials of BF. This man led her to believe he would take her somewhere. Does that ring any bells?”
Layla’s eyes went wide. “You don’t think she was planning suicide?”
“Not from what we saw in the diary.”
She sank back in the chair and placed a hand on her chest. Her eyes welled with tears. “Oh, I never wanted to believe it. I’ve always felt I should have known. I should have done something.”
She rose and left the room, returning moments later with a tissue she used to dab her tears.
“Do you recall any man with the initials BF? We think she made contact with him the weekend of the prom. Maybe someone at the prom?”
“Well, you were there with her. She didn’t talk to anyone outside the regular crowd, I’m almost sure of it. I mean, you know Carrie. It took her a while to open up to people. I think I would have noticed if she had been talking to someone we didn’t know.”
Layla sat for a moment in silence before continuing. “I don’t remember anything about a man. She just said she’d come up with a plan. She was leaving for good. She even gave me a few of her things to remember her by. That cashmere sweater I always loved.” She chuckled fondly. “I still have it, though it’s been years since it fit. I can’t bring myself to give it away.”
She paused for another moment and shook her head. “I don’t remember her talking about a man at all. She wouldn’t say where she was going. She didn’t want anyone knowing. Once she left, she didn’t want anyone to be able to find her, especially her mother. She was adamant about making sure her mother never found out.”
Travis gave Layla a moment to think of anything else, and when she couldn’t, he set Tessa on the ground and rose from the couch, prompting the little girl to hold up her hands. Obliging her unspoken request, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek, resulting in another cheery squeal.
“She likes men,” Layla explained, taking the girl from his arms.
He pulled out his card and handed it to her, then gave her a light peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Layla. It was nice seeing you again. If you think of anything else, please call me.”
Rachel rose on wobbly legs, and Layla moved to give her a hug. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I’m just a little dizzy. I haven’t eaten today,” she lied.
The three said their goodbyes before Travis and Rachel made their way back to town.
“Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get much from that trip,” Travis said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them the moment he’d pulled from the driveway.
“Tell me about your wife. What was Layla talking about?”
For a long time, Travis didn’t say anything, and Rachel began to think he wasn’t going to answer. His delay surged more questions through her brain, leaving her more befuddled than she was before.
“My wife was murdered,” he finally said in a voice devoid of any emotion.
Without thinking, Rachel placed her hand on his thigh. “Oh, Travis. I’m sorry.”
“It was years ago.”
Rachel grew sick with remorse. Ever since she’d run into Travis, she’d thought of no one but herself. She’d been so wrapped up in hatred and self-pity, it never occurred to her that other people had problems besides herself. She suddenly wished she could take back every nasty thought, every biting word, every thoughtless accusation she’d directed toward Travis.
“I haven’t been very kind to you,” she murmured, her words choked with regret.
Her thoughts went back to Layla’s house, the easy affection he’d had for her child. He must have had dreams of being a father some day, dreams that were shattered by the death of his wife. He’d reached out to her. He’d kissed her. And she’d reacted as though he were some sex-driven creep, when maybe, just maybe, his intentions were sincere.
She silently sighed, wondering when she would ever get over herself and start giving people the benefit of doubt.
“I understand your situation,” he said quietly.