“You mean fired.”
“Or I’ll be in jail as an accomplice to murder. And who do you think the Wraiths will come after once my cover is blown? Once you’re cooperating with the prosecution?”
I didn’t need to think about my answer. “You. Jenn, your momma.”
“That’s right. Don’t you see? Either way, Diane has to leave. If she doesn’t, she’s in danger, Jenn is in danger. We have to keep them safe.”
“You mean, you have to keep yourself safe.”
“No,” he ground out. “If I’d been worrying about myself, I wouldn’t have shot my bastard father in the chest after he was already dead. I would’ve walked away and let that woman frame my mother, and it would’ve worked. That lady is crazy, but her plan would’ve worked without me throwing a wrench in it. Now, at least, Elena is under suspicion from the Knoxville PD and the sheriff’s investigation, which has bought us some time. But time is running out.”
“So, what? Diane has to give up her whole life? Everything she’s built? Leave you kids?” There had to be a way to save her from this without her leaving everything behind.
Isaac seemed to hesitate, his glare cutting to the door, then back to me. “We should go somewhere else, to finish this discussion. But I think I know someone who can help.”
“Who?”
His hands came to his hips, and he sighed tiredly. “I think we should talk to Cletus Winston.”
Chapter Twenty-One
*Diane*
“All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
The first time Isaac showed up on my porch, ringing the doorbell like visiting his momma was the most natural thing in the world, I about fainted from shock.
He said, “Momma,” and stepped forward, wrapping his massive arms around my body to give me a big, tight hug.
I felt so fragile from all the upheaval and uncertainty over the last few weeks, and now this? I wondered if I would break in his arms. My baby was here, talking to me, hugging me. If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake from it.
When we parted, my eyes stung even as I greedily devoured every detail of his sweet, handsome face. He held still, allowing me to cup his jaw and inspect him, like he knew I needed a moment to find my way to the other side of this silent bewilderment and gratitude.
When I met his eyes again, he captured my hand, gave it a squeeze, and let it drop. Then he walked past me into the house, calling over his shoulder, “What do you have to eat? I’m starving.”
On stupefied autopilot with my heart in my throat, I shut the door and followed him inside. First, I made him a sandwich. Then, we sat across from each other at the kitchen table. He hadn’t been in this house in almost ten years. In this moment, watching him eat a sandwich in the same seat he’d occupied as a toddler, as a child, as a teenager, I simply could not keep my chin from wobbling. I swallowed it down, all of it, not wanting to make a fuss.
This was the first time I had him with me in forever. Crying and blubbering all over Isaac was not an option. I wasn’t sure why he was here, but I suspected Jason had sent him for some reason. No matter, I’d take whatever scraps I could get. But I would ask him about his nightguard and whether he was still grinding his teeth.
Before I could, Isaac’s eyes ensnared mine and he withdrew a piece of paper from his jacket, passing it across the table. “May I have some water? Or orange juice if you have it, please,” he said, lifting his chin toward the paper. It had only been folded once.
“Okay, baby,” I croaked out, managing a wobbly smile and picking up the paper as I stood.
Walking to the fridge, I opened the door and the paper at the same time. In Isaac’s handwriting, it read,
I believe the authorities are listening to everything said in this house. When I visit, say nothing about the investigation. I’ll be visiting you at odd times for the next few weeks. Pretend like it’s not unusual. Do not discuss anything related to Kip or Miller. Be calm and act as though everything is fine.
The time has come for you to leave Green Valley; if you don’t, you will likely go to prison and/or be used as a bargaining chip in order to get Repo to testify against the Iron Wraiths. The authorities know you and Repo are involved and believe you and he planned Kip’s murder together.
In a few weeks, you will leave here dressed like me and take my bike to the Dragon. Repo will meet you. From there, the two of you will disappear. Please don’t fight us. This is the only way to keep you safe.
My head spinning, my hands shaking, I stared into the fridge without seeing a single thing within. I already suspected what the first part of the letter revealed. Jason had been leaving me letters on my back porch for a while, always typed and unsigned. I’d found the first note two days after the only time he’d visited me weeks ago.
In his notes, Jason hadn’t come right out and said, The FBI has you under surveillance. His letters read more like code, but he’d made references to several movies we’d watched before The Event, where the entire premise of the story had been the FBI staking out a house. Needless to say, I’d caught on and had been careful to say nothing significant since.
I’d wanted to write Jason notes too. I’d wanted to tell him I missed him, but I didn’t dare leave anything outside. I couldn’t guarantee one of my letters wouldn’t be intercepted and I had no idea when he left his letters, his timing had been so sporadic.
But with Isaac visiting now . . .
Folding my son’s note as quietly as possible, I cleared my throat and asked, “Is grapefruit juice okay? I don’t have any OJ.”
“Yes, please,” he said calmly, normally, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
My gaze cut to his and we stared at each other. He might’ve sounded unconcerned, but my baby boy seemed to be sending me a hundred sympathy cards with his eyes, the sight of which steadied me. I needed to be strong; I didn’t want him worrying about me; I didn’t want Jennifer to worry about me either.
Grabbing the bottle of grapefruit juice, I closed the fridge and crossed to the cabinet. My brain whirled with questions, but I was able to answer most of them once I paused, took a deep breath, and considered the matter. Jason had said he would be arranging papers for us, new identities, and I supposed the fact that he know how to do that in the first place addressed a lot of my concerns.
Basically, the majority of my worries about running away boiled down to whether or not I trusted Jason. I trusted him to keep me safe. I had every confidence in his ability to make us disappear. Apparently, he was the expert, and I’d never had a problem delegating.
I guess that’s settled.
Feeling calmer, I realized it was past noon and I hadn’t consumed any food. Still standing in front of the cabinet, I withdrew two glasses instead of just one. I also picked up a pen and a notepad on my return to the table, tucking the paper under my arm so I could carry everything without making two trips.
Sitting across from Isaac once more, I poured his juice, then mine, and then opened the notepad. I wrote while I spoke, “I keep meaning to ask, are you still wearing your nightguard every night?” When Isaac didn’t reply right away, I glanced up from my writing and looked at him.