The case they are building against him includes kidnapping and abduction, as well as illegally trafficking guns. He blames the people he hired for Sophia’s treatment, but I blame him for trusting her welfare to criminals in the first place. He may have thought he had the perfect resource in his gun trafficking buddies, but they work with a moral code the Texan just didn’t grasp. Or maybe he did. The man killed to prevent getting caught. The FBI is still working on tracking down his hired guns.

In a lot of ways, the worst is over. Jack has his daughter back. But looking at the sour expression on Jack’s face, you wouldn’t think that. Other than he’s getting sleep now, there’s not much difference in the Jack sitting with me now and the Jack from a month earlier.

“What’s wrong? You look pissed.” Maybe there’s something going on with him and his Uncle Mark. I’ve overheard him argue with him more than once, always about work related matters. Or maybe Alex has changed me into someone way too in touch with emotions. Before I met her, I’d never ask a guy what’s wrong.

“It’s…this.” Jack gestures to the beach. “I hate this. I hate Sophia is still going through this. I hate she can’t be comfortable with her friends. I hate it’s not over.” Alex and Sophia wade knee-deep into the ocean. “I can’t get over Sophia knew Cassandra cheated. She was too young to have to deal with that. And now…”

“Did she know it was Wayne?” I haven’t pushed Jack for information. I’m not working the case, and I’m pretty certain the FBI asks all the questions.

“She did. I always thought it was odd that Sophia refused to remain in the room when Wayne came over. She’d slip away the moment he walked through the door. But she says she found out long after it was over. Wayne wanted Cassie back, and she overheard them. When she approached Cassie about it, she says her mom swore it was over. And she died a few days after that. She said she never said anything to me because after Cassandra died, she didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Do you think Wayne had anything to do with Cassandra’s death?”

“Police investigated that wreck. Didn’t find anything. But, given what he did do, I’ll go to my grave wondering.” He swallows his beer again. Like me, his focus is on the water’s edge. “I’ll go to my grave wondering how the hell I fucked it up so badly.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you marry, you think, you believe, it’s going to last. And…yet—”

“Hey, you’re not the one who cheated.”

“That’s a copout. It’s my fault. I dove into work. Left her alone. When things got tough, I walled off. I’ve always been like that. It’s on me.”

“Have you tried talking to a therapist?”

Jack looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I don’t need a therapist.”