CASEY
Barbero and his wife, Marge, flew into Shreveport this morning and hired a wheelchair van. Now the plan is for us to meet them behind the mall. Dylan parks the rental we’re still driving and gets into the van behind me. We take the back seats, and Barbero keeps the van idling and turns his chair around. His mood is jubilant.
“So you’re the infamous Casey Cox,” he says. “Honestly, I knew there was something different about you.”
“You did not,” Marge says. “You never said a word.” She looks at me over her seat. “Don’t listen to him. He didn’t have a clue.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” I say. “But it’s all out now.”
“No disrespect,” Dylan says, “but she has to have a criminal attorney.”
“Of course she does,” Barbero says. “I’m not a fool. I’m just a litigator. I don’t know anything about criminal law. But she was right to call me. I’ll do the best I can for you, Liana, and I do appreciate the exposure.”
“Casey,” I correct again.
“Right, sorry.” He laughs with Marge, and I can see that they’re both enjoying this too much.
Dylan doesn’t seem amused. “So how is this going to work?”
“They have an arrest warrant out for Keegan,” Barbero says. “They tried catching him at the private airport last night and at his house. But he evaded authorities.”
“So you think he’s still in town?” Dylan asks.
“I think he’s probably wishing he were somewhere else. His face is all over the news now. He’s gotta be desperate.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” Dylan says. “We need guarantees about Casey’s safety.”
“Yours too,” I tell him, but he ignores me.
“Keegan wants her bad. We need specifics. Firewalls and barriers. She needs to surrender in a closed-off area. Nothing public.”
Barbero laughs again. “I’ll have her protected like the president of the USA.”
Again, Dylan doesn’t respond with a smile. “This is serious. If you can’t take it seriously, we will find another attorney.”
Barbero looks at me. “This fella’s a keeper.”
“That’s the truth,” Marge adds.
Barbero forces the smile from his face and gets his game face on. “I hear you, Dylan. I’m not gonna botch this. I don’t intend to leave here with egg on my face. And I like this girl. I don’t want her hurt.”
Dylan takes my hand, and I see the worry and fear in his eyes, but not for himself. Only for me.
“Dylan, I think it’s you he’ll come after first,” I say. “I’ll be guarded. You won’t. I want you to stay with us.”
“He can’t,” Barbero says, and looks at Dylan. “Chief Gates wants to see you ASAP in his office. Before she surrenders.”
“No!” I say. “Keegan is hoping for this. So are his friends.”
“This is way beyond you two being witnesses,” Barbero says. “He could kill you, but it wouldn’t help. The media has all the evidence, all the witnesses, all the roads leading a couple dozen directions. The DA being involved? That’s massive. No, they have to see that killing you won’t put an end to this.”
“But Keegan’s a psychopath,” Dylan says. “He doesn’t care if it puts an end to it. Neither of us will be safe until he and his coconspirators are caught. I have to find him.”
“No, you don’t,” I tell him. “Dylan, I don’t want you anywhere near him! The entire police force and the FBI are looking for him. It doesn’t have to be you.”
Dylan thinks about it for a moment, then he breaks my heart. “I’ll go see Chief Gates,” he says. “Then I’ll decide what to do next.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “You’re a stubborn man.”
He squeezes my hand. “I solve crimes, Casey. I’m good at it. I can find him.”
I press my thumbs against my tear ducts as the futility of all this overwhelms me. “Then will you try to convince Chief Gates to take care of my family? Hannah and her family and my mother all need to be moved to a safe location while Keegan is still out there.”
“If I still think Gates is with us after I meet with him, then I’ll use his resources to find them a safe house. If not, I’ll find them a place on my own.”
I hug him goodbye, knowing that in the next few minutes, everything is going to change. I may never touch him again. He kisses the top of my head, my forehead, my lips, and I melt in his kiss and pray that it won’t be the last one. It would seem so cruel to have him ripped from me that way, after I’ve discovered the joy of knowing him.
Dylan pulls back and wipes my tears. “We’re going to be together again,” he whispers. “It’ll be all right.”
I can’t speak, but I nod.
He slides his fingers down my arms, across my hands, to my fingertips. He lingers there a minute. Then he reaches for the door, breaking our connection, leaving me feeling untethered. Help me, Lord.
I watch him walk to his rental car. He gets in and looks back, lifts his hand in a wave. Then he drives away.
Barbero has locked himself back into place behind the steering wheel. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
As we drive, I pull a small mirror out of my purse and examine myself. I think of putting on some eye shadow or lip gloss, but then I realize that I’m not Grace Newland or Miranda Henley or Liana Winters. I’m Casey Cox.
It’s time for the real me.