Chapter 52
“So, I just got an interesting call while you were in the back.”
Jameson is sitting at the bar of my work, drinking a whiskey neat while I finish up the last of lunch shift tasks.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I told him I loved him, and now I can’t stop.
I want to be around him any chance I get, and honestly, so does Jess.
She’s obsessed. Whenever he’s not around, she asks why and suggests we invite him over.
I couldn’t have asked for a better relationship between the two of them.
“About?”
“Sonny Millz.”
I stop what I’m doing and drop my rag on the counter.
“Or should I say, Daniel Delgado.”
“What?” My voice comes out louder.
“Sonny moved to Bozeman in 1976 and changed his name to Daniel Delgado.”
“What! Well, that’s insanely suspicious, right? Do we think he killed her, then?”
“Well, about a year after that, there are records of him living with a woman named Rose Delgado. They’ve been married almost this entire time.”
“Still? But no record of Elizabeth?”
“Still no record of her. Haven’t been able to trace her.”
“But if he was some psycho killer, wouldn’t he have done it again? Or at least had some domestic or criminal charges?”
“No criminal record. Completely clean.”
The excitement is starting to fade, leaving disappointment in its place. “So we still don’t know what happened to her…unless…” I perk up a little, physically and mentally. “Can we talk to him somehow? He has to know more.”
“So…he died. Three months ago.”
My heart sinks. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” Jameson folds his arms on the counter, watching me.
“Anything else?”
“That’s all he’s got. For now.”
I tap my thumbs against the counter, my mind spinning.
“I feel like we’re so close,” I sigh in frustration, twirling a straw absently. “What if…we talk to Rose?”
“She’s an eighty-year-old woman. What are we supposed to tell her? That we think her husband may have been involved in a murder sixty years ago?”
I give him a hopeful look that confirms I was thinking exactly that. “Yes?”
Jameson runs his hands down his jaw, thinking it over. “I thought you might say that. I have her phone number.” He slides a paper over to me. “I’m assuming you want to do the honors?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Okay. Let me finish up here and we’ll do it from my car?”
Jameson exhales, folding his arms across the bar again. He looks at me with an amused smile. “I had hoped we could do something else in your car.”
“Oh, please. You did not.”
“I did. I’m always thinking of ways I can get you naked.”
My cheeks heat up, and I whip my towel at him, missing him on purpose. “Shhh. Someone could hear you.”
He glances around. The place is empty. “So, how was it today?
I shrug with very little enthusiasm. “It was fine. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’m just…bored. I want more. Something that challenges me. I’ve always played it safe because I was alone, and I was afraid of taking on too much and becoming overwhelmed.”
“And now you have me.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question—more like reassurance. “But you could do anything you set your mind to, with or without me.”
I smile at him. The emotion behind his sunlit blue eyes makes me forget what I’m doing for a moment.
I’m falling deeper and deeper in love with him every day.
He makes me feel like I can do more. That maybe I can still chase my dreams. I know he’d never push it, but I think he senses that I want more too.
I finish up my closing task list and head out to the car, hand in hand with Jameson. Giddy with anticipation, I dial the number as soon as I sit down.
“I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to say, have I?” I ask as the phone rings.
“No.” He laughs.
I pull the phone away from my ear an inch. “Should I think this through and call back later?” I whisper.
“Hello?” A frail female voice answers the phone just as I’m about to hang up.
My mouth falls open, speechless. I look at Jameson, frozen.
“Hello?” she repeats.
I quickly hit the speakerphone button. “Hi. Is this Rose?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you. I work at the Silver Pines Lodge near Lake Tahoe, and I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
Jameson scrunches his brows with amusement. He looks eager to see where I’ll take it.
There’s a tense pause.
“Hello?” I ask.
“I’m sorry. What…what can I help you with?”
“Well, I’m looking for someone named Sonny Millz.”
Another long pause. I hear her take a deep breath. That’s all the confirmation I need—she knew Sonny. Not just a Daniel Delgado.
“Are you a reporter or something? A detective?”
“No. I’m just…a friend of a friend, trying to find someone.”
Another pause. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
“You knew Sonny?
“Yes.”
“I’m, uh…” I decide to just be straight-forward. She’s in her eighties, maybe she has nothing to lose by telling me. “Did Daniel used to go by Sonny?”
I feel Jameson’s gaze and meet it. His eyebrows are raised.
Another deep breath. “He did. But that was a long, long time ago.”
“Rose, I’m so sorry to be forward, but…are you Elizabeth Mary Wells?” I don’t use her married last name, in case it triggers her.
“No.”
“Do you know who that is, by any chance?”
Another stretch of silence, and I can hear her take a deep breath.
“I’ve heard the name. I may have some of the information you seek, but I cannot say any more over the phone.”
“Oh…”
“Listen—what was your name?”
“Carly.”
“Carly. I’m an old woman now. If you really want answers, you’re welcome to come by for a visit. I live alone and don’t get much company these days.”
“Wow. Okay. Umm, thank you. I’ll see what I can do and get back to you, is that all right?”
“Yes, dear. Have a good day.”
“You too, Rose.”
She hangs up. I look at Jameson, wide-eyed, still holding the phone out.
“That…went easier than we could have hoped.”
“Couldn’t have gone better, honestly. Well, unless she had told us right then and there what she knows about Elizabeth.”
“Yeah…”
“So, when do we leave?”
“What?” I whip my head toward him.
“We’re going, right? We’re so close.”
“We can’t just travel halfway across the country to visit some stranger. What if she’s—”
“Dangerous?” Jameson mouth curves.
“I mean…what if he really was a murderer and she’s, like, his accomplice or something?”
“She’s in her eighties…how dangerous can she be?”
“What if she lives with her grandson who is their protégé? A young, trained killer, ready to attack after she lures us in with her guise of being elderly and frail.”
Jameson actually cackles. It’s a loud, unrestrained laugh. A beautiful sound.
“I’m serious,” I scold, though I’m laughing too.
He takes my hand, still smiling wide, his eyes squinting and crinkling at the corners. “I’ll protect you.”
I laugh again, softer this time. “I’ll think about it.”