Page 55 of Blind Trust
Nicolás continued up the walk. “Maybe he burned too many bridges.”
“Doesn’t mean his wife and children aren’t devastated.” The unwilling victims.
Nicolás rang the bell. A dog barked from inside before the door was opened by an older woman with frizzy white hair escaping a messy chignon. She pulled her sweater tighter over her chest and eyed them suspiciously. “Yes?”
Nicolás removed his ball cap. “We’re looking for Tiffany Miller.”
“Why?” The woman’s eyes kept sweeping back to Lyla. “Who are you?”
“We’re with the SNAP Agency and—”
“It’s you.” Recognition lit the woman’s eyes with a fire. She pointed a finger at Lyla and stepped toward her. Nicolás blocked her advance with a single step. She looked him over before her hard gaze landed back on Lyla. “You’re the one who put my Jerry in jail.”
“Ma’am, you’re mistaken.” Nicolás’s tone was friendly but held an edge of warning. “Your Jerry put himself in jail. We’re only here to make sure his wife is doing okay after her accident.”
“She’s not here,” the woman snapped, taking a step backward. She wiped at her eyes, then wrapped her arms around her waist. Lyla saw the toll of her suffering. The frailty wearing her down, a helplessness to do anything except love her son the way only a mother can—unconditionally. “Tiffany took the kids and left.”
“Do you know where?”
“No,” Jerry’s mom answered Nicolás. “And I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”
She stepped back inside and started to shut the door, but Lyla stepped around Nicolás and put her hand on it. “What about Genevieve?”
The woman’s expression tightened for a few seconds before exhaustion drew her features downward. “I haven’t heard from Ginny since she called me a few days ago to say she couldn’t handle this and was leaving. Gone. Both of my kids and now my grandkids. Thanks to you.”
“Ma’am—”
Lyla put a hand on Nicolás’s arm, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. She gave it a gentle squeeze. Jerry’s mom was hurting, probably more than she was angry. Right now she wanted to blame someone, and Lyla would accept it.
“Mrs. Miller, I know you might not believe me, but I am truly sorry for what you’re going through. Thank you for your time.”
With a gentle tug, Lyla urged Nicolás back to his vehicle. Behind her she heard Jerry’s mom suck in a sob before closing the door. Lyla quickly got into the truck, feeling her own emotions building in her chest. It wasn’t fair. Jerry wasn’t the only one who had to pay for his crime. Crime was selfish. No matter what reason a criminal came up with—it was always self-serving.
18
Nic followed Lyla into the fulcrum, disappointed that Mrs. Miller’s misguided blame had had the power to ruin Lyla’s mood. And steal her smile. Even worse was the feeling that no matter how he tried to defuse the harmful words, it didn’t seem to help.
“We’re back, Kekoa!” Lyla called out as she shed her jacket and grabbed her new laptop. “We need to find Genevieve.”
“I’m on it, sis.” Kekoa joined them at the conference table. “Working with her cell service to see if we can get a last location for her.”
Nic sat. “Mrs. Miller said she left town.”
Lyla raised her brows. “Without her cell?”
“You said she was acting nervous, like she was being followed. Maybe she got a new one.”
“You’re right, Nicolás.” Lyla nodded. “Is there a way we can find that out?” She looked at Kekoa, whose mouth was slightly ajar, his confused gaze moving between her and Nic.
Nic sent his friend a look that he hoped warned him to let whatever immature thought he was having go. “Kekoa?”
“Sorry. I just got confused by Lyla’s admission that you were right.” Kekoa smiled. “But to answer your question, if Genevieve used a credit card, yes, but as of right now she hasn’t accessed her bank accounts or credit cards for the last two weeks.”
“Someone hiding would use cash for everything, right?”
“Yes,” Nic answered Lyla, and they shared the same expression.This is not looking good. “What about running her image through one of our CCTV programs like you did for Terrel’s nephew? If she went to an airport, train station, passed by a street camera or toll road, we could find her location.”
“I’m trying, but so far—bah. I got nothing.” Kekoa typed on his silicon keyboard. “But I do have this.” Once again the screens overhead filled with news articles, but this time they weren’t about Ammar El-Din. “That article yesterday made me curious, especially when I started fact-checking some of the information in it. I fell into a rabbit hole of government conspiracy, which was as funny as it was scary. But there were several like this one.” Kekoa highlighted an article: US RUNNINGWEAPONSFORMONOPOLYMONEY. “Aside from the clickbait title, this one mixes a bit of fact with theory surrounding the investigation of a man named Roger Colthorpe, a financial advisor in Florida, who confessed to being a gunrunner, smuggling guns out of America to Ireland for five years.”
