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I blew Travis a fake kiss, feeling a little guilty that I was actually enjoying my theatrics, got in my car and arrived home in time for the 11:00 news. I couldn’t wait to hear the story about Eddie announcing that he chose to retire rather than contest the election. This would tell me the wheels were in motion. I wanted so badly to contact the FBI but remembered the special agent’s strict orders to maintain distance. This was real life American Greed, and I was the heroine.
I turned on the television just in time for the nighttime report, except the news wasn’t about Eddie Carter. The footage showed a dump truck traversing up the driveway in a nice suburban neighborhood. I immediately recognized it has Travis’ house.
This is Emily Blunt from News 9 reporting live on the east side of town at the home of real estate investor Travis Trammel. At ten o’clock p.m. this evening, the Federal Bureau of Investigation descended upon the back yard of Mr. Trammell with a dump truck and jackhammer. We have been asked to maintain distance, but from our view, it appears they have broken into the sunroom, removed Mr. Trammell’s extraordinarily large hot tub and have been using the jackhammer to break up the concrete slab foundation. The dump truck, as you can see behind me, is apparently being utilized to haul away the concrete. A Bobcat is also being utilized to for what, we have not been able at this time to determine. Travis Trammel was not at home when the bureau arrived and his whereabouts are unknown at this time. We’ll stay with this story and apprise you as the details unfold. Emily Blunt, WLHI News 9, back to you Jeremy.
I turned off the TV, ran with my phone to my bedroom, and curled up under the covers. I had to try and think like Travis. If he heard the news story, he’d likely immediately return to my house with one of two motives. He’d either blame me for the unfolding events or come to me for comfort. In either situation, I knew there was no doubt I had to cut all ties. If he came to the door seeking vengeance, I was in more danger than when I’d laid under his guns. If he came for comfort, and I didn’t open the door to him, he’d then think that I had reported him. Travis wasn’t always smart and wasn’t always logical, so I simply couldn’t conjecture. Not being able to predict his next move left me lonely and vulnerable.
Given Travis’ routine for walking into garages as their door opened, I couldn’t get in my car and leave. I felt like a duck in the middle of a pond, quietly swimming on calm water, yet fearfully on guard. I turned on all the lights inside and outside the house and laid in wait. If Travis were to return, I wouldn’t open the door, but call 911. I felt a little stronger knowing I at least had a plan.
I laid cocooned under the covers on my back staring up at the ceiling fan for ten minutes when I was startled by my ringing phone. It was my mother. Her timing was impeccable. If I didn’t answer, she’d worry, so I chose to take the call and make every effort to sound normal.
“Hello, mother. You’re calling a little late, aren’t you? Is everything okay?”
“Oh darling, didn’t you hear? I was calling to see if you were okay.”
“Of course. I’m just fine. What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”
“You didn’t hear?” she said, “Your boyfriend, the handsome one, Travis, the FBI has descended upon his home.”
She quoted the news report almost verbatim. Descended. I imagined paratroopers with red parachutes and black ninja costumes floating from the air and magically landing amongst the trees.
“Yes, mom. I did see it on the news this evening. He isn’t my boyfriend anymore. We haven’t dated for a while now. Did I forget to tell you? By the way, how would you know about the news here when you’re in Florida?” Surely this hadn’t made national news.
“I have a WLHI app on that handy tablet you gave me last Christmas. Every night before I go to bed, I catch up on the home news. I may have moved away, but I’m still a Hoosier at heart,” she said.
“Well, as I said, I’m just fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Tomorrow isn’t so good. I’m headed down to Naples for a wine festival. We’ll catch up soon though. Love you dear. Do take care.”
“Good night mother,” I replied before clicking off the phone. In true fashion, my mom did make an effort to think of me, but certainly showed her limitations. She hadn’t put two and two together that Travis had likely committed an egregious crime and was not to be found. She did her job by checking on me and then ensured I couldn’t reach her tomorrow. My guess was she had a new boyfriend. Good for her.
The phone rang again and again I jumped. This time, it was an Indianapolis phone number. Who would be calling me from Indianapolis at 11:30 at night, I wondered. I stared at the phone while it rang my hand. After three rings, I picked it up.
“Hello,” I answered as if it was 9:00 in the morning and my dear friend was asking me for coffee, pretending it wasn’t late in the night and my ex-boyfriend was on the loose.
“Chloe?” I recognized the voice. It was the FBI agent.
“Yes. Hello.” I didn’t pretend not to know who it was.
He didn’t pretend either. “He’s in custody.”
My hands began shaking. I had to grip the phone with both hands to keep from dropping it. Weeping overcame me. I wept for love gone bad; I wept for anger; I wept in grief; I wept from relief. It was over.
“I thought you weren’t going to call me,” I said.
“You’re in that house alone and I know you must be terrified.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“Mr. Trammel has been under surveillance for some time now. He parked in your drive and remained there for about two hours waiting from you to return from your date,” he began.
“How did you know I had a date?”
“You were under protection. I’ll say no more. We don’t usually indulge background information, but in this case, knowing you might not have felt safe, I am authorized to do so. Would you like for me to continue or should we end the call now and say goodnight?”
“Please go on sir,” I said, thinking it best to take a respectful tone.
“The warrant to search his home was issued this afternoon. We had enough evidence to search the bedroom, including the safe, and the area under the hot tub. We had planned on taking him to the precinct for an interrogation when we went to the home. We knew he’d lawyer up, but we also knew the time we spent with him at the precinct would buy us time to search his home uninterrupted. You, Chloe, having a drink with him, changed the course completely.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. Your conversation in the bar helped our case.”
“How do you know about our conversation? There were only a few other couples there.”
“Did you notice the couple that came in and sat in the booth behind you and Travis?” he asked.
“No,” I responded honestly, “I had no idea someone was sitting near us. The booth backs were high, but I thought I’d been paying attention.”
“We’re that good,” he said. I could tell he enjoyed saying that. He was overworked and underpaid and if self-gratification was his only reward, I was fine with that.
“Yes, sir, you apparently are,” I agreed.
“Thank you. Now back to the story. His usual pattern was to drive to the gym right after work and then return home at about 7:00 p.m. Tonight, however, he went to the gym as predicted, but then grabbed a bite to eat at a drive-thru restaurant, drove around for a while with no particular planned destination, and then parked in your driveway at approximately 8:00 p.m. He sat in his car for two hours, with the exception of exiting the vehicle three times to knock on your door. He never rang the doorbell. He’s a pounder Chloe. He pounded.”
“Why didn’t you just take him in then?”
“Your report is confidential. We didn’t want him to associate this warrant or arrest with you in any way. Taking him into custody in your driveway may have caused him to suspect perhaps you were the person who tipped off the bureau. He’s not a smart man, Chloe, and sometimes makes dissociative notions. Have you noticed that?”
“Yes, I certainly have,” I responded.
“We knew you were enjoying a movie, so found this as a great opportunity to enact the search warrant. We didn’t utilize dispatchers whose radio exchanges would have been tracked by the news stations, so we were able to move in quickly and get started without interruption. Sitting in your driveway, he would have been completely unaware of the action around his hot tub. The only way he’d know is if a neighbor were to call him. Given our experience, when neighbors see men with FBI written on the backs of their jackets, they usually, with the exception of peaking out their windows through the slats in their blinds, mind their own business. We were able to jackhammer the concrete for a solid hour before the news teams were aware. By then, we had cordoned off the area so that we could continue our work uninterrupted and keep them at a distance. As stated previously, though, we certainly hadn’t planned on you enjoying a final drink with your ex-boyfriend. That, however, proved serendipitous for all.”
“What happened next?” I said, curious to relive my last moments with Travis from a third person point of view.
“The conversation with Travis was recorded and your performance was stellar,” he continued. “You gave us enough additional evidence to ensure Travis Trammel receives his just rewards. You’re one strong lady to sit with that man and have such composure.”
“I’m not so tough, sir. I’m worried about Travis when he gets out on bond and have no doubt he will seek me for solace.”
“He’s not getting out on bond,” he replied.
“And how do you know this?”
“We have more friends than Travis. That’s all I can say. You are safe. That’s why I called. Now get a good night’s sleep. Your journey through hell is over. We’ll likely not speak again, so I do wish you the best. Goodbye Chloe.”
“Goodbye, sir,” I replied as I clicked off the phone.
Despite the good wishes of the FBI, I knew I wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep. I felt as if I’d just traipsed through an open plain in a war zone and was mentally exhausted. I was grateful for an entire weekend to seek the comfort of the confines of my comfy home. I turned out the lights, went to bed and rested my body, if not my mind.