“Which one of you is Duane?” he asked, then pointed the flashlight at me. I’d adverted my eyes so I wouldn’t be blinded, and was reminded how much I seriously hated this guy.
“You can’t pull cars over just because you’re looking for somebody, Jack,” Beau said, nice and friendly and with a shit-eating grin. “Not unless that person is missing or under arrest.”
“You’re Beau,” Jackson said, lifting his chin toward my brother. He redirected his attention back to me as he holstered his flashlight, still leaning against the car and into the window. “Duane, did you know my sister is out of town?”
I sat a bit straighter, surprised Jackson had pulled us over just to share his sister’s whereabouts with me, and glanced at Beau before answering. “Yes. I just spoke with her.”
“My aunt died, my momma’s sister. Jess is out in Houston with my parents, sorting everything out.”
Beau and I shared another look, and I read Beau’s thoughts perfectly because they mirrored mine, Why the hell is he telling us this?
“I know all this, Jackson. Like I said, I just spoke to Jessica.”
Jackson nodded, and I realized he was schooling his expression, keeping his tone flat. Something dark and cold settled in the pit of my stomach. This was a set up. I was sure of it. Jackson was setting me up, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out how.
Abruptly I knew we needed to leave, before Jackson could say anything else.
“Well, thanks for the info. We’ll just be on our way.” I motioned to Beau to restart the car.
“If you know about the funeral then I guess you know about the money, too. Right?”
I almost flinched. Almost. Instead I swallowed and nodded, bluffing. “That’s right. Know all about it. Start the car, Beau.”
Beau did as I instructed, but Jackson didn’t move away from the window. He just kept on talking.
“Oh. Did Jess tell you how she inherited all my aunt’s money? That she’s now independently wealthy and will be leaving Green Valley after Christmas?”
Beau eyebrows lifted, just a fraction of an inch, but otherwise he did an admirable job of hiding his surprise. Outwardly dispassionate, I stared at Jessica’s brother. Meanwhile my heart was beating out of my chest and I’d broken into a cold sweat.
Fear.
I was feeling fear.
The last time I felt fear, really and truly, was when my daddy locked me in the woodshed for two days with no food or water as punishment for sitting in his chair.
I couldn’t breathe.
Beau answered for me. “Like he said, Duane just talked to Jessica. He already knows all this. Now if you’ll step away from the car, we’ll be on our way home, officer.”
Jackson frowned, looking disappointed and confused by my lack of outward reaction, then nodded once and backed up so we could pull away.
Beau rolled up his window, being careful to check for traffic and using his blinker before pulling onto the mountain road. We drove in silence for a full minute and I was thankful for the quiet.
At first I considered the possibility that Jackson was lying. I dismissed this, as one quick call to Jess would be enough to disprove any false claims.
No, he was telling the truth.
Staff had answered the phone at her aunt’s house, now her house. It was a farm, she’d said. Jessica had mentioned horses on the property. Horses weren’t cheap to maintain. And she’d told me that her aunt had just died. She didn’t want to talk to me when others were present on her end. I pulled up the text messages she’d left earlier.
I’ll call you later today, we should talk.
I miss you.
“Fuck…” My forehead hit the window at my side. I closed my eyes as something sharp and intangible stabbed my heart. The pain was unbearable, spreading up my neck and down my spine. I held my breath, waited for it to pass.
“Did you know she was leaving? After Christmas?”
I shook my head and my voice was rough when I answered, “No. I don’t think she had plans to leave, not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“She’d planned to leave, just not yet. Not ’til she had enough money saved…”
I heard Beau mutter a curse then clear his throat. “It’s sad about her aunt.”
“Yes…it is.” I wondered if Jessica was close to her aunt. I wondered if she was hurting. As much fear and, frankly, despair I felt at the idea of Jessica leaving, the thought of her hurting, and me being powerless to help, was worse.
“Do you think it’s true? You know, Jackson is a little bitch. He could be trying to mess with you, now he knows you have it bad for his sister.”
I ignored Beau’s last statement, and addressed the former. “He’s not lying. If she had the money, she’d leave tomorrow. She told me so on our first date.”
Beau shut his mouth after that. Again I was grateful for the silence. I didn’t want to talk about Jessica leaving, debate the truth of it.
She had the means. She was leaving. There was nothing more to say.
***