Chapter Fifteen
Teddy
My stomach is seriously grumbling by the time we actually get to the small diner. That stupid asshole bled all over me, and I had to change and clean up. It’s about ten in the morning and we haven’t slept, so I’m looking forward to a big meal and a nap.
“Two?” the tired-looking waitress asks before leading us to a booth. There are maybe a dozen other people, most of which are reading newspapers or watching the TV in the corner.
“Do you know what you want?” Branson asks me as he puts down his own menu. I know he still gets a thrill from ordering in restaurants.
“I was thinking….” I trail off as my eyes catch sight of the TV, widening immediately. Branson turns to look just as the woman we saved earlier comes on the screen. It’s too quiet to hear from her, but the bottom of the screen says, “Breaking News” and beside it, “Psychotic Couple Kill Man in Alley.”
My mouth drops as I see some of the words play out.
“Killer Couple Connected to Unsolved Thirty-Year-Old Case.”
A moment later, the screen changes and two fuzzy images of us from last night pop up on the screen. It’s clear they’re blown up and enhanced, but they’re clear enough. My eyes immediately begin to scan the restaurant, but no one seems to be looking at us.
“We have to leave now,” Branson says, his voice low and light. His skin looks pale, a feat considering how light-toned he is, and I nod before standing quickly. He waits while I put on my sweater. It’s over my head and I’m about to step away when one of the other patrons catches my gaze, his eyes widen as he looks from us to the TV. True recognition hits his eyes only a second before he jumps up.
“It’s them!” he hollers and most of the other people ignore him, but a few look up. Branson’s hand wraps around my arm, tugging me out of the restaurant quickly just as a few more of the guests start talking, pointing to the TV, whilst a few pull out their phones.
“Shit.”
???
My stomach is still groaning loudly at me while I watch Branson pace. We managed to catch a bit more of the news on our way and confirmed they have connected us with Jane and the fire a few weeks ago. We couldn’t risk going back to the motel and instead darted into the nearby forest. We could go the other way, too, go hide in the depths of the city. Really, we haven’t gotten that far yet.
“Shit!” Branson says for the dozenth time. He’s run his hand through his hair so many times it's standing on end, but I don’t point it out.
“It’s okay,” I say again, “We just need to get out of the state for a bit or something.”
“And how the hell do we do that with our pictures plastered everywhere?”
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, going over to him and placing a hand on his arm to stop his pacing. He pauses but breathes deeply out of his nose, his brows pulled into a knot that's been there since he was young, and I know his head is hurting. My hand comes up to trace the side of his face and he lets out a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look into mine.
“They know what I look like now,” he says, and I nod.
“We have to leave.”
I nod again.
“Now that they know we have something to do with Jane, they won’t stop.”
He frowns. “What was that about, anyway? The thirty-year-old thing? Do you know?”
I breathe out my nose and nod, this time slowly, but don’t reply right away. I consider what I’ve learned about Jane over the years and how much to tell Branson. Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t had this conversation sooner, but I’ve been so happy I haven’t wanted to think about it.
“What?” he asks impatiently.
“It’s just… have you ever heard the name Robert Ketis?”
His brows knit together to a frown and he shakes his head.
“Who is that?”
“How much do you know about Jane’s mom?”
“Fuck, Mia, just assume I know nothing and fucking tell me!”