Chapter 10 #4
But there would be a handy way for someone to leave the area without being spotted, she abruptly realized, rolling to a stop as she allowed the random thought to fully form.
From the beginning she’d tried to hold on to the belief that Victoria and Tegan were still alive.
Even after the sports car was found wrecked, with blood in the driver’s seat, she’d grimly tried to cling to hope.
Not just because it would be horrible to think they were dead, but she couldn’t bear for her father to live with the whispers he was involved in their tragic end.
Now, she forced herself to think through the necessary steps it would take to genuinely disappear forever.
She started with the thought that Victoria had been threatened. Either by Adam or a stranger? What would she have done? Panicked? No. Victoria was many things, but she wasn’t a coward.
If she’d been threatened by someone, then she was cunning enough to have considered a way to eliminate that threat. First by putting a knife in their back. If that didn’t work, she would have plotted the best means to escape.
There wouldn’t have been any fleeing in the early hours of the morning without a destination in mind.
And she would have made sure she wasn’t being followed by her enemy.
What was the point of leaving the comfort and safety of her home—along with a husband who would do anything to protect her—unless she was confident she had an equally safe place to go where no one could find her once she vanished?
So there must have been a plan.
Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, Jesse shuffled through her memories. She didn’t recall what Victoria was doing the night before she disappeared. Jesse had tried to avoid the woman whenever possible. But there’d been no missing the dramatic exit the next morning.
No missing it … no missing it …
The words whirled through her mind. At the time, it’d seemed like just another argument, only this one had ended with Victoria storming away.
But why argue at all? If she was determined to leave Mac and steal his money, why not sneak away?
She could easily have packed a few bags and had them stored in her car before she went to bed.
Her dad always worked until late into the night; he wouldn’t have noticed anything missing.
And then she could have snuck away, along with the money, before Mac or Jesse woke.
Instead, she’d created a huge scene.
Which meant she’d wanted everyone to know she was leaving.
Why?
One option was that she wanted to make sure that she hurt Mac Hudson so deeply he didn’t come looking for her.
He wasn’t the sort of man who would just let his wife take off with his stepdaughter without making sure they were okay.
But why crash her car? She could have just vanished.
Unless she wanted him to think she was dead?
It wasn’t a bad theory, but it didn’t fully answer all her questions. Like what happened to her father. It was too much of a coincidence for him to disappear for it not to be connected to Victoria.
Jesse’s fingers suddenly tightened on the wheel until her knuckles turned white. Wait. What if the scene hadn’t been for her dad’s benefit, but for her?
What if Victoria was threatened and returned home to tell her husband what happened? They didn’t have a perfect marriage, but she knew that Mac Hudson would give his life to keep her and Tegan safe.
He might have staged the fight for her to overhear.
Certainly it would make it all much more believable if she truly assumed that Victoria had left in a huff.
Everyone knew that Jesse was a terrible liar.
It would be obvious whether she was genuinely upset by the disappearance of her stepmother and stepsister or faking it.
It would even explain why Noah had seen her father out that morning.
If Victoria had staged the fight and then staged the crash, she would need a getaway car hidden somewhere close by.
Maybe her father had arranged the crash, and planted the blood, before driving Victoria and Tegan to a vehicle hidden along one of the numerous access roads.
Then, returning to the bar, he’d realized he’d been seen by Noah and pretended to be drunk so the younger man wouldn’t ask awkward questions.
It was obviously one of endless possibilities, like Schrodinger’s cat, but it did fit most of the facts. Or at least the facts she currently possessed.
The problem now was how to prove whether it was true or not.
With a burst of determination, Jesse hit the gas pedal and rattled her way back to town. She had new information and a new hypothesis to what happened, but in some ways she was back to where she’d started.
She had to expose the real Victoria. How else could she discover who’d terrified the older woman into hiding if she didn’t know her identity or who might be a threat? Once she had a name and her previous location, she would be able to backtrack to talk to her friends and family.
She might even find Victoria.
Of course she’d already discovered that learning the truth was easier said than done. How did you discover information on a person without knowing their real name?
Jesse pulled the truck to a halt in front of the Tap Room and switched off the engine with a vague sense of defeat.
She’d already searched through social media and questioned Victoria’s one friend in town.
She couldn’t even use Victoria’s marriage certificate because it was obviously bogus.
All she had was an old picture from a birthday party nine years ago.
Jesse sucked in a sharp breath. A picture.
Maybe that was all she needed. One of the waitresses at the nightclub had been griping a few months ago about being catfished by a guy who was pretending to be the son of a Saudi oil sheik.
She said that she’d used a reverse image search to pull up his real identity.
He was really an out-of-work actor who was living in his mother’s basement.
She should at least give it a try.
Jesse slid out of the truck and headed toward the front door. She was pulling out her keys when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, as if someone had started around the edge of the building only to turn back when they realized she was there.
Unable to squash her curiosity, Jesse jogged to the end of the block and glanced down the street. Nothing. She looked both ways before scurrying forward to enter the alley that ran behind the Tap Room. It seemed impossible that anyone could have vanished so quickly. Had she imagined the shadow?
Taking a quick peek behind the dumpsters, Jesse turned back toward the Tap Room. It was only then that she caught sight of the spray-painted words on the back door.
Leave now or else.
She clenched her teeth. Not very original. But at least she knew that she wasn’t losing her mind. She’d seen whoever had done this a second before they’d disappeared.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help identify the jerk.
Jamming her key into the lock, she shoved open the door and stepped into the small foyer. Then, closing the door behind her, she made sure it was tightly bolted before she slumped against the wall.
Who the hell would spray-paint her door?
And why threaten her? It wasn’t like she had a lot of enemies in Canton.
She hadn’t been around for years. And now that she was back, it was just to get the paperwork for her dad’s death certificate so she could sell the bar.
Something that should make the whole town happy.
Unless someone realized that she was investigating the past? She was asking a lot of questions.
It made sense that there was someone in town who was afraid of having the truth exposed.
So what should she do? She wasn’t stupid enough to try to chase down whoever had vandalized her door.
For one thing, they were long gone by now.
And for another, they might be dangerous.
And she wasn’t going to report the crime.
Not when the current sheriff might easily be the one responsible.
He could lose everything if he was involved in Victoria’s disappearance.
Mired in her inability to decide how best to deal with the threat, Jesse nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock shattered the thick silence.
Now what?
Straightening her spine, she forced herself to march through the main area of the bar to yank open the front door.
“Leave me the hell alone,” she snapped, blinking against the morning light. It was blinding, in contrast to the gloom of the bar. A second later, her eyes adjusted, and she could make out the details of the tall man with neatly trimmed brown hair.
Her lawyer, Eric Walker.
Her gaze lowered, to take in his khaki slacks and polo shirt. It was the first time she’d seem him without a suit.
“Sorry,” she murmured, stepping back. “Come in.”
His expression was concerned. “Is something wrong, Jesse?”
She shook her head, forcing a stiff smile. “I’m just on edge. I didn’t realize it would be so stressful staying in this place.”
He continued to study her, clearly not believing her lame excuse. For a tense moment, she feared he might demand to know why her cheeks were flushed and her hand was pressed over her racing heart. At last, he lifted a manila folder clutched in his fingers.
“Then you’ll be happy to know that these are the papers you need to sign to get things moving. I know it’s Sunday, and if you want a few days to read them over—”
“There’s no need. I trust you,” she interrupted, plucking the file from his fingers.
The air in the bar was hot and stuffy despite the air-conditioning, but suddenly she felt chilled to the bone.
She couldn’t give herself time to consider what the papers represented.
Not when it felt as if she was losing her dad all over again.
“If you have a minute I’ll sign them now. ”