Page 32 of Blind Trust
His attention back on Lyla, Terrel rolled the toothpick between his lips. “He wanted you to know they’d killed him.”
“Who? Who killed him?”
“I don’t know, and I ain’t sticking around to find out.” This time Terrel slid his legs out from under the table and stood. “Shondra, come on, we’re leaving.”
“Wait.” Lyla stood. “Did Jerry tell you anything else? Mention an insurance policy or the flash drive?”
The frown lines cutting into Terrel’s forehead were his answer. “Honey, I already told you I don’t know nothing about no flash drive.” He helped Shondra put on her coat. “And the only insurance policies inmates carry are the ones that get ’em outta jail or ... keep ’em alive.” Terrel’s shoulders sank. “Looks like Jerry’s policy ran out.”
Lyla came around the table and Nic rose, putting himself within arm’s length of knocking Terrel out if he tried anything. “Who do you think killed Jerry?”
Through narrowed eyes, Terrel seemed to be checking out his surroundings. “No idea. Good thing too. I ain’t about to follow Jerry to the grave. Ain’t safe outside, ain’t even safe inside.”
Terrel ushered Shondra away from the group, leaving Nic andLyla standing out like sore thumbs among the bowlers, who appeared less friendly now.
“We can’t let him leave.”
“We’re not.” Nic pointed in the direction of the exit, where four police officers had just stepped through the door. “We should go and let them do their job.”
Nic escorted Lyla away from Terrel’s friends and out a side door he’d seen a couple of smokers use. Outside, Lyla gripped the collar of her coat against the cold October night, and Nic used his key fob to start his truck.
“How did the police know Terrel was here?”
“I sent his PO our location when we arrived.” Nic opened the door for her. “He sent the cops.”
“Okay, hear me out, Nicolás,” she started as soon as he got into the truck. “Genevieve told me she didn’t believe Jerry would kill himself, and now his cellmate, a man who could’ve lied but for whatever reason was like ‘yeah, I sent you the letters, what of it,’ and—”
Nic choked on a laugh.
Lyla’s eyes narrowed on him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He pulled out of the parking lot. “I was just admiring your spot-on impersonation.”
“Spot-on?” Lyla wrinkled her nose at him. “Spot-on. Is it spot-on, Nicolás?” she repeated in a British accent. “Are you watching those Victorian shows with Kekoa and Elinor too?”
“No.” Nic relaxed in his seat. Enjoying this brief respite of playfulness was like a balm to his frayed nerves. “I prefer Westerns.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” She giggled. “Anyway, what was I saying again?”
“That Terrel didn’t believe Jerry killed himself.”
“Right, and he was scared about something, which matches what Genevieve said, except he didn’t know why she gave me the flash drive or anything about an insurance policy.”
An unsettling revelation struck. “He wanted you to know theykilled him.” Nic’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he whispered Terrel’s words.
“What?”
“The letters are the insurance policy.” Nic stared at the road, the brake lights ahead of him flashing like the warning in his head. “When I was in SWAT, we were called to a scene where a guy had barricaded himself in his home with a bomb. He’d kidnapped a girl and was demanding a ransom, but when the FBI asked for proof of life, he couldn’t provide it because he’d already killed the girl.”
“That’s horrible.” Lyla shuddered. “But what does that have to do with Jerry sending me letters?”
“I think they might’ve been his proof of life. If we believe what Terrel and Genevieve are suggesting, then the insurance policy might not have been an actual monetary policy, but like Terrel said, one that keeps inmates alive.” He looked over at her. “The letters Jerry sent you may have been the insurance policy letting you know he was still alive.”
She wrinkled her face. “He couldn’t just send me a nice letter? ‘Hey, I’m alive! Hope you’re well. Thanks for putting me in jail. How ’bout them Yankees?’”
There was a slight waver to Lyla’s sarcasm that made Nic think all this was starting to affect her. “Maybe he couldn’t risk giving you details in the letter in case it got intercepted. He had Terrel write them for a reason. Someone could’ve been watching Jerry.”
“So why me? Why not let the FBI know? Send the letters to them? Or tell his lawyer?”
