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“I am not a mistake, damn it. I am a survivor. I should have drowned and I didn’t. I should have been shot down out of that tree, but I wasn’t. I should be lying in the morgue with my throat cut, but I’m not. So get me out of here and go find him. I do not intend to live the rest of my life, however long that may be, hiding from a madman.”
The men blinked.
Then Tate smiled.
“There’s the woman I remember. Chief, again, we appreciate your help. We’ll go out the back way and hopefully miss the news crews.”
“Where are you going? You’re not leaving town are you?”
“We’re staying in one of the empty rentals at the trailer park,” Tate said.
Beaudry frowned. “I hope it’s not the deluxe trailer. It’s haunted.”
Nola rolled her eyes, as if to say, I told you so.
Wade cursed beneath his breath.
Beaudry shuddered. “Better you than me. Anyway, if you need me, you know how to get in touch. And, Nola, take care of yourself, honey.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
“I’ll drive the car around back,” Wade said.
“I’ll let you out the door we use when we load up prisoners for transport,” Beaudry said.
A short while later they were in the SUV and headed to the trailer park. As they drove, Tate was trying not to think of what was happening to his mother’s body and forced himself to look ahead to the rest of the day.
“When we get settled,” he said, “I want you two to go out to the gym, make sure everything is okay again, express our apologies to Laura Doyle and, without making a big deal of it, find out if any of her regular workers failed to come in this morning.”
“You’re still thinking it could be one of them?” Nola asked.
“It’s our best guess,” Tate said. “If there’s anyone who failed to show up this morning, we’ll make a personal call on him and see what shakes out.”
He stopped at Eats long enough for Cameron to go inside and pick them up some breakfast sandwiches, then they took the back roads through town to get to the trailer park.
Jonesy was standing on the porch of their rental waiting for them when they drove up.
“That’s a nice-looking trailer,” Cameron said.
“Well, it is the deluxe model,” Nola reminded him, and then grinned.
Wade glared. “This isn’t funny.”
“Actually, it is,” she said.
“If it’s really haunted, you won’t be laughing,” he said.
Tate frowned. “Enough. You guys get the stuff. I’m going to get Nola inside as quickly as possible. The fewer people who know where she is, the better.”
“Right,” Cameron said, and he and Wade started gathering up their things as Tate walked Nola up the steps.
“Hi, Jonesy,” Nola said.
“Hey, sugar. Sorry about your troubles, but you can rest easy here. This is a really nice trailer. It’s the deluxe model, you know.”
Nola grinned. “Yes, we know. You remember Tate Benton, don’t you?”
Jonesy grinned. “I’ll say I do. You turned into a fine-looking man, and you’re an agent with the FBI now, huh? That’s really something.”