Claire spoke carefully, “I chose this. I need that on record. Ryan told me everything before the wedding—what he’d found, what Aldridge said, what the alternative was. I chose to go with him.” She looked directly at Dellray. “I haven’t spoken to my mother since 1994, but have thought about her every single day.”
Marsh cut in from the window, “Marcus.” Dellray looked up. She said, “The gray truck is at the bottom of the access road.” Dellray told the two Knoxville agents to stay, door closed to everyone, and took Marsh out the back. Through the tree line, he could see the Silverado closer now, engine off, someone inside watching the cabin door.