Page 88 of Beckett
She touched the back of her neck. “The burn helped, in a weird way. When I’d start to doubt myself, wonder if maybe I was paranoid, going crazy—the scar was proof. He did that. Maybe I could be making some stuff up in my mind, but I knew this was real.”
“And definitely personal,” Travis said, returning to his data. “I’ve gone through everything—your social media, deleted posts, your public relations business work before this started. You’re remarkably non-offensive online. Professional, friendly, nothing that should trigger this level of obsession.”
“So I did something without knowing it?”
“Or you did nothing and he’s simply fixated.” Travis’s expression was matter-of-fact. “Mental illness doesn’t always follow logic. You could have cut him off in traffic. Looked like someone who hurt him. Smiled at him wrong. Or smiled at him right. The trigger could be anything or nothing.”
The dryer buzzed from down the hall, sharp and sudden. We all jumped.
“Your clothes,” Travis said unnecessarily.
I retrieved them, still warm and slightly damp at the seams but wearable.
“Just keep what you have on. I’ll never wear them. And you can take one of my cars.” He opened a drawer, pulled out a key fob from a collection of at least a dozen. “It’s in the garage.”
“You have cars?” Audra asked.
“Vehicles are necessary for theoretical emergency evacuation.” Travis handed me the keys. “I keep them around just in case.”
Travis collected escape routes he’d never use, backup plans for catastrophes that existed mainly in his mind. Though, after tonight, his paranoia felt a lot more like reasonable caution.
“I’ll keep digging,” he said, already focusing back on all the data compiling. “The pattern analysis is running. If he’s made any digital footprint in the last seventy-two hours, I’ll find it.”
“Thanks, Travis.” I meant it. “For everything. The shower, the food?—”
“Stop.” He cut me off, but his voice held warmth beneath the discomfort. “You know I don’t do well with…this.” He gestured vaguely at the space between us. “Just—I’m glad you’re both okay. When I saw you on the perimeter cameras looking like that…” He shook his head, glancing in the direction of his monitors. “Next time, try not to almost die getting here.”
“We’ll do our best,” I said dryly.
Audra stepped forward, and for a moment, I thought she might hug him. Travis must have thought the same because he took a quick step back.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
Travis nodded once. “Get out of here. I have work to do.”
We left him there, surrounded by his screens and data streams, hunting a ghost through digital shadows. The garage held six vehicles, each spotless. I clicked the key fob, and a Subaru SUV lit up. We got inside, and it started immediately, purring like it had just rolled off the lot.
As we pulled away from Travis’s house, I caught a glimpse of it in the rearview mirror—weathered siding and peeling paint, deliberately unremarkable. But now I’d seen Audra’s face on those monitors, seen the proof of her nightmare in pixels and code. Travis was back there, hunting through digital shadows with the same intensity he brought to protecting his own walls.
The Subaru’s headlights cut through the darkness ahead. Beside me, Audra sat wrapped in Travis’s too-large clothes, alive and warm and real. We’d survived the river. We’d survived the attempt on our lives.
But whoever had tried to kill us tonight was still out there.
Chapter 29
Audra
My head was still spinning as Beckett drove us back toward Pawsitive from Travis’s. The image of Beckett fighting to control the truck, the bridge railing splintering, the black water rushing up—I couldn’t shake it.
I’d brought death to his doorstep, and we’d barely escaped it.
Beckett had a preprogrammed burner phone Travis had provided pressed to his ear, one hand on the wheel as he navigated the dark Montana roads. His voice was steady, professional, but I could hear the underlying tension as he explained everything to Aiden.
“Yeah, we’re both fine.” A pause. “No, the stalker got away. I was too busy trying not to drown to get a good look at him.” Another pause, his jaw tightening. “I know. Yeah, do it. Whatever it takes.”
He ended the call and set the phone in the cupholder.
“Aiden’s coordinating security,” Beckett said, his voice clipped. “He and Hunter are going to patrol town—checkDraper’s Tavern, Deja Brew, anywhere someone could blend in and watch. Coop’s already at Pawsitive, walking the perimeter.”
