Chapter Eleven
Honor’s Edge Investigations Office
It was a nice enough day Jill decided to walk from Grandma’s doctor’s office over to Honor’s Edge. She had about thirty minutes while Grandma went through her various checkups.
Jill hadn’t had much of a moment alone to talk to Sam about her progress since she’d first asked her back in February—just the occasional text or email answering Sam’s inquiries. She knew that if there was anything of importance, Sam would have gotten hold of her. So this was probably silly.
Still, she pushed into the office now, glad Sam was sitting at her desk.
“Hey, Jill,” Sam greeted. “I’m glad you came by. You’re on my to-do list today.”
“Perfect timing then. I’ve got about twenty minutes before I have to head back to the doctor’s office.”
“Have a seat,” Sam said, pointing to a chair on the other side of her desk.
Jill sat down. She’d become friendly with Sam over the past year, just from dealing with the Bennets and being friends with Aly, but being in this office, talking about this stuff, it all made her very uncomfortable.
“I still don’t really have any major leads,” Sam said apologetically.
“Just little threads I’m trying to tug on.
I started looking into your grandfather a little bit, wondering if maybe something around his death was what traumatized your grandmother, or might just be a stepping stone to the next thing. ”
Jill nodded. She’d certainly considered losing the love of her life might have marked Grandma. “I don’t know much about him myself. Except she loved him, and she gets sad to talk about him or remember him. But in a … it doesn’t seem like a traumatic thing. She loved him.”
Sam nodded. “What about your dad? Would he be able to tell you anything about Gerald’s background?”
“I’d be happy to try and ask, but he’s always been a bit of a sore subject for my father. Again, I’ve never gotten the impression it was because it was traumatic exactly. More he feels guilty for not being here when he died. Not … doing more to help Grandma.”
Sam wrote a few things on a piece of paper, then slid the piece of paper across from Jill. “I found his obituary. It listed who it should, but it also mentioned these two friends of his. Do you know either guy?”
Jill looked at the names, tried to think about the people she knew here outside Grandma and the Bennets. “No. Those names don’t ring any bells to me. I could ask my dad if he knows these men. Do you not?”
“Not in a personal sense. I’m pretty sure Charles Hayes is Jake Hayes’s father.”
“The detective?” Jill had mixed feelings about Detective Hayes.
He’d been both kind and a little off-putting when questioning Grandma around Benjamin Bennet’s trial. He had a way of staring that was both off-putting and also … made her consider that he was kind of hot … for a much older guy.
Which was a particularly embarrassing thought considering what she was here for.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, clearly not noticing Jill’s embarrassment.
“I’m going to talk to him about it, see what he knows.
Daryl Everly was a teacher at the high school, but he retired before I was in high school.
I looked him up and he lives in Livingston, so I’ll be checking in on him too.
But if your dad has any insights, let me know what he says.
I’m just gathering up any information I can.
” Sam tapped a pen on her desk. “Do you know how your grandfather died?”
“How he died?” Jill echoed.
“Yeah, like heart attack? Cancer? What was the official cause of death? He was only fifty.”
Jill opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d never given much thought to the man who’d died before she was born.
She knew Grandma loved him, from the pictures she kept, from the way she softened on the rare times he came up.
She’d considered something about his death had triggered Grandma, but she’d never really poked that wound.
Mostly because Dad didn’t speak about him much either.
She’d always known there was a sense of guilt around his death, but Dad rarely spoke about his life growing up in Montana—very little about his parents or his friends or the ranch.
He’d been the kind of guy who’d wanted out and focused on that, so it had just seemed …
natural he hadn’t had stories about growing up like other parents had.
Fifty. She hadn’t realized her grandfather had been so young when he died. She hadn’t realized … so many things. Still, she tried to focus on what she did know.
“I know he was in the hospital, and Dad couldn’t get here in time.
So whatever it was wasn’t immediate. There was snow in Boston and probably snow here, so it was something like two days after he died before Dad made it home.
But I guess … no, I don’t know what caused him to be in the hospital.
How he died. No one ever told me. I never asked. ”
Sam nodded as if that was normal, but it wasn’t, was it? To not know how her grandfather died. Still, if it was something traumatic, surely Dad would have mentioned it as a factor in Grandma’s muteness. He wouldn’t just be baffled.
“Could you ask your dad that too?”
Jill nodded. “I … I guess I could.” She hated poking at her dad for these things he didn’t give up willingly.
It felt … cruel, somehow, to ask for information he didn’t want to share. And he didn’t, if he’d never shared it before.
“We could also request a death certificate. That would have a cause of death on it. It’s kind of a pain in the ass process, and it’ll take a while, but it’s an option if you weren’t wanting to get your father involved.”
“Oh, well, I’ll … I’ll talk to Dad and go from there.”
“Sure, no problem. Just let me know anything your dad says. I’m going to look into these friends, and I’ve got a genealogist looking into your grandfather’s family. It’s all a bunch of long shots because there’s…”
“Because the most likely possibility is that there’s no one special reason. That it’s a combination of things I’ll never know, and we won’t have any answers.” Jill hadn’t meant to let all that bleakness leak out, but she couldn’t help but feel it.
“Well, when you put it that way … yeah.” Sam blew out a breath, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be.” Jill tried to smile. No doubt failed. “I knew it was a possibility to not have a real concrete answer. It just … you know when it feels like you’re missing something right in front of your face?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Welcome to half of why Honor’s Edge Investigations was founded. Look, as long as you want me to, I’ll keep searching. If it’s nothing, it’s nothing. But there’s bound to be somethings along the way.”
Jill wondered if she should just give up. Accept Grandma the way she was. Accept that some secrets were best left hidden.
But then a man appeared from the back door.
Cal Bennet. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, both looked old and threadbare. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him dressed so informally. Like a man born and raised in Marietta, Montana.
Jill wanted to believe Grandma’s … strange relationship with Cal was just because Grandma had helped his mother when his father had been abusive. That she’d babysat and looked after Cal. That she’d helped the fourth Bennet brother escape their terrorized childhood.
But all that had been brought to light.
And there was still something hiding.
The truth had done so much good—for the Bennets. Why couldn’t she keep looking for some truth and good for Grandma?
“Hi, Cal,” she offered.
“Hey,” he replied, and Sam looked over her shoulder at him.
“You’re next on my list,” Sam told him.
“For what?”
“For investigations. I’m looking into that threat.”
“A threat?” Jill asked. “What threat?”
“It’s nothing,” Cal grumbled.
“It’s not nothing,” Sam said.
“Nothing enough,” was Cal’s equitable response. “Where’s Glenda?”
“The doctor. Which I should get back to. I don’t want to have to lie to her about where I’ve been.
” Jill got to her feet. Even though she wanted to hear about some threat, it wasn’t any of her business.
She’d likely get the details from Aly soon enough anyway.
“Thanks, Sam. For now … I want you to keep looking. I’ll talk to my dad and let you know if he has anything to add on those guys or anything else. ”
Sam nodded. “Yep, just keep me up to date and I’ll let you know if I have any more questions or find anything of interest.”
“Thanks. Bye, guys.” She headed for the front door, stepped out into the chilly but bright spring afternoon. She was more than a little surprised when Cal followed her out.
“I’ll walk with you a bit. I’m headed to the diner to grab something to eat.”
“Sure.” They walked in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two, Jill sneaking sidelong glances at him. Finally, she couldn’t resist. “I don’t suppose you read it?”
“Uh, not yet. Been a little busy. Bar exam stuff. Threat stuff.”
“Sure.” He wasn’t going to read it.
She had to be okay with that. She had to be okay with it and just … focus on the story she wanted to tell. She couldn’t make him understand what she wanted to do.
She couldn’t figure out why she so desperately wanted to.
“Is this threat serious? Do Aly and Landon know?”
“No and no, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell them.”
Jill wrinkled her nose. She hated that. But… “You really think Sam and Nate won’t?”
He muttered a curse under his breath, still walking with her. “Fair enough,” he muttered. “Look, what do you care if I read it or not? I apologized for being a jerk, and honestly, it doesn’t matter to me one way or another what you write about. Don’t misplace guilt on me, okay? I’m a big boy.”
She supposed it shouldn’t feel like an insult, but it did. Still, she tried to keep the snap out of her tone. “Okay.”
He looked down at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, but she could feel it.
“Did you learn that martyred okay from Aly?”
“I’m not martyring anything,” she replied stiffly. “And you’re being a jerk again.”
He blew out a breath, shoved his hands into his pockets. “Bad habit.”
“Well, change it,” she said irritably. “See you around, Cal.” She turned to split off and head toward the doctor’s office while he stayed on the sidewalk to go to the diner.
But when she happened to look back, she found he was watching her walk away.
And Jill didn’t know quite what to do with the little tickle of reaction that gave her.