“If Garrett Reid attempts to flee, Flagler County Sheriff’s will arrest him,” Michael said. “Anson, the DA, isn’t happy about it because the case is a mess, but we’re not going to let him get away. If we have to, we’ll take him into federal custody as a material witness.”
“Do you think Reid knows where Clara went?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” Michael said. “Catherine believes they had an escape plan, and that Clara had no intention of returning for Garrett. But that won’t upset him, according to Catherine. He might have even told her to leave and protect herself. But Catherine is positive that if we can convince him that Clara killed Becca, he’ll talk.”
“You’ll have to fill me in on all the details,” Kara said, “if I’m going to have a chance to turn Reid against his partner.” It felt really weird for her to think that they were married.
The paramedic interjected, “And she needs stitches. The longer she delays in getting medical care, the more complications. It’s pretty serious.”
Matt looked from Kara to Michael. “We’ll fly back on that chopper of yours, go straight to the hospital in Jacksonville. Then talk to Reid.”
“I have an idea,” the paramedic said. “As long as you sign a consent form, I can work on your leg in the ambulance and drive you down there. It’s a couple hours, and my boss will havemy hide, but if it’ll help you get the woman who put that boy in a cage, it’s worth it.”
Kara frowned. “How did you—?”
“I listen,” he said. “Y’all’ve been very chatty.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Billy.”
Kara looked at Matt. She saw what she wanted in his eyes. Love, determination, and most importantly, complete trust.
She nodded. “Okay, Billy, let’s do it.”
38
Seven and a Half Years Ago
Garrett followed Becca upstairs to her childhood bedroom that looked and smelled like they were still in high school. She turned, closed the door behind him, and smiled. Was she thinking what he was thinking? That they’d both lost their virginity here, in her bed, on Becca’s sixteenth birthday?
All these feelings were filling him, feelings he only had when he was with Becca.
All the other women he had been with were games. Fun, satisfying, interesting... but he didn’t feel this wonderful and terrifying pressure in his chest when he was alone with them. He didn’t feel hot and cold and happy and sad all at the same time.
Becca sat at the end of her bed and patted the space next to her. He dutifully sat down, then took her hand because he needed to touch her.
“I’ve missed you,” he said. It was the last thing he planned to say. “Dinner was nice.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He touched her face, pushed her soft, wavy blond hair behind her ear. “Do you think... has too much happened?”
“I think we should take it slow.”
He nodded. “Slow. But moving forward.”
She smiled, kissed him lightly. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Garrett. I just didn’t know it when we were nineteen.”
“I hurt you.”
“We hurt each other.”
Garrett remembered their fight. Rather, Becca’s fight. He stood there and listened to every complaint she had about him, things he said and did and didn’t do, and he took it. Then he’d said, “If you don’t love me, just go.” And she left.
That was when everything changed for him. When he no longer cared about what other people thought. Becca didn’t love him, so nothing else mattered. He had fun. He did whatever he wanted. His moral compass—the love of his life—didn’t love him. He had no moral compass of his own.
“We’re different people,” Becca said. “That’s why it worked so well, but I didn’t see it until I no longer had it. Seeing you again after four years? Wow. Everything came back. Every feeling, every dream. Back then, I guess I wanted you to fight for me. Which was dumb. We had everything, and I thought you didn’t care enough. That if you cared, you would have fought back, in some twisted belief that your willingness to argue would prove your love.”
