Travis drove back to the sheriff's substation with Rebecca Hale following in her own car.
He obeyed every speed limit.
That required conscious effort.
A forged signature changed the shape of the problem.
Until that call, Travis could still imagine Bethany making reckless decisions in the collapse of a marriage. Moving Kurt in was betrayal. Withdrawing Kaylee without telling him was frightening. Lying about a relocation was worse.
Forgery suggested preparation.
Somebody had expected Travis to return and challenge what he found.
Miller met them in an interview room.
A photocopy lay on the table.
Hale stopped Travis before he touched it.
"Read first."
He did.
RESIDENTIAL LEASE AGREEMENT.
The property address was correct.
Kurt's full name appeared as tenant.
The term was twelve months.
The rent was absurdly low.
At the bottom appeared a signature that looked, at first glance, like Travis's.
His stomach tightened.
"That's pretty good," he said.
Miller nodded.
"You didn't sign it?"
"No."
Hale studied the page.
"Don't say anything else about handwriting yet."
Travis looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because 'looks like mine' and 'is mine' are different statements."
She turned the photocopy toward the window.
"Where's the original?"
"Kurt has it."
"Of course."
Miller sat across from them.
"He says Sergeant Hale—"
"Travis," Hale corrected. "I'm Hale."
Miller grimaced.
"Long morning."
"Apparently."
"He says Travis leased him the house before leaving."
"When?"
Miller pointed.
Travis read the date.
His anger abruptly disappeared.
Not faded.
Disappeared.
He stared at the line.
Then he laughed once.
Miller frowned.
"Something funny?"
"Yeah."
Hale followed his finger.
The lease was dated during a period when Travis had been physically at Fort Sill.
That alone did not prove much. Documents could be signed remotely.
But Travis remembered that particular date.
"I was in the field."
Miller waited.
"No phone. No personal computer. Nothing."
"Can you prove it?"
Travis looked at him.
"I'm Army."
Hale understood first.
"Records."
"Everything."
Miller leaned forward.
"Would there be proof you couldn't have signed this?"
"There'll be duty records proving where I was."
Hale tapped the page.
"Still not enough by itself. He could claim it was prepared earlier."
Travis nodded.
Then something else caught his attention.
The signature.
He leaned closer.
His first name had a long tail on the final letter.
Travis did sometimes sign that way.
But not on legal documents.
His father had trained that habit out of him when he bought the house.
Formal documents got his full middle initial.
Always.
This one did not.
Hale noticed where he was looking.
"What?"
"My middle initial."
"Missing?"
"Yes."
"Do you always use it?"
"On legal paperwork."
"Always is a dangerous word."
"My father will have twenty years of examples."
Miller sat back.
"So you think it's forged."
"I know I didn't sign it."
That was the answer Hale wanted.
She nodded once.
"Good."
Miller explained that Kurt's complaint had created its own problem. Kurt claimed he was legally occupying the property and that Travis's appearances constituted intimidation.
"Did he mention Bethany?" Travis asked.
"Yes."
"As what?"
Miller consulted his notes.
"Property manager."
Travis looked at Hale.
She looked equally puzzled.
"Property manager?" she repeated.
"That's what he said."
"Not wife?"
"He knows she's married."
"Did he say Travis authorized her?"
"Claims the lease proves it."
Hale requested a copy.
Miller provided one.
Travis's phone vibrated.
Bethany.
He showed Hale.
"Answer."
Travis put the phone to his ear.
"Hello."
"Where are you?"
"Why?"
"Just answer."
"With my attorney."
Silence.
Then Bethany whispered something Travis could not understand.
"What?"
"Did Kurt go to the police?"
Travis looked at Miller.
"Yes."
Bethany inhaled sharply.
"What did he give them?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
"Travis."
"The lease?"
Nothing.
"You know about it."
"I can explain."
"Good."
"Not there."
"Where?"
"Do you remember the fishing access past Mill Creek?"
"Yes."
"Twenty minutes."
Hale shook her head.
Travis understood.
"Public place."
"No."
"Bethany."
"He checks."
Travis stopped breathing for a beat.
"Checks what?"
"My car."
Miller was watching him now.
"So leave it."
"I can't."
"Bethany, are you in danger?"
"No."
Again, too fast.
"Is Kaylee?"
"No."
"Where is she right now?"
"Melissa's."
"Give me the address."
"I will."
Travis stood.
Hale silently mouthed: public.
"Meet me at the diner on Range Line."
"No."
"Police station."
"Absolutely not."
"Then somewhere with people."
Bethany's voice became thin.
"You don't understand."
"You're right. I don't."
A long silence.
Finally:
"Old laundromat by the interstate."
Travis knew it. Glass frontage. Twenty-four hours. Cameras.
"Thirty minutes."
"Come alone."
He looked at Hale.
"No."
"Travis."
"My attorney comes."
"Then I'm not coming."
"Bethany—"
The call disconnected.
Travis lowered the phone.
Miller scratched his jaw.
"That sounded healthy."
Hale ignored him.
"She's frightened."
"Of Kurt?"
"Possibly."
"Then why leave our daughter with Melissa?"
"You're assuming the fear and the child are connected."
Travis hated how lawyers could turn one frightening possibility into six.
"What do we do?"
"We don't improvise."
Hale asked Miller whether a deputy could be nearby without appearing to escort Travis.
Miller hesitated.
"This isn't a sting operation."
"No. It's a potentially frightened woman asking to meet her husband away from a man who may have presented forged paperwork."
That phrasing worked better.
Miller agreed to have a unit in the area.
Hale insisted she would come but remain out of sight unless needed.
Thirty-two minutes later, Travis parked outside the laundromat.
Rows of fluorescent lights glowed behind the windows.
Only two customers were inside: an elderly man reading a newspaper beside the dryers and a woman loading children's clothes into a washer.
Travis chose a plastic chair facing the door.
He waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
At twelve minutes, Bethany's sedan appeared.
She parked far from the entrance.
Bethany entered carrying a purse pressed against her side.
She looked thinner than Travis remembered.
She sat opposite him.
Neither spoke immediately.
Washers churned behind them.
Finally Travis said, "Where's Kaylee?"
Bethany pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse.
She slid it across the small table.
An address near Joplin.
"Melissa?"
Bethany nodded.
"Thank you."
Travis photographed it and sent it to Hale.
Bethany flinched.
"Who did you send that to?"
"My lawyer."
"You promised—"
"I promised nothing."
Her hands shook.
Travis lowered his voice.
"Tell me about the lease."
Bethany stared at a spinning dryer.
"I signed your name."
There it was.
Travis had expected the answer.
Hearing it still hurt.
"Why?"
"Kurt said it didn't matter."
"Why?"
"He said because we were married, I could handle the property while you were gone."
"Why did Kurt need a lease?"
Bethany swallowed.
"He said he needed proof of residence."
"For what?"
"Work."
"What work?"
"I don't know."
"Bethany."
"I don't know."
Travis watched her.
"You moved a man into my house and signed my name onto a twelve-month lease without knowing why he needed it?"
Her eyes flashed.
"It wasn't like that at first."
"Then what was it like?"
"He helped me."
"With what?"
"Everything."
Travis waited.
Bethany rubbed both hands over her face.
"You were gone. Kaylee kept getting sick. The water heater failed. I missed work. Then the car transmission went. Every time I called you, you were busy or couldn't leave."
Travis remembered those calls.
He remembered sending money.
He also remembered assuming money solved what his absence created.
"Kurt was around," she continued. "He fixed things. Picked up groceries. Watched Kaylee once when I couldn't get out of work."
Travis's jaw tightened.
"Did he hurt her?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
That answer came without hesitation.
Travis believed it more than the others.
"When did the affair start?"
Bethany looked away.
"Does it matter?"
"Not today."
That surprised her.
He continued.
"Why did you withdraw Kaylee?"
"Kurt said if we were separating, we needed a clean break."
"Kurt said."
"I know how it sounds."
"Do you?"
She looked at him sharply.
"I screwed up, Travis."
"That's one description."
"I thought you weren't coming back."
"I told you the date."
"You changed dates before."
"By days."
"I know."
"Not forever."
"I know."
Her voice cracked.
Travis resisted the instinct to comfort her.
"Why did you tell the daycare we were moving?"
"Because I didn't want questions."
"Why Joplin?"
"Melissa."
"Why send Kaylee there?"
Bethany stared at him.
"Because Kurt wanted her gone."
The machines behind Travis seemed suddenly louder.
"Why?"
"He said we needed time alone."
"That's not an answer."
"I know."
"Why did you agree?"
Bethany's eyes filled.
"Because by then I was scared to disagree."
Travis leaned forward.
"Did he threaten you?"
"Not exactly."
"What exactly?"
"He started controlling things."
"Money?"
"Some."
"Phone?"
"Sometimes."
"Car?"
"He tracks the mileage."
Travis remembered the call.
He checks.
"Has he hit you?"
"No."
"Kaylee?"
"No."
"Threatened either of you?"
Bethany hesitated.
That was enough.
"What did he say?"
"He said if I made trouble, he'd make sure you found out everything in the worst possible way."
Travis almost laughed from disbelief.
"I came home and found him wearing my bathrobe."
"I know."
"How much worse was he planning?"
Bethany gave a broken half-smile that disappeared immediately.
Then her expression changed.
She was looking through the front windows.
Travis followed her gaze.
The black Ram had entered the parking lot.
Bethany went white.
"How did he find you?"
"I don't know."
The Ram stopped behind Bethany's sedan, blocking it in.
Kurt stepped out.
He was dressed now.
Jeans. Boots. Dark T-shirt.
No robe.
His expression was nothing like the provocative confidence Travis had seen on the porch.
This was colder.
Bethany stood.
"Don't."
Travis remained seated.
"Sit down."
"He's going to lose it."
"Sit."
Kurt crossed the parking lot.
Travis saw Hale's car at the far end of the service road.
He also saw another vehicle pull slowly from behind the gas station.
Miller had kept his word.
Kurt entered.
The bell above the laundromat door gave a ridiculous cheerful jingle.
The elderly man lowered his newspaper.
Kurt stopped several feet from the table.
"Beth."
She said nothing.
"I've been calling."
"My phone's off."
"I noticed."
Kurt looked at Travis.
"You just can't leave things alone."
Travis's voice stayed level.
"Apparently not."
"You think bringing lawyers and cops into this helps?"
"I didn't forge a lease."
Kurt's eyes shifted toward Bethany.
"You told him?"
She folded her arms tightly.
"Yes."
Something ugly passed across Kurt's face.
Travis saw it.
So did the woman at the washing machine.
Kurt stepped toward Bethany.
Travis rose.
He did not move forward.
He simply stood.
Kurt stopped.
For several seconds they faced each other.
Then Travis asked the question that had been bothering him since Miller's phone call.
"If Bethany forged my signature, why did you take the lease to the sheriff?"
Kurt's expression changed.
Tiny.
But enough.
Travis continued.
"You knew it wasn't mine."
"No."
"You knew."
"Prove it."
That answer came automatically.
Not I didn't know.
Prove it.
Travis heard the difference.
So did Hale, apparently, because she emerged from her car outside.
Kurt saw her.
Then he noticed the deputy's vehicle approaching from the service road.
His confidence fractured.
He turned toward Bethany.
"You planned this."
Bethany backed away.
Kurt reached for her arm.
Travis moved.
He never got the chance to touch him.
The laundromat door opened behind Kurt.
"Hands where I can see them," Miller said.
Kurt froze.
His fingers were inches from Bethany's sleeve.
Miller did not draw his weapon.
He did not need to.
"Step away."
Kurt obeyed.
Bethany started crying silently.
Not dramatically. No sobs.
Tears simply ran down her face while she stared at the floor.
Miller positioned himself between them.
Hale entered and walked directly to Travis.
"Don't speak to him."
Travis nodded.
Kurt pointed toward Bethany.
"She's lying."
Hale said quietly, "Travis."
He remained silent.
"She signed it," Kurt continued. "Ask her."
Nobody answered.
"I didn't force her."
Miller told him again to step back.
Kurt looked around the laundromat and finally seemed to understand that every person there had witnessed his entrance.
He gave Bethany one last stare.
Then he left under Miller's watch.
Travis remained where he was.
His hands were shaking now.
Bethany noticed.
"I've never seen your hands shake."
"Long drive."
It was a poor joke.
Neither smiled.
Hale touched Travis's shoulder.
"We need to go."
Travis looked at Bethany.
"Come with us."
"I can't."
"Why?"
She wiped her face.
"Because there's something else."
Travis felt dread settle into him.
"What?"
Bethany opened her purse again.
This time she removed an envelope.
She handed it to him.
Inside was a photocopy of another document.
Travis read the first line.
His own name appeared again.
So did Kaylee's.
He looked up.
"What is this?"
Bethany could barely meet his eyes.
"Kurt had me sign more than the lease."
Travis lowered his gaze to the document.
Whatever he had believed he was fighting when he reached Missouri—the house, the marriage, even access to Kaylee—had just become secondary.
Because beneath his forged signature was a declaration concerning his daughter.
And unlike the lease, this one had already been filed.
Click here to continue reading: PART 5: The Filed Declaration Did Not Take Kaylee Away, but One Carefully Chosen Sentence Revealed Exactly What Kurt Had Been Trying to Build
After Nineteen Hours on the Road, Travis Found Another Man Wearing His Robe and Answering His Front Door
Part 4 of 28
