44

CASEY

I get back on I-20 when I’m far enough away from Shreveport, then I stop at an exit along the way to get a burger. I sit in the Wendy’s parking lot to eat and use their Wi-Fi signal to get on the Internet. I want to check the news and see what I can find about Hannah being released.

There are clips of her walking through the media with her attorney holding them back. I’m relieved, but still livid that my sister has had to go through that at all.

It’s all my fault. I never should have contacted her. I put her in a terrible position. What if they found the burner phone she’s been hiding? It would give them evidence that we’ve talked, and it might lead them to me. I take the battery out of the phone I’ve been using and break it. When I’m done here, I’ll toss the pieces into separate trash cans. I’ll use the one Dylan gave me instead.

While I’m online, I check the Dallas TV station’s site to see if they have anything else on Cole’s death.

I go back to the list of sites with recent stories about him and see that they’re all reporting his death. There’s a video of one of his cousins I’ve never met. “We’re asking police not to rule this a suicide. We just don’t think he did this on purpose.”

“He didn’t!” I yell. “The Trendalls . . .” I think back over my confrontation with those people. I shouldn’t have told them anything about Cole. But I told them he was suicidal, hoping they had consciences. Now I have a deep gut feeling that they used that information . . . set up his death and knew it would seem as if he’d gone through with suicide. And with Cole dead, there’ll be no one to fight the charges in their lawsuit, and Cole’s testimony about a molester named Fred will never be brought into court. Ava’s fate is sealed.

No, someone has to hold them accountable. Those tire tracks . . . If they match the Trendalls’. . . If there’s evidence on their van or truck . . . These people seem to be drug users. Surely they haven’t been that careful. They must have made mistakes. Maybe I can find the evidence and report them anonymously. For Ava’s sake, I have to at least try. How could good people be crushed this way?

I start the car, but before I drive out of the parking lot, I text Dylan. Change of plans. Have to get closer to Dallas. I’ll let you know where I wind up.