The Last Thing He Told Me

“Shocking,” I say.

“It wasn’t typical, but I did understand why he wanted to go another route. Why he disappeared with Bailey. No one knew where they were going. No one else in the Marshals Service knew. We made sure there wasn’t a line that would lead to him.”

Grady flew halfway across the country to check on Owen—to check on his family, to help Owen out of this mess.

“Except you, you mean,” I say.

“He trusted me,” he says. “Maybe because I was new here then. Maybe I earned it. You’ll have to ask him why.”

“Can’t really ask him much of anything at the moment,” I say.

Grady walks over to the windows, leans against them. Maybe it’s because I’m looking for it, but I see something in his eyes, something like sympathy.

“Owen and I don’t talk a whole lot,” he says. “For the most part, he’s just been living his life. I think the last time he reached out was when he told me he was marrying you.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that you were a game changer,” he says. “He said he’d never been in love like that before.”

I close my eyes against it, how deeply I feel that, and how deeply I feel the same.

“Truth is, I tried to talk him out of pursuing anything with you,” Grady says. “I told him his feelings would pass.”

“Well thank you for that.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me about walking away,” he says. “But he did take my advice, apparently, when I told him he couldn’t tell you about his past. That it was too dangerous for you. That if he really wanted to be with you, he needed to leave his past out of it.”

I think of the two of us in bed, Owen struggling with whether to tell me—Owen wanting to tell me the entire truth of his past. Maybe Grady’s warning stopped him. Maybe Grady’s warning stopped Owen and me from being in a position to handle this together.

“Is this your way of telling me I should blame you instead of him?” I say. “Because I’m happy to do that.”

“This is my way of telling you we all have secrets we don’t share,” he says. “Kind of like your lawyer friend Jake? He told me that you guys were engaged once upon a time.”

“That’s not a secret,” I say. “Owen knew all about Jake.”

“And how do you think he’d feel about you involving him in this?” he says.

I was running out of choices, I want to say. But I know it’s a fool’s errand to argue with him. Grady is intent on putting me on the defensive, as if that will make it easier for him to pry something out of me—not exactly a secret, more like my will. My will to do anything but listen to what he thinks we should do now.

“Why did Owen run, Grady?” I ask.

“He had to,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“How many photographs have you seen of Avett in the news this week? The media would be all over Owen too. His picture would be everywhere and they’d find him again. Nicholas’s employers. Even though he looks different than he did, he doesn’t look that different. He couldn’t risk that kind of exposure. He had to get out of there before that happened,” he says. “Before he blew up Bailey’s life.”

I take that in. It makes me understand in a different way why there was no time to tell me anything—why there was no time to do anything but go.

“He knew he would have been brought in,” he says. “And when he was, he would’ve been fingerprinted, just like Jordan Maverick was this afternoon. And that would reveal who he actually was, game over.”

“So they think Owen’s guilty?” I say. “Naomi, the FBI, whoever else?”

“No. They think he has answers they need, that’s a different thing,” he says. “But if you’re asking me if Owen was a willing participant in the fraud? I would say not likely.”

“What’s more likely?”

“That Avett knew about Owen.”