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Jensen nodded. “Treven Rindlesbacher is the vilest scum I’ve ever met.”
“I agree.” She paused, then said, “I try to be Christian and not hate, but I hate him. What he’s done to me, to Sophie, to so many others…”
“I try not to let him have too much headspace either, but he and his family seem to be at the root of most problems in Augustine.”
They rode in silence for a few beats and then she asked, “Can you tell me more about what happened with him and Hattie Ballard?”
Jensen darted a gaze at her. “You’ve heard the media’s version?”
“Yes.”
He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “When Treven killed Jane Presley, he knocked Hattie Ballard out and thought he could frame an innocent female tourist for the murder.”
It sounded exactly like what Treven would do.
“Peter, my partner at the time, had a son who had been beaten near to death by Treven, and the jerk had never even served time for it. Peter was as straight and good as anyone I’d ever known. Honestly, I struggled with wiping a crime scene, but Peter convinced me the only option was to help Hattie escape from Augustine and wipe her prints off the knife, the body, and the crime scene. Luckily Treven didn’t know her name at the time, but he learned it later and became almost as obsessed with her as he was with Sophie and still is with you.”
Livvy shuddered. Poor Hattie Ballard.
“Then later, William killed Franz Wengreen and framed Hattie for it. That’s how Treven got released from prison.”
She’d heard some of that.
“Peter, Ray, and I acted quickly to fake Hattie’s death. Steffan got her out of Augustine. Thankfully the Rindlesbachers were finally exposed for the filth they are and Hattie and Steffan could return home.” He gripped the wheel, and the muscles in his arms popped. “I hate Treven and William for so many things—threatening you, hurting Sophie, killing and lying and manipulating to try to take the crown, and putting me in that situation, for making me compromise my principles. It cost me deeply as an idealistic young detective. But if I had to do it all over again, I’m sure I’d choose to protect an innocent woman.”
“You’re a great man, Jensen.”
“I wondered for a while. Doing the right thing doesn’t always feel or look like doing the right thing. Sometimes I feel like you can’t do the right thing without doing the wrong thing at the same time.”
Silence fell in the car. She could tell the ordeal had hurt Jensen deeply. He navigated out of the city, along the river, and toward the mountains. Even though he agreed about how awful Treven was, it was obvious he didn’t believe her that Treven had been there tonight. Livvy would be happy to be wrong about this, but she wasn’t. She knew Treven.
Chapter Nine
Livvy clasped her hands in her lap. Exhaustion should be pulling her lids closed but she was too full of anxiety about Treven coming after her again, adrenaline being this close to Jensen and frustration that he wouldn’t accept that Treven was roaming free.
A vehicle followed close behind them.
“Is that your people behind us?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She had no clue where the venerable chief lived. She was thrilled to have the chance to see his home, to stay close to him. Jensen revealing his concerns about Treven and what had happened with Princess Hattie made her feel closer to him. She could understand why he didn’t believe Treven had escaped and why he didn’t want to believe her—it would mean his prison was compromised or his people had been bought off by the Rindlesbachers. That family’s tentacles and financial means were deep and vast. She hoped the royal family and Jensen hadn’t relaxed with William dead. Naomi wouldn’t stop until everyone suffered and her beloved son seized the crown from King Nolan and Prince Tristan.
“As soon as I get you settled and assignments for my people to protect you, I’ll go to the prison myself. All right?” Jensen interrupted her stewing. He’d somehow known her mind was dwelling on that monster.
“All right,” she agreed. She had no idea how Treven could’ve escaped. All she knew was it was him that had come for her. Just as he’d always promised.
Treven’s coming.
And he’d keep coming.
She wrapped her arms around herself.
They pulled off the road and drove through thick trees. Stopping at a high gate, Jensen rolled down his window and typed in a code. The gate slowly swung open.
He pulled through, and the car followed him. They drove a hundred more yards, then a large rock and stucco house with thick timbered beams and columns decorating the front porch appeared. Livvy’s eyes widened. The house was recently built, over a hundred years newer than her little home. It was much different and larger than the typical Augustine villas and cottages built around the turn of the nineteenth century and updated throughout the years.
“This is your house?” she asked Jensen.
