Page 25 of Travis
“I do understand, and I can’t help you.”
“Why?”
He didn’t respond to that question. “Go home. Report your Kindt data to your supervisor through official channels and let the Bureau process it. Walk away from the communication node. Walk away from the case.”
“Are you serious? You listened to everything I just said. You asked questions that told me you understood every piece of it. And your answer is to hand it to the people who’ve been ignoring me every time I’ve tried to tell them.”
“My answer is to get you away from this before the people you’ve been tracking figure out who was inside their system.”
He was telling me to walk away. From the case, from this room, from him. Just like everyone else.
So I would.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said. My voice belonged to someone else. Someone calm, measured, professionally gracious. The voice I’d perfected in Pratt’s office, the one that got me from the rejection back to my cubicle without breaking anything on the way. “And for the guest room. I appreciate your time. Sorry about the break in. I won’t bother you again.”
I stood up. Pushed the chair in. Walked out of the kitchen and back to the guest room and packed my bag with the same efficient movements I used to shut down my workstation at the end of every day. Toothbrush. Sleep clothes. The towels he’d given me, folded and placed by the sink. Thumb drive in the inside pocket. Inhaler in the side pouch.
Travis was in the hallway when I came out. He hadn’t moved from the kitchen doorway. His arms were crossed, and his faceheld something complicated that I didn’t have the energy or the right to interpret.
“Sera.”
I held out a hand. “No need to say anything further. You’ve been very clear. I wish you the best. Take care.”
I walked past him. Down the hallway, through the living room with its untouched couch and empty coffee table, through the front door I’d opened last night with his dead girlfriend’s name.
The morning air hit my face. I kept walking. Down the porch steps, around the house to where my car was parked by the utility door. Bag in the passenger seat. Key in the ignition. Engine on.
I pulled down the gravel driveway, through the gate that opened automatically on approach, and onto the county road.
I drove and didn’t look back.
