Isaac sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose
Isaac sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
A crazy theory, but it was worth testing.
He dialed the number for the county sheriff’s office located about halfway between Vineyard and Fargo.
Sheriff Donovan, this is Detective Brmley from Fargo.
I have an unusual favor to ask of you.
200 km from where Detective Brmley was discussing his theory with the sheriff, Thaddius Montrose sat in a fallen tree, cutting up mushrooms he had found with his knife.
The third week of the journey was the hardest physically and mentally.
Feet were covered in calluses that burst and reappeared.
His fingernails chipped from constant rock climbing.
Insomnia stalked him like a faithful companion.
Every rustle in the night could have been a police patrol or a wild animal.
But worst of all was the isolation.
Thaddius hadn’t spoken to a single person since his escape.
Sometimes he caught himself muttering something to himself just to hear a human voice.
At times like that he doubted his own sanity.
What is he doing? Why go halfway across America for a woman who chose someone else over him? Wouldn’t it have been easier to serve the remaining 2 years and start his life over? Then he’d pull out the picture and all the questions would go away.
It wasn’t just about Kelsey anymore.
It was about what had been taken from him.
freedom, dignity, love, a future.
It was about justice, about retribution, about looking into the eyes of the man who stole his wife while he sat in a cage, what would happen when he got to Fargo.
Thaddius didn’t know himself.
Sometimes he envisioned an emotional reunion with Kelsey, her remorse, their new beginning, sometimes a violent reprisal against Javon.
most often just a conversation, an explanation after which he could let go of the past and move on, even if it meant a new prison sentence.
The initial rage that had pushed him to escape had gradually transformed into something else, a cold, calculating resolve.
Thaddius was no longer an impulsive fugitive driven by blind rage.
He was a hunter, methodical in his pursuit of his goal, mindful of every detail, calculating every step.
After eating his meager supper of mushrooms and leftover rabbit meat, Thaddius spread out the map and marked the next section traveled.
Less than 300 m to go.
Two more weeks of travel if he was lucky.
He folded the map, carefully tucked the photograph into an inside pocket, and lay down using the backpack as a pillow.
Tomorrow he had a new marathon day waiting for him.
New challenges, new miles bringing him closer to Fargo, to Kelsey, to the finale of this crazy story.
And with that thought, he fell into a restless sleep in which he ran, ran, ran, but could never reach his destination.
On the 42nd day of the journey, Thaddius finally saw Fargo.
The city gradually grew out of the skyline.
First the individual highrises of the center, then the water tower, then the bridges over the Red River.
Standing on a gentle hill near the southern edge, he gazed at the goal of his grueling marathon, feeling a strange mixture of triumph and desolation.
His appearance had changed greatly during the 6-week journey.
It was hard to recognize the pale prisoner in his weathered tanned face with the stubble that had grown back.
He updated his clothes regularly, making nightly raids on village stores and roadside gas stations.
On the 35th day of his trip, a week before Fargo, he’d robbed a small department store in a border town, taking decent jeans, a dark shirt, new boots, and a leather jacket.
From the cash register, he took about $300, enough for a lastditch effort, but not so much as to attract the attention of the feds.
Now, on his approach to Fargo, he looked like a regular traveler, tired, but tidy and not suspicious.
The first thing Tadius did was rent a room in a cheap motel on the outskirts of town.
For cash, no ID, posing as a trucker whose car had broken down.
The owner, an elderly Vietnamese man, just shrugged.
He wanted money, not explanations.
A hot shower and a clean bed seemed an unacceptable luxury after weeks in the wilderness.
For the first time in a long time, Thadius allowed himself to fall into a deep restorative sleep.
Though even in his sleep, his hand occasionally fumbled for the knife under his pillow.
Upon waking, he felt refreshed.
His body, hardened by 6 weeks of extreme travel, was ready for the final stage of the mission.
After spending an hour shaving and tidying up, Thaddius set out to explore.
At an internet cafe near the motel, he methodically gathered information.
Javon Price was a prominent figure in town owner of three restaurants, member of the Chamber of Commerce, sponsor of charity events.
His face was often in the local press, a tall, personable man with a confident smile, a successful businessman accustomed to getting whatever he wanted out of life.
Kelsey had been found too.
In the photos from the fundraiser, she stood next to Javon, elegant in her evening gown.
Looking at those pictures, Thaddius felt a strange pricknot jealousy or anger, but some kind of detached wonder.
She looked alien, as if she were not his wife, but a stranger who happened to bear the same name.
three years in prison and the subsequent escape had created a gulf between them that could not be measured in miles.
Continuing his search, Thaddius found the address of Javon’s main restaurant, the Blue Lagoon on Broadway Street.
He devoted the next two days to surveillance, keeping a safe distance.
Javon would usually show up at the restaurant around noon, spend a few hours in his second floor office, then leave to check out other establishments.
He would return in the evening to follow up during peak hours.
Following Javon’s black Mercedes, Thaddius found their home, a two-story mansion in an upscale neighborhood.
It was surrounded by a small but well-maintained lot with an ornamental fence, more for beauty than protection.
It was the typical home of a successful man, confident in his security.
Three times Tadas saw Kelsey leave the house, get into a white Lexus, and drive away.
Once in the morning, obviously to work, twice in the afternoon, probably for lunch or business.
Gradually, Teddis’s mind formed their routines, and more importantly, the periods when Kelsey was alone in the house, watching the measured life of his ex-wife and her new man, Thadius felt not so much rage as a deep, all-consuming numbness.
The emotions that had driven him forward for 6 weeks seemed to have burned out, leaving a void inside.
All that remained was a mechanical determination to finish what he had started.
On the fourth day of observation, Thadius drew up a plan.
According to the schedule, Javvon would leave home early on Wednesday and return late after 9 in the evening.
Kelsey stayed home most of the time that day.
Her car never left the garage.
the perfect opportunity to talk to her alone and then wait for Javon to return.
What exactly would happen then? Thaddius tried not to elaborate.
He wanted it to be decided the moment he met when he looked into the eyes of the man who had ruined his life.
The evening before the scheduled date, there was a knock on his motel room door.
Thaddius tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife hidden under his pillow.
“Who is it?” he asked, trying to speak calmly.
Fargo police, sir.
Routine check.
May I come in? Thaddius’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly pulled himself together.
If they knew who he was, they wouldn’t knock politely.
It really could have been a routine check.
Just a moment, officer.
He glanced around the room hurriedly, removing the knife and marked cards from sight.
Then, pulling his baseball cap lower on his forehead, he opened the door.
A middle-aged policeman with a tired face stood on the threshold.
Sorry to bother you, sir.
We’re checking all the motel in the area.
We’re looking for a suspect in a string of burglaries.
Have you noticed anything unusual? No, officer.
Thaddius replied calmly, keeping a low profile.
I’ve only been here a couple days waiting for my truck to be fixed.
The policeman nodded, clearly not interested.
If you notice anything, call this number.
He held out a business card and walked to the next door.
Thaddius closed the door, feeling his heart pounding.
Close contact with the police was dangerous.
Perhaps it was worth speeding up the plan.
Tomorrow, it would all be over tomorrow.
As Thadius prepared for the crucial day, Detective Isaac Bramley sat in his office, studying the map spread out on his desk.
On it were marked the points of possible sightings of Thadius Montros.
Desperate reports that however added up to an alarmingly straight line from Vineyard to Fargo.
When Brmley first floated the theory that the fugitive might be on foot, colleagues only laughed, but he insisted on testing it.
Contacting sheriffs in the counties between Vineyard and Fargo, he requested information on unusual thefts, strange encounters with unknown persons, any anomalies.
The data proved fragmented but alarming.
a gas station robbery in Montana.
A theft from a country store in North Dakota, a department store robbery the week before where the perpetrator took an odd assortment of items, clothes, shoes, necessities, and finally 3 days ago, a call from a roadside cafe owner who saw a man matching Thadius’s description near Fargo.
If his calculations are correct, Montrose is in town or very close and no doubt heading toward Kelsey.
Brmley picked up the phone.
Mrs. Montrose, this is Detective Bramley.
I need to see you and Mr. Price right away tonight if possible.
An hour later, Brmley was sitting in the spacious living room of Price’s house.
Kelsey looked worried.
Javon looked rather annoyed.
I have reason to believe your husband is in Fargo,” the detective said without preamble.
Kelsey went pale.
Javon snorted this theory again.
“Look, detective, with all due respect, it sounds ridiculous.
How could a man with no money, no ID, no transportation travel that distance?” Brmley put a folder on the table with the data he’d collected on foot.
Mr. price alone through forests and fields, surviving with skills learned in the Marines and committing petty thefts for sustenance.
Here is evidence of his journey.
He laid out photos and reports.
This is no longer theory.
It’s a fact.
And if I’m right, Montrose is already here getting ready to meet you.
Kelsey squeezed Javon’s hand as she looked through the documents.
This does sound like Thad.
I always said that if he made up his mind about something, he’d do it.
Javon, finally realizing the gravity of the situation, asked, “What do you suggest?” “Move to a safe place temporarily.
We can arrange for police protection.
I will not run from this man,” Javon said firmly.
“This is my home.
I have security at the restaurant.
I can get private security here.
” “Javon, please,” Kelsey pleaded.
“You don’t know Thaddius.
and you don’t know me if you think I’m going to hide.
” He cut him off.
Brmley sighed.
“In that case, I insist on 24-hour police surveillance, and you both should be extremely careful, especially tomorrow.
” “Why tomorrow?” Kelsey asked.
“Wednesday.
According to your schedule, you’re usually home alone while Mr. Price works,” the detective explained.
“It would be the perfect time to try to talk to you.
” Kelsey flinched.
Javon put his arm around her shoulders.
I’ll stay home tomorrow.
I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Bramley objected.
If Montrose wants to meet with your wife alone and finds you, the situation could escalate.
Better let us set up surveillance and intervene at the right moment.
The next morning, on the appointed day, Thadius awoke at dawn.
For the first time in 6 weeks, he had no intention of going anywhere.
Today, his journey was going to end.
He checked his equipment.
A knife with a 7-in blade bought at a department store.
A coil of strong cord.
A flashlight.
A bottle of water.
He dressed inconspicuously.
Dark jeans, black shirt, jacket.
Nothing flashy, memorable.
At 9:30 in the morning, Thadius took up a position in the park across from Price’s house.
From here, he had a good view of the garage driveway and the main entrance.
At 10:00, he saw Javvon’s black Mercedes pull into the driveway and head toward the center.
But contrary to expectations, Kelsey’s white Lexus stayed in the garage.
15 minutes later, a patrol car pulled up.
Two police officers got out and took up a position outside the house.
Then a dark sedan appeared from which a man in civilian clothes, Detective Brmley, got out.
They were obviously expecting him today.
Thaddius retreated deeper into the park, contemplating the situation.
The police had guessed his presence and were preparing to meet him.
But if Kelsey was home and protected, Javon was probably at the restaurant.
There might be security there, too.
But not as tight as here.
The solution came naturally.
If they couldn’t catch Javon at home, then they’d have to meet him at the Blue Lagoon.
Moving downtown, Thaddius watched the restaurant from across the street.
Strangely, there were no police around.
Perhaps they were focusing their forces on protecting the house, underestimating his resolve.
All day, he had waited patiently, shifting positions so as not to attract attention.
The restaurant was busy, a lunchtime flow, then a brief lull, then the evening rush of customers.
Javon appeared in the room several times, chatting with the guests, then returned to his office.
At 9:00 pm, the main flow of visitors subsided.
That saw the last waiters leaving the restaurant through the service entrance.
Inside, judging by the light in the second floor windows, only Javon and maybe a couple of employees remained.
Thaddius walked around the building and entered through the unlocked service door.
The kitchen was empty.
The cooks had already left, leaving everything cleanly scrubbed and ready for tomorrow.
He silently climbed the stairs to the second floor where the owner’s office was located.
The office door was a jar.
“Javon sat at his desk, immersed in his paperwork.
” He didn’t notice Thaddius enter and quietly shut the door behind him.
“Javon Price,” Thaddius said, and the businessman flinched, raising his eyes from the papers.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” he asked, clearly not recognizing the man in front of him.
I’m Thaddius Montrose, he answered, watching Javvon’s eyes widen as understanding and fear flickered across his face.
Kelsey’s husband.
Javvon stood up slowly, not taking his eyes off the intruder.
The police are looking all over town for you.
They know you’re here.
Yeah, I noticed.
Thaddius nodded, locking the door.
They’re guarding the house, but there’s no one here to protect you.
Javon glanced at the phone on the table.
“What do you want?” “Justice,” Thaddius answered, pulling a knife from his pocket.
“You stole my wife while I was in jail for defending her.
3 years is a long time, isn’t it? If she really loved me, she would have waited.
” “Look.
” Javon tried to speak calmly, but his voice betrayed him.
“We didn’t plan this.
It just happened.
Kelsey was lonely.
” “Lonely?” Thaddius interrupted, stepping forward.
She had a husband.
I wrote her every week.
I was counting the days until she was released.
Mantros, let’s talk.
Javon backed away slowly until his back was against the wall.
Kelsey loves me.
She chose me.
What do you hope to gain by killing me? Her love? Her gratitude? No.
Thaddius shook his head.
Justice.
The movement was swift, honed by years of military training.
The knife went under Javon’s ribs, striking the heart.
The restaurantur’s eyes widened with shock and pain.
He tried to say something, but only a weeze escaped his throat.
Thaddius supported his slumping body, gently laying him on the floor.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said quietly, looking into the glassy eyes.
“It’s just that no one dares to take what is mine.
Wiping the knife on Javvon’s shirt, Thaddius tucked it back into his pocket.
Now that left Kelsey, he must see her face when she learned of her lover’s death.
Must look into the eyes of the woman he’d traveled 740 m to do justice for.
Leaving the office, Thadius walked down the stairs and left the restaurant through the same service door.
The night air was cool and fresh after the stuffy room.
He inhaled deeply, feeling strangely calm.
One part of his mission was complete.
The second remained.
Price’s house was a 15-minute walk away.
Thaddius moved confidently, not hiding.
It didn’t matter now if he was seen.
The deed was done, and he wasn’t going to run away.
7 weeks ago, he had escaped from prison, driven by a thirst for revenge.
Now that his revenge was done, there was nowhere to go and no reason to run.
The police car was still parked outside the house, but the officer seemed to be dozing at the wheel.
The second policeman and detective were nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps they were patrolling the perimeter or had changed to another car.
Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.
That walked to the front door and rang the bell.
A few seconds later, a light came on in the hallway and the door opened.
Kelsey stood before him, so familiar and so foreign at the same time.
“Tad?” Her voice trembled, her eyes widened with recognition and fear.
“Hello, Kelsey,” Thaddius said quietly.
“May I come in?” Before she could answer, there was a sharp shout from behind her.
Police don’t move.
Thaddius turned slowly.
Detective Brmley was standing a few feet away, pointing a gun at his chest.
Hands behind your head, Montrose.
Slowly.
Thaddius looked at Kelsey, then at the detective.
He could have rushed into the house, grabbed Kelsey, used her as a shield.
He could have tried to escape, lost himself in the night.
But why? His journey ended here at the doorstep of the house that should have been his home.
a home that would never be home to his wife.
“Javon is dead,” he said, raising his hands.
“I killed him in the restaurant.
The body is in his office.
” Kelsey cried out, covering her mouth with her hands, her face contorted with horror and grief.
“Why, Thaad? Why?” she whispered through her tears.
“Because you were mine,” he answered simply.
“And he took you away.
” Detective Brmley approached, pulling out his handcuffs.
Thaddius Montros, you’re under arrest on suspicion of murder.
You have the right to remain silent.
Thaddius wasn’t listening.
He stared at Kelsey, trying to memorize every feature of her face.
The woman he’d killed a man in a bar for.
The woman he’d escaped from prison for.
The woman he’d walked 740 m for.
The woman who never loved him the way he loved her.
Three months later, the court sentenced Thaddius Montrose to life in prison without parole.
The story of the prisoner who traveled 740 mi on foot to kill his wife’s lover made a splash in the press.
Some saw it as a romantic tragedy, others as an example of dangerous obsession.
Kelsey didn’t show up for her trial.
