Chapter 5 - The ChaseTravis reached his SUV before anyone expected him to move.
He slammed the door.
Engine roaring.
A federal agent jumped aside as the SUV punched through the temporary barricade.
Pierce shouted into his radio.
“Suspect fleeing southbound!”
State patrol vehicles moved.
Travis knew the county better.
He turned onto an unmarked ranch road.
Dust swallowed him.
Pierce looked at me.
“You’re staying here.”
I almost laughed.
“You really think he’s running?”
Pierce understood.
“He’s going somewhere.”
“Yes.”
Destroying evidence.
Or killing someone.
Rachel grabbed my arm.
“Ethan.”
That look again.
The promise.
I nodded.
“I stay.”
Pierce left.
Helicopters joined the search.
Roadblocks went up.
But Travis disappeared.
For six hours.
Then a deputy found his abandoned SUV near Blackwater Creek.
Keys inside.
Blood on the steering wheel.
No body.
The sheriff had gone into the mountains.
Or wanted everyone to think he had.
Rachel and I returned to federal protection.
By evening, Agent Pierce walked into our temporary motel room carrying a laptop.
“We finally identified B.R.”
Rachel sat forward.
“Who?”
He turned the screen.
A photograph appeared.
Judge Benjamin Rourke.
Senior district judge.
Sixty-three.
Thirty-five years in Montana politics.
He had signed dozens of search warrants requested by Travis.
Dismissed complaints against deputies.
Approved sealed property seizures.
Rachel whispered.
“He’s the one protecting them.”
Pierce nodded.
“More than protecting.”
Financial records showed Rourke received millions through shell companies.
He was the architect.
Travis was enforcement.
Brennan handled property deals.
Rourke made everything legal on paper.
“And Caleb found all of it,” I said.
“Yes.”
Pierce pulled up phone records.
The night Caleb vanished, Travis called Rourke seven times.
Vickers called him twice.
Commissioner Brennan once.
Then all communication stopped.
Rachel looked toward Pierce.
“Where is Rourke?”
“Courthouse.”
“Still?”
“Technically, we don’t have enough for arrest.”
I stared.
“You’ve got financial transfers.”
“Circumstantial.”
“He signed illegal warrants.”
“Potential misconduct.”
“Caleb’s murder?”
“No direct link.”
Rourke was insulated.
Smart.
He never touched violence himself.
Then Grant called.
Urgent.
He found another audio file hidden inside an image.
Caleb had embedded it deliberately.
We listened.
Judge Rourke’s voice.
“If Dunn won’t cooperate, make the problem permanent.”
Travis answered.
“What about the family?”
Rourke:
“People grieve. Eventually they stop asking questions.”
Nobody moved.
Pierce replayed it.
Then stood.
“That’s enough.”
Federal agents moved toward the courthouse.
They arrived twelve minutes too late.
Rourke was gone.
His clerk said he left through a private entrance.
Now two fugitives were loose.
Then Rachel’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Pierce signaled for everyone to remain quiet.
Rachel answered on speaker.
“Hello?”
Breathing.
Then Travis.
“Mrs. Mercer.”
My entire body went still.
Rachel looked at me.
“What do you want?”
“Your husband ruined everything.”
“No. You did that yourself.”
He laughed.
“You sound brave.”
“I don’t need to be brave.”
“Everyone does eventually.”
Pierce began tracing.
Travis continued.
“You know what your husband doesn’t understand?”
“What?”
“This town wanted me.”
“You terrorized them.”
“I gave them order.”
“You stole from them.”
“People like Ethan always think rules matter more than stability.”
I watched Pierce’s technician.
Thirty seconds.
Need more time.
Rachel understood too.
“So why call me?”
Travis paused.
“To offer a trade.”
“What trade?”
“The drive for something you want.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“What could you possibly have?”
A voice came through the phone.
Weak.
“Rachel?”
She gasped.
I recognized it.
Caleb’s mother.
Linda Dunn.
Travis had her.
Rachel whispered.
“You touch her—”
“Come alone.”
Pierce shook his head violently.
Travis gave coordinates.
Old sawmill north of Clearwater Ridge.
“One hour.”
The line disconnected.
Pierce cursed.
Trace incomplete.
Rachel stood.
“I’m going.”
“No,” I said.
She looked at me.
“He has Linda.”
“And he’ll kill you too.”
“So what do we do?”
I thought.
Then smiled.
“We give him exactly what he asked for.”
One hour later Rachel drove toward the sawmill alone.
At least that was what Travis saw.
She carried a flash drive.
Real casing.
Fake files.
Pierce’s team surrounded the area from nearly a mile out.
I was farther back.
By agreement.
Because Travis knew me.
He would anticipate military tactics.
He would look for me.
So Pierce used ranchers.
Local volunteers.
Men Travis ignored.
Women he underestimated.
The entire community was quietly helping.
That was something Travis never understood.
Fear looks like loyalty until people stop being afraid.
Rachel entered the sawmill.
Travis waited inside.
Linda sat tied to a chair.
Alive.
Judge Rourke stood nearby holding a pistol.
Rachel stopped.
“You said trade.”
Travis smiled.
“Drive.”
“Linda first.”
Rourke laughed.
“You’re negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t understand the position you’re in.”
Rachel looked directly at him.
“I understand it perfectly.”
She raised the drive.
“This contains enough financial evidence to put you away forever.”
Rourke’s face hardened.
“Give it to me.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Linda.”
Travis untied Linda.
Pulled her upright.
Then shoved her forward.
Rachel caught her.
“Go.”
Linda stumbled toward the door.
Travis extended his hand.
“Drive.”
Rachel tossed it.
He caught it.
Rourke smiled.
Then pressed his gun against Rachel’s stomach.
“Problem solved.”
My earpiece crackled.
Pierce:
“Hold.”
I clenched my fists.
Inside the sawmill, Rachel stared at Rourke.
“You forgot something.”
“What?”
“That isn’t the only copy.”
Rourke’s smile vanished.
“And everyone in America is going to hear Caleb’s recording.”
Outside, vehicles suddenly approached from every direction.
Not police.
Locals.
Dozens.
Pickup trucks.
Headlights flooding the sawmill.
Rourke looked through the broken windows.
“What the hell?”
Rachel smiled.
“The town you thought belonged to you.”
Travis pulled his weapon.
“Back off!”
Pierce’s voice boomed through loudspeakers.
“Federal agents! Drop your weapons!”
Rourke panicked.
Travis didn’t.
He grabbed Rachel.
Pulled her against him.
Gun to her head.
Then he shouted the words I’d been waiting to hear.
“Mercer!”
I stepped into view.
Travis smiled.
“I knew you’d come.”
Of course I came.
But this time I wasn’t the man covered in milkshake.
And Travis wasn’t standing in a diner surrounded by frightened witnesses.
May you like
Now the entire county was watching him.
And everybody finally knew exactly what he was.
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