Chapter 28
Sutton
Overtime is killing me this week. I lean back in the chair at my desk in the writing room, rubbing my tired eyes.
Not once in the past three days—since Alice and I were together—have I managed to leave this place before midnight.
And I won’t tonight either. Not only is the exhaustion pushing me to the edge but not being able to finish what we started is making me unravel.
I can still taste her.
If I close my eyes, I can picture her face the moment she came undone on my tongue. The sound of her whimpering my name as she gave me something she’s never given anyone else haunts me, promising to stay with me for the rest of my days.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. The boundary between us, both personal and professional, wasn’t just crossed.
It was obliterated. I ran over it at full fucking speed the second she said yes.
And now that the line is gone, I can’t keep her at a distance.
I don’t want to. Not when all I want is to make good on my promise to show her she’s not broken, over and over and over, until she believes it.
Even if that means I’m teaching her for someone else.
The mere thought fucks with something deep inside. Something I’ve refused to acknowledge. Something I intend to keep ignoring for as long as she remains in this job. Because that’s all this is supposed to be—a job.
Dropping my pen, I stretch my right hand and examine my swollen, bruised knuckles.
The truth is, I’m already too deep, and I know better than anyone what happens next.
I can’t do my job when my mind is constantly wondering if the next call will be her needing my help.
That scenario has already played out, reality inching dangerously close to my deepest fears.
“Thought you’d want to see this.” Silas enters the writing room, a stack of papers in his hand. He drops them onto the desk.
I pick up the top one, a grayscale printout of local traffic cams. The time stamp is from three days ago—the morning after I visited Jack’s motel.
Each image features the same vehicle: a black Genesis G70.
I flip through them, noting the sequence of highway locations.
With each photo, the car is increasingly farther away from town.
“What’s this?” I ask, though the answer is already forming in my mind.
“That’s your guy leaving town.” Silas scratches the side of his nose with his thumb. “Leaving the state, actually."
A thread of relief unspools in my gut, the tension I’d been carrying finally starting to ease.
Silas crosses his arms, leaning his hip against the top of my desk. His eyes drift down. “What happened to your hand?”
I involuntarily flex my fingers. “Boxing.”
“Hm. Interesting because if you look at this page…” Silas flips the stack to the bottom image, stabbing his finger at the black-and-white still. An ATM camera captures Lanighan’s face in Albert Lea near the Iowa state border, the label clearly visible. “This guy’s face is pretty messed up.”
I fight a satisfied smirk and instead, fix unreadable eyes on my brother.
“You really have nothing to say?”
“I’m sorry,” I offer, though I’m really not.
“I never thought you’d keep secrets from me.”
“I didn’t want you to get involved.”
“Since when? We’ve done a lot of shit together, but right now, you’re sounding a bit too much like Spencer. I thought we were done keeping secrets from one another.”
I glance at the door, confirming we’re still alone, and drop my voice low. “You know this isn’t like that. Spencer was a scared kid when he left. He didn’t know how else to handle those threats. This could cost me my job. You think I want to drag you into that?”
Silas’s face turns to stone. “I’m supposed to have your back. That’s why I’m here. To keep things from getting too dark inside your head.”
“Things aren’t dark.”
“No? So you just go off half-cocked because you’re bored on a Tuesday?”
My voice dips low. “You and I both know nothing was going to happen to that guy unless he hurt her for real. I wasn’t going to wait around for that.”
“You’re supposed to call me for backup. Just like I wouldn’t hesitate to call you.”
Ah, hell. His point lands with precision, swamping me with guilt.
“Instead, you call Jack,” Silas grumbles.
I roll my eyes, pieces clicking into place. “He told you.”
Silas shakes his head. “He told me to check on you.”
“Same difference,” I mutter.
“Next time, don’t give him all the covert fun. I’d like to be involved.”
“There better not be a next time.” I study the photos in front of me again.
“There won’t be. Look at this.” Silas straightens and retrieves his phone.
He unlocks the screen and opens his text messages. Without a word, he presses play on a video clip and sets the phone in front of me on the desk.
The screen lights up with Lanighan sitting in a chair, face unblemished.
A thick, black microphone is positioned on the table in front of him.
The blue stuffed chair he occupies and the small walnut table beside him match the furnishings from his room at the motel, leaving no doubt about the setting.
Good afternoon, crime junkies. This is Jake coming to you live from a motel in Bumfuck Nowhere, Minnesota. I’ve been working hard to bring you the goods, but for now, don’t get too excited. I don’t have the best news.
“Where did you get this?” I ask distractedly, picking up the phone and pausing the video.
“Calloway sent it over this morning. He’s been combing old videos to learn more about this guy and his interest in Alice. Keep watching.”
Papers crinkle beneath my elbow as I return my attention to the screen.
As you know, I’ve been traveling across the country in another attempt to track down Alice Thompson.
Yes, the Alice Thompson. For any of my new listeners out there, I’ll give you a quick refresh.
Her brother, Devon Thompson, along with his accomplices Sheriff Ernest Farnsworth and local medical examiner Robert ‘Bobby’ McGinnis, faked his death in a desperate attempt to defraud his life insurance company in order to pay off significant debts owed to some very bad men.
If you recall, Devon drew national attention when he kidnapped his two children aged 3 and 1, leading local and state police on a manhunt across central Minnesota.
He’s currently serving a hefty twenty-five-year sentence.
Though I’ve heard your comments, and I have to agree.
That sentence is way too harsh. *laughter* Anyway.
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need to step back from this one for now.
Take a look at my most recent interaction with Ms. Thompson.
The video cuts to another scene, this one outside. The camera shakes too hard to get a clear understanding of what I’m looking at, but then it settles.
Right on Alice in the grocery store parking lot.
The camera zooms in as she pushes her cart across the blacktop, until Lanighan forcibly stops her by blocking her cart. A swift fury rises in my chest as the video plays on, the clips short and choppy.
“I need to talk to you, Ms. Thompson.”
“Leave me alone.”
“You don’t understand. I’ve been trying to find you.”
“Because I am not interested! Leave me alone.”
The clip cuts to another angle, clearly edited.
“Are you recording me?”
“It’s for the show.”
Another cut.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. I just want you to tell your side of the story. I know you had a hand in your brother’s arrest. Your own mother was sent to jail because of you.”
The video abruptly returns to Lanighan in the motel room, an arrogant smirk on his face as he relaxes back in the blue chair and picks up the mic.
There you have it. She doesn’t want to talk.
Look, guys, I’m tiptoeing on the line of the law here.
If you knew the things, borderline illegal things, I’ve done to try to get her to talk, I mean.
She won’t budge. So we’re going to move on from the Phoenix Fraudsters for a while.
Who knows, maybe she’ll come around on her own.
I know. I’m as disappointed as you are, but I found an incredible new case to turn our attention to.
Next week, I’ll be headed to California…
The screen goes black as the clip ends.
The chair beneath my ass squeaks as I lean back, handing Silas back his phone.
“What do you make of it?” I ask him, running my fingers over my chin. I already have my own thoughts forming, but my brother’s opinion matters to me.
“Before you beat the shit out of him and chased him out of town, I’d think he’s bluffing. Now?” Silas shrugs, his gaze steady. “I don’t think he’s coming back.”
“I don’t either. She’s proven to be too much work.” A smirk works its way to my mouth as I’m filled with pride.
Silas doesn’t miss it, but he lets it slide.
“Did you send this to the captain?” I shift the conversation before he can change his mind and give me any shit.
“Calloway did. His comment about borderline illegal might be enough to get his cell information. No doubt he probably had it on him while he went through her house. There’s a good chance he recorded that too.”
I nod. “Agreed.”
“I’ll let you get those reports done. It’s late.”
I check my watch. 00:27. “Yeah,” I sigh, picking up my pen.
Silas hesitates at the door. “Just to say, before I do, she’s lucky to have you.”
My eyes snap to my brother’s face.
“And she isn’t Jolene. If you take good care of her, I know she’ll take good care of you too. You deserve that, Sutt. In case you forgot.”