Page 71 of Broken Bayou
Ermine grins over her shoulder at him. “I’ll take a flood.”
I tell Ermine thank you again and run into the rain to my car. Once inside, I shoot off a text and wait for the response. My phone dings almost immediately.
Let’s meet at Shadow Bluff.
It’s still raining when I open the door and invite Travis into the house, and I’m still wearing theFort Worth Livetee. The formal wardrobe in my bag feels like even more of a joke now. Travis shakes the rain from his hair as he steps inside. He’s not dressed in his usual uniform. He’s wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt and cowboy boots. His expression matches mine. Sad.
In the kitchen, I pour him a cup of coffee, and he accepts but doesn’t sit. He leans against the kitchen counter, and I stand next to him.
“I’m on administrative leave,” he says, staring into his coffee cup. “But only because Chief arranged it. Which is pointless really.” He meets my gaze. “I’m being fired, Willa. I’ve lost their trust. That’s a nail in the coffin for a cop.”
“Oh, Travis. I’m so sorry.” I had a feeling this would be the consequence, but hearing it from him is gut wrenching. “I never meant for that to happen. Please know, I would’ve kept your name out of it if I could’ve.”
“I know.”
“I feel awful.” I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away.
“Chief said if I’d have come forward at the beginning of this, he might could’ve saved my job. But I didn’t want to drag you into it.” I sigh and start to talk but he continues, “This is going to take a while for me to process. Being a cop is all I know. It’s everything to me. And now it’s gone. One stupid thing I did eighteen years ago, and it’s all gone.” He tries to look casual, but I see his jaw harden. “Why the hell did you have to call me that night?”
I know what he’s doing. He’s deflecting. It’s a natural response. He could have said no when I called that night or after he realized what I was asking of him, but he didn’t.
“I wish I hadn’t called,” I say.
“There’s something else we need to talk about.” He shifts on his feet. “I heard you stopped by my mother’s house yesterday.”
Shit. I start to reply, stop, and regroup. “I did. I just wanted to visit. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”
“Willa, didn’t I ask you to leave my brothers alone?”
I hug my arms across my chest. I’m sleep deprived and emotionally drained, and I don’t feel like a lecture. So I throw out a question to distract him. “How sure are you that Walter Delaroux is the right suspect?”
He shuts his eyes a moment. “What are you doing? Why are you harassing my family?”
“I’m not harassing anyone. I’m simply asking questions.”
“You a reporter now too?”
“I’m just looking for answers.”
“To what?”
“To whatever’s happening in this town.”
He sighs. “And you think I’m not looking for answers? To what’s happening inmytown? We—” He stops, takes a breath. “They have a suspect in custody. For a reason.”
I decide to switch gears on him, to the topic that won’t leave me alone. “Tell me about Emily.”
“What?”
“Your sister. I found a sketch of her in Mabry’s old sketchbook.”
“What does she have to do with this?”
“I don’t know. I’m just interested. I don’t really remember her. And you never talked about her much. How long was she ill?”
He studies his boots. “As long as I can remember.”
“Why was she ill? What did she have?”
