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“I went into foster care,” Winthrop said. “An elderly couple right here in Bluefern took me in. Stella was always kind to me, even though I was shy and more than a little nerdy. I’d do most anything for the Moon family and their friends.”
“We want to trap him in his lies,” Thad said. “And get it on video so there’s no refuting his guilt.”
“I see,” Winthrop said. “And how do you expect to do that without opening yourselves up to danger?”
“We were hoping you could help us with that,” Thad said. “Plus, we want everything on the up-and-up. I don’t want this man to get away because of anything we did or didn’t do.”
“Smart. Tell me what you’ve got,” Winthrop said.
We talked through our ideas, including the hidden cameras inside the motel room. “Unless you think that’s a bad idea?”
“As far as recording someone without their knowledge, I think I can get a last-minute search warrant,” Winthrop said.
“So fast?” I asked.
“A friend of mine’s a judge.” Winthrop said. “He trusts me that we have a good reason, or I wouldn’t have asked. But even with the warrant, we can nail him for sure if we have video of him hurting you, Sammie. But that means you must be willing to risk an altercation. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have to,” I said. “He wants to finish me off. This is the only way I can be free.”
“We’ll be right there to rescue you if it gets dangerous. My deputies can set up the cameras in the room that feed right into a surveillance van. We have ways to hide them behind paintings and such. That way it’s tight. You’ll have to provoke him the minute he arrives,” Winthrop said to me.
“I won’t need to,” I said. “He’ll come in hot. He always does. Anyway, just breathing sets him off, so it won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll have my deputies in plain clothes right outside the door,” Winthrop said.
“Make sure they know how to play the part,” I said. “John’s cruel, but he’s not stupid.”
“I’ll make sure,” Winthrop said.
“Thank you, Sheriff,” I said. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to have it all out in the open.” Especially now that I knew I wasn’t a murderer.
“Rest assured, Miss Scott, I’ll do anything I can to put scumbags like this in jail. You’re lucky you got away from him. It’s not often done without help from an agency of some kind.”
“It wasn’t what I’d call exactly legal.” Heat crept up my neck. “I paid a guy to come up with a new identity. I’ve been using a dead person’s Social Security number.”
“None of that matters to me,” Winthrop said. “All I want is for guys like him to be locked up. I’m so sick of these guys hurting women and getting away with it until they manage to kill them.”
“His family runs the town of Fremont, Tennessee,” Thad said, as a preface to telling him about John’s family. “He has a brother and a cousin on the police force. We’re pretty sure they’re running illegal operations of some kind. They even wrote a fake obit for their local paper—all in the hope that it would lure Sammie home.”
“Sure, he’s got a crooked family pulling the strings down there. But their machinations didn’t work,” Winthrop said. “He underestimated how smart and courageous you are, Sammie. So, we’re in business.”
“If we put John in jail,” I said, “his family’s still out there. They’ll want to punish me.”
“Is there anything you can do about the Underwoods?” Thad asked. “Because we don’t want them coming after Sammie.”
“Let me see what I can dig up. I’ll call my buddy in the FBI and see if they’re interested in looking into things. In the meantime, you might think about an anonymous tip to a reporter. One who specializes in investigative journalism. That’s another way to alert the FBI. No one should underestimate the power of words, right?”
“Will I be able to get a divorce if he’s convicted?” I asked. “And what about the illegal use of the social security number?”
“You’ll be able to divorce,” Winthrop said. “As far as the use of an illegal social security number, I think I can make a case that you’re cooperating with us. There may be a fine or public service but don’t worry. I’ll get you the best deal I can.”
After we hung up, I thought through everything the sheriff had said to us. Could this actually work? It was imperative that I play the part of scared wife when he arrived tomorrow. Not that it would be difficult to show fear. That would come naturally, as it had during the years of our marriage.
Still, after all these months of being away from him and his abuse, I’d grown accustomed to a pain-free existence. What if I’d grown weak during my time away?
What if they charged me with a felony? My stomach churned at the thought of it. But Winthrop had said he would do his best. For now, I had to assume he would take care of me.
“It might end. All of it,” I said. “Do I dare hope?”
