All He Has Left(16)

Dani knew about Jake tragically losing Sarah in the car accident last year because of shared social media friends. She’d considered reaching out to him a few times when she’d moved back to town earlier this year—just to see how he was doing—but she never did. There was still some lingering pain there, even though what had happened between them was a lifetime ago.

A twentysomething agent named Eric Mitchell walked over to her. He was wearing the same FBI jacket as Dani and the others. She liked Mitchell. Fresh out of the academy, he was raw but eager to learn. She appreciated that about him. So many of the other agents were so cocky, it was near impossible to teach them anything worthwhile. Of course, she probably had the same attitude back in the day. But not Mitchell, which was why she always requested him on her cases.

“We’ve got a hit,” Mitchell said, eyes flashing, looking at his phone.

“Suspect’s phone signal?”

“Yep. Tracking it right now.”

“Where?”

Mitchell showed her a digital map on the screen. “It’s popping up a few miles from here, over in downtown proper. Signal is on the move.”

“What about the phone of the suspect’s daughter?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Dead end.”

“OK, gather the others. Let’s get going.”

“You want me to say something to the detective?”

Dani considered it for a moment. She should probably say yes but couldn’t do it. “No, we’ll bring him in ourselves. They’ll just clumsy it up.”

“Copy that.”

Watching Mitchell hurry off to rally the others, Dani stood there a moment and silently berated herself. Clouded judgment, indeed. While she did believe getting the police involved in Jake’s apprehension would only make things more complicated—after all, they’d just mucked it up here—she certainly had ulterior motives. Dani wanted to be the first one to speak to him. She felt certain she would know the truth just by looking him square in the eyes. Jake had never been able to lie to her.





TEN


Jake was innocent in Caitlin’s death. But he was now guilty of a growing list of lesser crimes in the aftermath. Evading police. Breaking and entering. And he’d just added car theft. The beat-up white Ford truck was branded on the side with AISD Maintenance. Jake was friends with Javier, the head of the high school’s maintenance department. The white school truck was always parked next to two maintenance sheds inside a secured fenced-in utility area attached to the school. Jake had borrowed the truck from Javier countless times over the years to haul around larger football gear. The truck’s key was in the same place as always—hanging from a lanyard on a hook on the wall behind Javier’s desk. Jake figured no one would even realize the truck was missing until first thing on Monday morning. Thankfully, the gas tank was nearly full.

After parking on a side street downtown, Jake stood at the corner of Sixth Street and Congress and took in the massive party crowd in front of him. Sixth Street was a five-block entertainment district lined with every bar, club, and music venue imaginable. Although Jake had frequented it often in his younger, unmarried days, he hadn’t spent too much time down here in recent years. He slung a black backpack he’d found at the high school over his right shoulder. It was stuffed with various clothes and costume items he’d pilfered from the high school’s drama department—more theft. He had no idea what he might be encountering out here but felt better equipped to deal with it now. He was currently wearing a brown knit ski cap pulled down low on his head, covering every strand of his wavy brown hair, along with fake black square-rimmed glasses. It was surreal to be dressing up in some kind of stupid costume. But what choice did he have? He didn’t want anyone recognizing him right now.

Pushing off the building, Jake made his way toward the crowd. He knew police would be up and down Sixth Street. He’d already spotted two of them across the way on the opposite sidewalk, dealing with an overly raucous group. He was second-guessing his decision to come here. But he decided not to turn back, considering he was only two minutes away from meeting with Drew and hopefully getting the critical info and cash he needed. As he crossed in front of the historic Driskill hotel, Jake entered the crowd. It was like walking into a cornfield and immediately being engulfed on all sides. He pushed his way through the people, most of whom seemed highly intoxicated. A majority of them wore burnt-orange Texas Longhorn gear, but there were also pockets of Auburn Tigers fans sprinkled throughout. Everyone was partying, regardless of who won today.

Jake finally made his way up to the entrance of BBG’s sports bar, which sat in the middle of a strip of other bars. He paused for a moment and scanned the crowd inside. There was a long bar top on the right side and tables lining the other side. Nearly every chair was taken. There were probably fifty large TVs stuck on every bit of wall space available, showing various college football games and other sports. It took Jake a moment to find Drew sitting by himself near the back of the room at the end of the bar. Drew was a big man at six four and probably 250 pounds with a thick beard. He wore a maroon Austin High ball cap and a gray sweatshirt. It was strange to think of him as the head football coach when the man had been Jake’s top assistant for more than a decade.

A year ago, Jake had returned to his head-coaching duties only a week after Sarah’s death, against his doctor’s recommendation. He had been climbing the walls sitting around and just being sad all day. It was a stupid decision. Especially because he had also started drinking more heavily to help numb the pain. His team was riding a seven-game losing streak into the final game of the year but had found themselves up by three points late in the game against their rival. It was intense. Jake had been all over one referee the whole night whom he felt had made several calls going against them.