Miller Rontree's house was located less than 20 kilometers from the prison and about 10 kilometers south of the helicopter crash site. By the time Jack and Captain Roland arrived, the state police forensic team had yet to reach the scene.
With no time to wait, the two put on shoe covers and gloves before entering the house. Jack bypassed the front entrance, opting to circle around to the backyard and enter through the raised garage door.
The garage was empty except for a long streak of blood that extended from inside the house to the garage. Miller Rontree's body lay discarded in the hallway leading to the living room. His service pistol was missing. His wife's body was found between the kitchen and living room—both had been shot.
"Miller Rontree was still in his correctional officer uniform. He probably got the call from the prison and was getting ready to leave when Simic and Maldonado ambushed him in the garage," Jack deduced.
He began inspecting each room, eventually finding discarded prison uniforms and a guard uniform in the bathroom. The shower showed signs of recent use.
Captain Roland frowned, mentally calculating the timeline. After a moment, he nodded but still seemed puzzled. "It makes sense that they walked here right after the crash. The distance is manageable on foot. But Scranton Airport is to the northeast, while Rontree's house is to the southeast. Simic had a gun—why not head northeast, rob a random house along the way, and get new clothes and a vehicle?"
Jack smirked coldly. "Simic didn't know the state police were searching too far out. They didn't realize they were close to the crash site and could have been missed entirely in the initial search. The helicopter crash wasn't part of their plan, and the pilot didn't have backup clothing prepared.
"Wearing prison orange and a guard's uniform made them stand out like sore thumbs. Rontree's house was a safer option—out of sight, away from main roads, and within walking distance."
Jack pulled up his phone's map, marking the crash site and drawing a line to Rontree's house. Roland immediately understood.
"That route avoids major roads and is pretty remote. You're right—this house was the logical choice."
As they continued searching, Jack entered the master bedroom and froze momentarily before muttering, "Well, it seems Rontree's family wasn't as innocent as we thought."
Roland stepped in behind him and gasped. "Jesus! There's at least $200,000 here."
The bedroom closet door had been left open, revealing stacks of neatly arranged cash.
"Looks like they took a few bundles—probably about $6,000 for travel expenses," Jack estimated. "Notify the state police. They should check local malls and second-hand clothing stores. Rontree's old clothes wouldn't fit either fugitive properly. They might've stopped nearby to buy new clothes and possibly change vehicles."
Roland, thoroughly impressed with Jack's reasoning, quickly relayed the instructions to the state police.
Jack then called Jubal. "Let me guess—Miller Rontree was one of the guards assigned to Maldonado's block?"
"Yeah, he worked the night shift. What did you find? Cash?"
"Over $200,000," Jack confirmed with a sharp snort. "Keep interrogating his partner and any other guards close to Simic or Rontree."
"Got it. Oh, and Aubrey and JJ found Maldonado's escape plane at the Scranton Airport. They also arrested his mistress."
For the first time that day, Jubal sounded relieved. They finally had a concrete lead.
"Good. Have them bring her in. I'm heading back to the prison," Jack replied, pocketing his phone. As he exited the house, he noticed the sky had darkened—the city lights were beginning to illuminate the evening.
Back at the temporary command center, Jubal was wolfing down a meal from the prison's cafeteria. Hannah and Clay had returned and were resting nearby.
"The ERT collected a potential DNA sample from the church. We should have results by tomorrow morning," Hannah reported as she handed Jack a meal tray. Jack chuckled softly—the tray was the same type of stainless-steel compartmentalized plate he remembered from his school cafeteria in his previous life.
The food wasn't half bad, certainly better than what he'd once endured at a small-town diner in Margrave. He suspected the prison staff had gone out of their way to prepare a decent meal for the team.
While eating, Jack casually conversed with Jubal, who had clearly made significant progress since their last update. Still, his expression suggested mixed emotions.
"Rontree's partner, Flynn Beckett, confessed. He also received $200,000 and helped Simic and Maldonado meet up during night shifts," Jubal explained.
"Meet up? For what?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Were they planning the breakout together?"
Jubal, Hannah, and Clay exchanged awkward glances before Jubal finally answered.
"Hookups," Jubal said flatly.
"Pfft!" Jack spat out his mashed potatoes, narrowly avoiding spraying the group. He twisted his head just in time to avoid catastrophe.
"What the fuck?! Are you serious?" Jack stared wide-eyed, his stomach churning as he glanced at the photos of Simic and Maldonado on the evidence board. Both faces were hideous enough to make anyone recoil.
Jack shook his head, trying to process what he'd just heard. He walked over to the board, ripped the photos off, and slammed them onto the table in front of Jubal.
"Look at these. Now tell me again—what kind of relationship did they have?"
"Lovers. Partners. Boyfriends. Clear enough for you?" Jubal deadpanned, barely glancing up from his meal.
"No. Look at these pictures and say it again!" Jack's eyes bulged in horror.
Jubal finally raised his head, glanced at the grotesque mugshots, and gagged. He snatched the photos off the table and slapped them down, glaring at Jack in annoyance.
"They're a couple. Simic's obsessed with Maldonado. Happy now?"
"Jesus Christ..." Jack muttered, rubbing his temples in disbelief.
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]