Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
CHARLOTTE
I’m just pulling into Evergreen’s parking garage when my phone rings through the Bluetooth. The caller ID is an odd one…something I’ve never seen before, so I decline it.
But as soon as I park, my phone chimes with a voicemail.
I run my tongue over the temporary crown Dr. Wilson placed on my cracked tooth yesterday. He said it’s normal for the nerves to take a few days or even weeks to settle down, but the ache is mild compared to yesterday. I should have gone in sooner, before it turned into such a crisis.
Leaning back in my seat, I gaze out my windshield at the big gray clouds that have been building all day, muting the sunlight so it feels later than nearly noon. I hadn’t planned to spend all morning in bed with William, but I couldn’t help myself.
It’s not that I’ve been lonely. Or even alone.
But since Creekside, it’s like my heart’s been fed only the minimum caloric intake to keep beating. And now, she’s been offered a taste of everything we’ve missed. How can I deny her?
Even though being with William is a dream I can’t keep. And the longer I indulge, the harder it’s going to be to leave .
My fragile heart presses against my ribs. Let. Me. Out. I should. So she can save herself.
With a trembling finger, I press the replay button on my voicemail.
But I’m surprised by the warm voice filling my car.
“Hi Charlotte, this is Special Agent Luke Ballard with the FBI. William gave me your number. Say, I’m working a case and I’m hoping you can help me with a few things. Give me a call when you get a chance.”
I huff a slow breath and blink at the slice of patchwork sky outside the parking garage. Yesterday’s phone call flashes in my mind. I need you to make a couple of records disappear. I don’t want to think about what this means, but already my stomach is knotted, uneasy.
If Nic’s hurt other people, does that mean he’s likely to do it again?
Needing to move, I step from the car and walk toward the hospital entrance.
The only people who know about what happened at Creekside besides Nic and his fixer are Morgan and Sally.
Not even the therapist I saw knows his name.
I didn’t doubt for one second Nic’s promise to ruin me if I went public, but the NDA spelled it out in detail.
If Morgan or I ever leaked the truth about what he did, not only were we required to pay back the money Sally got us—money we used to buy Gudrun’s property and three hundred acres—but he would crush Boxcar Doves and any hope either of us had of performing music professionally.
But I can’t avoid talking to the FBI forever. And if I’ve had my head in the sand all these years while Nic continued to hurt other women…
When I reach the big foyer, I walk to the railing that overlooks the main floor entryway below and dial Special Agent Luke Ballard’s number.
“Charlotte?” he answers, his tone brisk, but with that hint of warmth I recognize from his message. “Thanks so much for calling me back.”
“Of course. ”
“Did William fill you in on what I’m working?”
“A little.” One of the nearby elevators dings, and several women in blue scrubs shuffle in, each of them holding a paper coffee cup.
“Your dad ran The Limelight for almost thirty years,” Luke says as the elevator doors close. “That must have made for an interesting childhood.”
“I suppose.” He doesn’t really want this story, does he?
“And you’re a professional musician now?”
“Yes, I earned a music degree from Cornish. I’m auditioning for a permanent position with the Seattle Symphony.” My stomach jolts. I skipped my rehearsal window at Crosby’s this morning.
“How difficult is that?” Luke asks.
I laugh. “Extremely. It can take years of trying, and even the most talented musician might not make it.”
“I wish you the best of luck, then.”
I lean my back against the railing. “Thank you.”
“You and your sister Morgan have played at The Limelight, correct?”
“Yes.”
“But Boxcar Doves is no longer together?”
“That’s right. Three years ago was our last show. At The Limelight, actually.”
“Did something happen?”
Unease slides down my spine. “We’re just busy with other things.”
“You also played at a number of other venues. Harker’s Café, the Boise Jubilee, and Creekside.”
I release a silent breath, puffing my cheeks. He’s done his homework. “Yep.”
“Did you ever meet Ari Pullman?”
“Briefly.”
“Was that at Creekside?”
“Yes.” Maybe I should have put off calling him back. His friendly tone is throwing me off.
“Ari and my sister were close. Did Will tell you I’m from Maple Canyon?”
Did he? I rub my forehead. “I think so.”
“My brother Kaz is the sheriff there.”
I gaze out the window again. “It was awful, when she went missing.”
“Yeah,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “Did you ever meet Dagney Cole?”
“No.”
He lists off two other names, but they aren’t familiar. “After I started at Cornish, I wasn’t really part of that scene anymore.” I expect this to put an end to his questions, but he plows on.
“What I’m looking for is the connection between these young women. What else do you all have in common besides Creekside and The Limelight?”
His choice of pronoun makes me pause. He’s not including me in this group, is he? “I mean, we probably had fans in common.”
“Did any of your fans try to get too close to you? Send you fan mail, leave you unwanted gifts, bomb your DMs, etc?”
“Nope. And Morgan never mentioned anything like that.”
“Was there any crossover in staff between The Limelight and Creekside?”
“I don’t think so. The Limelight is a local club. I don’t think Dad’s staff would also work there too. The Midsummer Night’s Jam was set up by Now Live Entertainment. Have you talked to them?”
“How about managers, record execs, producers?”
Answering my question with one of his own twists my unease that much tighter. “Boxcar never signed with a label or anything like that. But I bet looking up Ari and Dagney and the others would be pretty easy.”
He hums in agreement. “How about fellow musicians?”
A cold prickle dances across my skin. “What do you mean?”
“Crosby Taggart played at both venues.”
“Crosby?” I splutter, then try to cover it up with a laugh. “He’d never hurt anyone. And he was nowhere near Maple Canyon when Ari disappeared. I know because we were together when we heard about it.”
“Can you spell that name for me? I’d like to chat with him.”
I rattle it off. “I can send you his contact?”
Keyboard strokes fill the background. “He’s in Finn River, got it.”
I feel like I should warn Crosby about the surprise phone call he’s about to get from an FBI agent, but he has nothing to hide.
“How about someone from Nic Salazar’s band or crew?” Luke asks.
I open my mouth but no sound comes out. This is why Nic’s fixer wanted me to tamper with the records. To keep this exact moment from happening. “They were at both shows,” is all I can think of.
The ensuing pause makes me feel like a mouse caught in the moonlight beneath the hungry eyes of an owl. “If there’s nothing else, I’m kind of late for an appointment.”
“One more thing before you go,” he says, undeterred. “Do you think Morgan would talk with me? When she’s ready, of course.”
So he knows where she is. It’s unnerving. What else does he already know? “Um, I can ask?”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
We end the call and I tuck my phone back into my purse, then lower to a nearby bench and put my head in my hands.