Page 109 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

“I don’t buy that,” I said. “It’s too passive. She was clearly in charge.”

“It’s because of me,” Traveler said, her gaze far away.

“What do you mean?” James asked.

“Sheryl was my only friend,” she admitted. “I mentioned things I shouldn’t have,” she added. “About you and Stan and Chuck…” she said, looking apologetically at her uncle.

He shook his head. “Weren’t telling her shit that wasn’t true,” he said.

“Sheryl is… was smart. She would have done her research, figured out which one of you she could go to…”

“But why Stan?” Chuck asked. “Why not me? The fuck-up divorcee…”

“I don’t know. Maybe she picked up on some sort of animosity toward James from Stan,” I suggested. “She would have worked at that crack until it was a crater. Then she got whatever she wanted out of him.”

“Stan was the uncle who had the least love for me,” Traveler said. “He could barely hide his distaste for me while he was pretending to keep me safe.”

“Motherfucker,” James hissed as his gaze lingered on Traveler’s throat. He shook it off, though, and looked up at her face. “You shot straight and steady and true,” he told her, nodding.

“I might have hated all those lessons,” Traveler said, nodding. “But they came in handy after all.”

“It shouldn’t have come to that. You should have been safe,” James said, head hanging.

“Hey, listen,” I said, watching his head lift to look at me. “Your daughter is a royal fucking pain in the ass,” I said, hearing a choked laugh from Chuck that he tried to cover with a cough. “She’s got a mouth, and she knows how to use it. She poked at the neighborhood crews for years. And your work somehow managed to keep her safe all that time, despite her aforementioned pain in the ass personality,” I said, glancing at Traveler who was smiling at me, knowing I meant no malice.

“You couldn’t have predicted someone that close to you would betray you. It would be like my own brother betraying me,” I said.

To that, James nodded.

“How did you and Don end up at the warehouse?” Traveler asked, looking over at Chuck.

“Stan called,” Chuck said. “Said something about how your father had a lead on who went after you guys, and he needed backup, that he couldn’t go because he was taking care of you.” Chuck bit off the last few words, realizing just now what a double entendre that was.

“How’d you get away?” James asked, shaking his head.

“I played dead,” Traveler admitted with a snort. “I figured most people, even cops, don’t know exactly how long four or five minutes is. He gave up soon after I went limp. I went for help at my neighbor’s, but he was asleep. That was when Stan—though I didn’t know it was Stan at the time—realized I was alive and came for me. I ran, stole his car, and drove around to try to find one of you. When I couldn’t, I drove to Navesink Bank.”

“Why didn’t you call—“ Chuck started.

“He stole my phone when I was in the shower.”

“Fucker,” her father growled.

“Got any more questions for her?” I asked, looking at Traveler.

“Can’t think of anything right now. I’m sure something will come up, though.”

“I’m taking Traveler back to Navesink Bank with me,” I told him, watching his brows go up slightly. “This shit needs to blow over. She needs to be safe. I can keep her safe.”

To that, James looked between the two of us, then nodded.

“That would be good,” he agreed.

“I’ll get her a new phone, so you can be in touch with her, until then, I will give you mine,” I told him.

“Sounds like a plan. You need to rest,” James said, looking at his daughter, his eyes softening.

She did.

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