Chapter 8 #2
He bit the bullet and called Griff. His brother-in-law answered quickly. “Hey, Trevor. I’m still working on your problem.”
“Sorry to be a pest.” He didn’t bother going into detail about Bailey’s sudden illness. “I’m going crazy here doing nothing.”
“I hear you. I will say I have not been able to find the individual names of the owners of Plymouth Properties.”
He frowned. “Is that unusual?”
“Not really. The government tried to put in a rule that all owners had to be listed by name, but it never went through. In my experience, most people don’t bother to list them as it’s not required.”
Another dead end. “What about finding out what additional properties the company owns? That must be listed in some database.”
“I’m running a list, hold on for a moment.
” Griff paused, then said, “Looks like most of their property is in New Jersey and New York. There are seven other businesses outside of those two states. Two happen to be in Wyoming. The Sweet Water Pub and another place called the Wagoneer, which is located in Cheyenne.”
Cheyenne was a good six-hour drive from Cody. Not exactly convenient if the owners wanted to visit their respective restaurants. Then again, Wyoming was so far from New Jersey and New York that he was having trouble figuring out why they’d branched out west in the first place.
“So nothing suspicious about them,” he said after a moment. “Nothing to indicate they’d have killed Clark on purpose.”
“Not yet, but I plan to keep digging. I find it interesting the company has so many restaurants,” Griff admitted.
“Those types of places don’t always stay solvent.
I mean, chain restaurants can succeed, but the average restaurant doesn’t rake in tons of cash.
And many don’t survive their first few years in business. ”
“That was my thought too. I can’t imagine the Sweet Water Pub brings in anything close to what they make in New Jersey. The average wage is less here, and people don’t necessarily go out to dinner that often.”
“Yep. I’ll reach out to my colleagues on the East Coast, see if they have any insight,” Griff agreed.
“Did the Cody police say anything about the shell casing?” Trevor figured that was a long shot.
“No, but I asked Logan to fly it down to the lab in Cheyenne along with some from the gas station shooting. They appear to be a match, but that’s all I know.
” Griff sighed. “Things don’t move as quickly out here as I’d like at times like this.
The long distances between cities are a hindrance, especially in bad weather. ”
He thought about the impending storm. “I hope Logan doesn’t get caught in a blizzard.”
“He’s a good pilot. He took Jess with him, and they were planning to stay in Cheyenne if it starts to snow.” Griff didn’t sound concerned. “They know their limits. Logan isn’t going to take any chances with Jessica’s pregnancy.”
Trevor could relate to that sentiment. “Okay, Griff. Thanks. I have one more question if you don’t mind.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m wondering if the local police interviewed Clark’s friend, Max Nelson. I don’t know the guy, but I remember meeting him at Clark’s funeral.”
“You think he’s involved?” Griff asked.
“I have no idea, but we suspect the shooter knows Bailey and some of our family too. I just think it’s worth an interview.”
“I’ll ask Sergeant Howell to reach out to him. I would like to continue working the Plymouth Properties angle.”
“That’s fine.” He figured it was better to have the local police ask questions rather than bringing in the FBI. That may scare Nelson off. “Please keep me in the loop if you find anything more.”
“Will do. And Trevor? Don’t get yourself killed.” Griff ended the call.
He couldn’t help but smile as he pocketed his phone.
Griff might not be a blood relative, having married his sister Alexis, but the federal agent adapted to being part of their large family.
His older siblings had used Griff’s FBI expertise over the last few months, most recently when Justin had needed help in catching an escaped convict.
They were fortunate to have Griff on hand as needed.
Feeling restless again, he stood and resumed his pacing. Archie rose from his position in front of the fire, stretched, and joined him. He knew his K9 would be able to track Bailey’s bad guy if they could only find him.
He headed into the kitchen to figure out what they should have for dinner. If Bailey was feeling better, soup may not be enough. There was chicken, small red potatoes, and green beans. Healthy enough for a pregnant woman.
As the minutes stretched into one hour and then two, he grew worried. Archie sensed his unease, tracking him with his large brown eyes as he went down the hallway to listen outside Bailey’s door.
Hearing nothing alarming, he told himself she was fine. Then he cracked the door just enough to see her sleeping.
Slightly reassured, he quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen. He opened the computer and went back to Max Nelson’s social media. He scanned the comments, searching for anything unusual.
One comment caught his attention since it was written by Clark on the same day as his death.
Still up for a brew later?
Nelson had liked the comment and replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
He sat back in his chair, wondering if Sergeant Howell had known Clark had made plans to meet up with his buddy Max the day he’d crashed. Did it matter? From what he’d learned about investigating crimes over the past year, the last person to see someone alive was always interviewed first.
He vaguely remembered Clark’s crash being late at night.
Another reason the police had deemed it an accident.
But he also knew that Clark hadn’t been intoxicated when he’d crashed.
Or at least, not over the legal limit. He pulled out his phone and called Howell.
The cop didn’t answer, so he left a message.
“This is Trevor Sullivan. Did you interview Clark’s buddy, Max Nelson?
He met with Clark the evening he died for a drink at the Sweet Water Pub.
” He hoped Tom didn’t take offense to his question.
“Just curious if he was the last one to see Clark alive. Please call me back when you have time, thanks.”
“Trevor?” Hearing Bailey’s voice, he spun in his seat. Then he jumped up to cross over to her. Every time he moved, Archie scrambled to his feet.
“How are you feeling?” To his eye, she looked better. “Are you hungry? Should I heat up some soup?”
“I feel better.” She smiled, and he had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. “And yes, I would love some soup, maybe some toast as well.”
“Coming right up.” He turned to head into the kitchen while Archie greeted Bailey as if she had been gone for days instead of napping for a few hours. “I can also make a cup of herbal tea.”
“That would be great.” She lowered herself into the chair, stroking Archie’s fur. “I’m not sure what happened earlier. The sandwich tasted fine going down.”
He debated telling her about his conversation with Maya but decided to wait. If she felt worse again, he’d let her know about Maya’s suggestion of going to the hospital.
Busying himself in the kitchen, he filled an electric kettle with water and turned it on. Then he set about heating the soup on the stove.
“Did you find anything interesting?” Bailey asked as he filled a mug with hot water and brought it to her with the variety pack of herbal tea.
“Just that Clark had a meeting with his friend Max Nelson the evening he died.” He turned to put the bread in the toaster.
“A business meeting?”
“No, it sounded social.” He glanced at her. “They were having a beer at the pub.”
She shrugged. “I guess that doesn’t surprise me. I imagine Clark spent a lot of time at the pub.”
The derogatory note in her voice was interesting. “You didn’t approve?”
“I—don’t remember.” She stared at her tea. “But if you asked me now if I’d like to be married to a man who owns a pub, I’d say not in a million years.”
The firm and somewhat annoyed tone surprised him. “I wonder why you married him, then.”
“I don’t know how to answer that since I don’t remember him or our life together.” She took a cautious sip of her tea. “Maybe I didn’t feel that way at first but grew to dislike the pub over time.”
“That makes sense.” The toast popped. He buttered it, filled a bowl with soup, and carried the plate and bowl to the table. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She folded her hands together, blushed, and asked, “Um, will you say grace? I don’t know why, but I have trouble finding the right words with my memory loss.”
“Of course.” He was touched by her request and almost mentioned the fact that she didn’t normally pray before meals.
But he was hoping this was the beginning of her faith journey and simply complied.
“Dear Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food Bailey is about to eat. We ask You to continue to keep Bailey and her baby safe in Your care. Amen.”
“Amen.” She took a bite of the toast. “This hits the spot.”
He watched her with the intensity of a hawk tracking a mouse. “Let me know if you start to feel sick again.”
“I’m fine.” She ate one piece of toast, then started on the soup. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind more toast.”
“Coming right up.” He was relieved she wasn’t running to the bathroom to puke. Maybe that had been more about stress and lack of sleep. The two-hour nap seemed to have done wonders for her.
She ate in silence for a few moments. Archie snored softly from beneath the table. “Have you learned anything new about the investigation?”
“I spoke to Griff. He’s still digging into Plymouth Properties. Turns out they own a place in Cheyenne too. It’s called the Wagoneer.” He eyed her closely. “Does that sound familiar?”
“No.” She frowned. “Cheyenne, huh? I think I’ve visited the state capital once.”
“You remember that?” His pulse kicked up. Was this the start of her memory returning? Maybe rather than coming in one fell swoop, it would be more of this gradual familiarity with things.
The latter option made more sense, now that he thought about it.
“Sort of. I mean, I can see the capital building in my mind.” She sipped more soup. “To be fair, I could have seen it in a picture.”
The toast had popped, so he buttered it and carried it to her plate. Then he sat beside her. “Do you remember if you were with anyone at the capital?”
“No.” She frowned. “Don’t get all excited over a vague image in my mind. I’ll let you know if my memory returns.”
“I understand.” He squashed his enthusiasm. “When you feel up to it, we can look at more social media posts.”
She nodded. “I’m good. Let’s do it.”
He waited until she’d finished her toast and soup. After clearing the dishes away, he returned to the table. “If you get upset, let me know and I’ll shut it down.”
“Okay, but I’m pretty sure I’m fine now.” She rested her hand on his arm. “Thanks for your concern.”
“You scared me,” he admitted. Tapping the track pad, he woke up the computer. He went back up to the photo of the two men he’d shown her earlier. “Do you know these men?”
She stared at the screen for a long moment. “There’s a familiarity about them, but I don’t have a clear memory of either of them.” She glanced at him. “Which one is Clark?” Before he could answer, she tapped the guy on the right. “This one?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” He tipped his head to the side. “Was that a guess?”
She nodded and sighed. “He looks more familiar than the other one, but I can’t bring a full memory of him into my mind. To be honest, I can’t really imagine being married to either of them.”
Maybe being faced with familiar people in her life was working. Trevor took control of the keyboard again, bringing up the website for the Sweet Water Pub. He turned the screen toward here. “How about this?”
She gasped, her eyes going wide. “Yes! I was there!” Then she frowned. “How is it that I can remember a place but not the man I married?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. The good news is that you’re starting to remember.” He reached for her hand. “Getting some sleep probably helped. Maybe by tomorrow morning, you’ll remember more.”
“I hope you’re right.” She clung to his hand. “Because this being lost in the dark is for the birds.”
He leaned in to kiss her, brushing his lips lightly across hers. Then he quickly straightened, mentally kicking himself. What was he thinking?
They needed her memory to return. And kissing her wasn’t likely to help one bit.
Except to remind him of what he’d never have.