Chapter 7 Genevieve
GENEVIEVE
Istood from my desk and stepped toward the door. The hallway was empty. Gayle sat at her desk working while Jim had left for the courthouse hours ago.
The stack of work on my desk was done, and I had two hours before I’d text Isaiah to go home.
It had been three days since I’d told him I wanted to find Mom’s killer. And in those three days, I’d devised a plan.
A plan I was keeping secret for the time being.
I sat in my chair, angling the screen of my computer so if Gayle barged in, she wouldn’t see what I was doing. Then I pulled a notepad from my purse and opened it to the first page, writing a name on top.
Draven Slater
I flipped to the next page.
Dash Slater
Then the next.
Emmett Stone
Leo Winter
Presley Marks
With the exception of Isaiah and Bryce, each person at the garage had a page.
I’d fill the empty lines with notes from background and criminal checks. I’d pull a report from the LexisNexis database for property addresses, aliases and anything else I could get my hands on. Then I’d add more names to my notebook.
Next I’d dig into other members of the former Tin King motorcycle club. And after that, I was turning my attention to the Arrowhead Warriors.
Because somewhere, hidden, was a killer. The only weapon I had to find him or her was information. So I was exploiting my resources at the firm to get it.
I spent the next hour clicking through public records and database reports, scribbling notes as fast as I could write. I was in the middle of jotting down Emmett’s long list of properties when my pen stopped on the page.
Emmett shared most of the properties with his mother.
Had they been joint investments? Or had Emmett inherited them when his father had died years ago?
If it was the latter, why wouldn’t all ownership have gone to Emmett’s mother?
I wasn’t familiar enough with Montana’s property and estate laws to know how inheritance defaulted after death.
I blinked.
I wasn’t familiar with a lot of Montana’s laws.
My fingers dove for the keyboard, pulling up a search engine for the state’s legal code. Then I typed in spousal privilege.
The words on the screen blurred as I read them once, then twice. The third time through, my stomach pitched and I shot out of my chair, racing to the bathroom. My knees cracked against the tile floor as the contents of my stomach erupted into the toilet.
I coughed, my head dizzy, as I wiped my mouth dry and sank onto the cool floor.
“Oh my God.” I dragged a hand through my hair.
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have missed this? I’d assumed Montana’s law on testimonial privilege followed the federal regulations.
But it didn’t.
Isaiah and I had gotten married for nothing. A court could call me in to testify against him, and unless I lied under oath, I’d be bound to tell the truth. Maybe there was a loophole. Maybe if the DEA or the FBI got involved, this would fall under federal jurisdiction, but the likelihood was slim.
My stomach rolled again.
Everything, the marriage, the lies, it had all been for nothing.
“Genevieve?” Gayle knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I choked out. “My lunch isn’t settling very well.”
“Oh no, honey. I’m so sorry. You’d better head on home.”
Home? Where was home?
Because as of right now, it didn’t have to be Montana. I could walk away from this. I could annul my marriage to Isaiah and get the fuck out of Clifton Forge.
I pushed myself up off the floor, holding onto the wall as I shuffled for the sink. I splashed my face with water. I rinsed out my mouth. And then I took a long, hard look at my wedding ring.
It was a sham. This entire thing was a sham, for nothing.
I’d been in such a panic after the cabin, I’d made some assumptions to protect Isaiah. I’d made a mistake by not verifying them sooner. But with Mom’s death, the move and being thrust into the Slater family, I’d been too distracted.
My eyes turned up to the mirror.
What would Mom do?
The mother I’d known and loved, my mother, would stay. Not because the law had trapped her into a marriage, but because she’d made a promise. I’d vowed to stand by Isaiah’s side and see this through.
So I was going to do what my mother would have done. I’d keep this to myself since it was my mistake to bear, and I’d keep my promise to Isaiah.
Besides, to find Mom’s killer, I needed to be here in Montana. If I ended this marriage with Isaiah, everyone would question why I was still living in Clifton Forge.
I rinsed my mouth once more, then returned to my office, closing down my computer and stowing my secret notebook in my purse. Then I texted Isaiah that I was ready to leave.
It didn’t take long for the sound of his motorcycle’s engine to echo outside.
“Ready to go home?” he asked when I met him in the parking lot.
I looked into his eyes, those beautifully haunted eyes, and my stomach stopped churning. This was the right thing to do.
For Isaiah.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m ready.”