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As they walked up the path, Travers and another man appeared out of nowhere.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Rafe warned Noah.
“It’s a mistake.” But his voice lacked credibility.
They found Jessica on the patio, a martini in front of her. “Noah!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing home from work?” Then she turned toward Rafe. “Is everything okay?”
“Jessie, darling, I’m sure there’s an—”
“Shut it,” Rafe snapped. “Where is she?”
“Whatever are you talking about?”
“Lillibet.”
“I’m sorry… Who?”
“Cut it,” Rafe said. He crossed the tiles and grabbed her shoulders.
“Hands off my wife!”
Travers restrained Noah.
“We’ve got you meeting with her at the coffee shop. It’ll be a matter of time before you’re tied to getting her the job at the club. Her friend can identify you. And you were in Florida this weekend. Your name is on the manifest, and Noah authorized the expenditure. I will ask one last time.” He squeezed her hard enough to leave bruises.
“Noah! He’s hurting me!”
Noah struggled to get away.
“Call the police.” Rafe nodded to the agent. “I will ask one last time. Where is Lillibet?”
“Ungrateful little bitch was going to ruin it all!”
“What?” Noah went still.
“Noah, please! This should be ours! Ours.” Hysteria mounted in her voice. “I did it for us! For you… She was going to ruin it all! Don’t you understand?”
Rafe forced himself to release her before he caused real damage.
She dropped to her knees and crawled toward her husband.
Rafe crouched in front of her, preventing her forward progress. “Where is she?”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “She can’t hurt us.” Her high-pitched voice was gone, replaced by a haunting singsong voice. “She was going to tell. Can’t tell now. Can’t tell now. She loved him. Ha! I promise. It’s all okay. Shh. Shh. No one knows.” She went around Rafe, focused on Noah.
“Damn it to hell, Jessica, where is the woman?” Noah asked, voice sandpapery with disbelief and disgust.
“At peace.”
“Fuck. The lake house,” Noah said to Rafe. “That’s where she always goes for peace. God. It has to be the lake house.”
Rafe knew the couple kept a second home, but he’d never been invited. “Address?”
One of Celeste’s team nodded and moved into action while the other remained in place. Rafe sent a message to Celeste with an update and letting her know they might need some assistance from the authorities. She replied right away that she would be in touch with the mayors in both jurisdictions and confirming a team and the police were on the way to the house on Lake Livingston.
“Gate code?” Rafe asked. “And you’re giving the police permission to enter?”
Noah nodded his assent and rattled off the gate code as well as the ones for the alarm and front door. “And boat house.” His voice cracked as he added another.
“Is she alive?” Rafe asked. “Jessica!”
She didn’t respond, and she grabbed Noah’s ankle and started to inch up his leg, but he shook her off. “The fuck?”
Jessica collapsed in a heap, sobbing, picking at her skin.
Noah sank into a chair, head bowed, shoulders slumped, a broken man. “That poor woman.”
Rafe struggled against the rising tide of empathy. But it was there, unwelcome. Noah wasn’t responsible for his wife’s actions, no matter how terrible. Rafe didn’t envy his cousin the road ahead.
The police arrived, and Jessica curled into a ball, crying that she’d done it all for her Noah.
“My kids.” Pain ripped through Noah’s words. “What am I going to tell my kids?”
While Noah and Rafe watched, the police tugged Jessica to her feet, then read her Miranda rights as they cuffed her.
“Noah! Don’t!” she begged. “Please! Please! Don’t let them do this to us! I love you, Noah. This is for us. Nothing will stand in your way.”
“Take her,” Rafe said to the officers.
