Getting into my car, I wrack my brain, desperately trying to find a way out of this. I just don’t understand who could have found her. Was it just a random hiker that came across her? Or someone more dangerous?
Someone that could potentially harm everything I’ve worked so hard for?
She knows who I am.
It would only take one phone call to the FBI to report me and I would never be able to stop running. It would be easier to put my gun in my mouth.
Slapping the steering wheel, I curse as I speed through the mountains, heading back towards Flagstaff. There might just be a way I can salvage things. Provided Dutch hasn’t already put a call in to her uncle.
I was behind a door eavesdropping the other day when I overheard Agent Gerhardt make that phone call to the radio station. I know that she’s been hiding evidence, covering up that her niece is the one knocking off remote members of Gianelli’s organization.
If I can bring Charlotte Rossi to him, he might just forgive me for losing his daughter. Well, probably not. But it could possibly work as a peace offering while I beg to be allowed to hunt Dutch down.
It has to work, it’s the only option besides suicide that I can see.
Chapter 42
Trey
We’re about twenty miles outside of Vegas, heading towards California when Rebecca leans over, turning the radio on. The tail end of a song wraps up, when a special announcement is broadcast.
“Newest development in the House of Horrors case. According to an inside source, the body of a little girl, the only one left unclaimed, will be buried this afternoon at Calvary Cemetery.”
My whole body stiffens, and I risk a glance at Rebecca. She’s frozen in place, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. A single tear leaks down her face, dropping onto her chest. I’m not sure she’s even breathing.
A low wail pulls from deep within her, and she curls over herself, shoulders wracked with sobs as her anguish fills the car.
Fuck.
Checking my mirrors, I change lanes quickly, causing more than one car to blare their horns at me. Pulling off at the next exit, I pull into a Taco Bell parking lot and jump out of the car. Opening her door, I pull her out, wrapping her tightly in my arms as she soaks my shirt with her tears.
Rebecca clings to me desperately, her body shaking so badly that I begin to worry. I can’t imagine what it is like to lose a child, let alone two. One murdered cruelly by those fuckers, the other having met an unknown fate. I know what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth.
Dread slithers down my spine at the thought of going back. Maybe it's a premonition, perhaps a warning from God. Either way, I have an incredibly bad feeling that if we go back, I may never see her again.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” I whisper to her, running my hands up and down her back as she begins to quieten.
“I need to say goodbye,” she murmurs back, her voice husky with tears and regret. “Then I’m all yours, Trey. Always. But I have to say goodbye to my baby first.”
Resting my chin on the top of her head, I sigh. “Rebecca, I don’t like this. I understand you need this, I do. But I’m worried that it may be a trap. It wouldn’t be difficult for them to piece together that you’re the Retribution Killer. I think they’re trying to lure you back. I can’t lose you, baby. If they take you—” A shiver runs through me at the thought.
Pulling back, she looks up at me, and the devastation on her face nearly destroys me. “We can go in the middle of the night,” she pleads, desperate for me to agree. “Please, Trey. Five minutes, that’s all I need.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. How can I say no? What kind of husband would deny his wife a chance to say goodbye? To give her the barest amount of peace? I close my eyes in defeat, running my hand over my beard.
“Okay, but we do it my way. I’m serious, Rebecca, it’s too dangerous. If we get caught? We’ll both be in prison for the rest of our lives. I can’t let that happen to you.”
Resting her head on my chest, she nods her agreement. “Come on, might as well get some food while we’re here,” I say, and she follows me, wiping the remnants of tears from her face.
Please, Father, protect her and keep her safe.
***
I chose the hour that would most likely see us safely through our mission. At three forty-five a.m., I pull onto Knoles Drive, slowly driving north while Rebecca scans the cemetery. We turn left onto University Drive, then left again on S Milton Road, doing the same.
It all looks clear. No suspicious vehicles, no flashlights, or any other activity to be seen. Pulling into the parking lot for the university’s apartment housing, we get out, quietly closing the doors behind us.
There’s a decisive chill in the air, a steady breeze rustling through the pines while the full moon and starry night lend the barest of light to help us see. We’re both dressed fully in black, down to the combat-style boots on our feet. Rebecca has her knife strapped to her thigh, and my gun is in my waistband.
