Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

J o and Bridget sat at the bar in Holy Spirits, the repurposed church-turned-drinking establishment. Stained glass windows cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the worn wooden floors, and the lofty ceiling created an airy atmosphere. The bar, with its amazing backdrop of colorful stained-glass windows, was lined with an eclectic mix of liquor bottles and beer taps.

Bridget sipped her soda water, the bubbles fizzing against her glass. Jo nursed a cold beer, the condensation dripping down the bottle.

“I messaged Sam to come by after work,” Jo said, setting her phone on the bar. “Last I heard, he was talking to Henley Jamison, trying to expedite a warrant.”

“It will be great to see him.” Bridget nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I applied for the pastry chef course. It starts next week!”

Jo grinned, reaching over to squeeze her sister’s hand. “That’s fantastic, Bridge! I’m so proud of you.”

Bridget beamed, her cheeks flushing with pride. “I can’t wait to get started. I’m finally getting my life together.”

“You’re going to be amazing,” Jo said, raising her glass in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

Bridget clinked her glass against Jo’s, the sound echoing through the bar. “To new beginnings.”

As they sipped their drinks, Jo leaned in toward Bridget. “I’m going to bring Garvin another pie tomorrow, and I was thinking maybe something else too.”

“Like what?”

“I was thinking maybe a home-cooked meal. All the guy eats is peanut butter.”

Bridget’s eyes lit up. “I’d be happy to whip something up. Maybe a hearty casserole or a comforting soup.”

“Sounds perfect. What kind of pie would be good?”

“Blueberry goes perfect with casseroles.” Bridget’s phone pinged, and she looked at it. “That’s Holden. He’s going to swing by. Says he has some information on the Webster case.”

Jo’s eyes grew distant as she reflected on the long journey that had brought her to White Rock. The search for their missing sister, Tammy, had consumed her for years. Now, with the killer caught and the FBI excavating the grounds where she had buried her victims, Jo felt a mix of emotions.

Bridget reached across the bar, her hand resting on Jo’s arm. “When they find Tammy...” Her voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Jo met her sister’s gaze, a grim understanding passing between them. “It’s going to be hard,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like ripping the wound open all over again.”

Bridget nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But it will also bring closure. We’ll finally know what happened to her.”

Jo took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You’re right. It’s just... It’s been so long.”

“I know,” Bridget said, squeezing Jo’s arm. “But we’ll get through it together.” A moment of silence stretched between them before Bridget spoke again. “I was thinking... I’d like to do something special for Kevin. He really went above and beyond to help us with that case.”

Jo nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “He did. He saved the day.” She paused, studying her sister’s face. There was a softness in Bridget’s eyes when she spoke of Kevin, a hint of something more than gratitude. Jo decided not to press the issue, at least not now.

Jo’s brow furrowed as she turned to Bridget. “You know, as grateful as I am to Kevin, there are still some things that don’t quite add up.”

Bridget’s shoulders tensed. “What do you mean?”

“That thumb drive he had. Where did he get it? And don’t you think it’s weird that it led straight to the Webster property?”

Bridget’s eyes narrowed. “It is kind of weird, but I’m sure it’s not anything nefarious. Didn’t seem like it was from what I could tell.”

Jo decided to let the matter drop, at least for now. “You’re probably right. My cop’s mind thinks everything is suspicious.”

Bridget laughed. “You can say that again.”

Jo smiled, eager to change the subject. “So, about doing something special for Kevin... I have an idea.”

Bridget raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Why don’t you make a double batch of whatever you’re planning to cook for Garvin? I’m sure Kevin would appreciate a home-cooked meal. He’s a single guy and probably doesn’t get that very often.”

Bridget’s face lit up, a smile spreading across her features. “That’s a great idea! I could make a big batch of that casserole and drop some off at the station.”

Jo nodded, pleased to see her sister’s enthusiasm. “He’d love that. And it would be a nice way to show your appreciation without making a big fuss.”

Jo felt a presence behind her, and her shoulders tensed.

“Evening, ladies,” Sam said, sliding onto the stool next to her. “Mick’s on his way. Said he had to make a quick stop first.”

Mick was Sam’s childhood friend, now a private detective, whom they used sometimes to dig into things that were best done through unofficial channels.

Jo relaxed, taking a sip of her beer. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I was ready to go for my gun.”

Sam simply raised a brow and ordered his favorite Moosenose beer.

“Anything new?” Jo asked.

“I stopped by Henley’s office and asked him to expedite the warrant for those surveillance tapes,” Sam said, accepting the beer the bartender placed in front of him.

Jo raised an eyebrow. “How’d that go?”

“He said he’d do it, but he seemed a bit hesitant. Not sure what that’s about.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite crime-fighting duo.” Mick appeared behind them, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

Sam chuckled, gesturing for Mick to take a seat. “Glad you could make it.”

Jo leaned in, her voice low. “Wyatt and Kevin were still hard at work when I left, but they’ve probably gone home by now. Reese contacted her friend, so we should have more information tomorrow.”

Sam nodded, his expression growing serious. “Listen, Mick, we need your help with something.”

Mick leaned forward, his eyes glinting with interest. “I’m all ears.”

In hushed tones, Sam and Jo filled Mick in on the details of the case, explaining the potential connection to the decades-old bank robbery. Mick listened intently, his brow furrowing as he processed the information.

“We need you to dig into Eric Feldman’s background,” Jo said, her voice barely above a whisper. “See if you can find anything that might tie him to the robbery or to Alex Sheridan’s death.”

Mick nodded, his expression determined. “I’m on it. I’ll see what I can uncover.”

Sam glanced around. The bar was getting a bit crowded, and he didn’t want anyone to overhear them discussing police cases. “What do you say we get a table? That one in the corner looks good.”

As the group settled into a corner table, Holden Joyce joined them, his expression grim. He slid into the booth next to Mick, his eyes darting around the room to ensure no one was within earshot.

“I’ve got some news from my FBI contacts,” Holden said, his voice low. “They’ve been excavating the Webster property, and they’ve found more bodies.”

Jo’s heart sank, her stomach twisting with dread. “And Tammy?”

Holden shook his head. “They haven’t found a match for the DNA samples you and Bridget provided.”

Bridget’s hand found Jo’s under the table, squeezing it tightly. Jo returned the gesture, drawing strength from her sister’s presence.

“But there’s something else,” Holden continued, his brow furrowing. “Not all the bodies are children. Some are adults.”

A heavy silence settled over the table as they processed this information. Sam was the first to speak, his voice rough with emotion. “What does that mean? Was Hazel Webster killing people of all ages?”

“Or was there another killer?” Mick added, his eyes narrowing.

Holden sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s too early to say. The FBI is still processing the scene, trying to identify the victims and determine the cause of death. They think there are more bodies.”

Jo’s mind raced with the implications. If there was another killer, someone who had been working with or alongside Hazel Webster, it meant that the danger might not be over. There could still be someone out there, someone who had escaped justice.

“What does Hazel say?” Jo asked.

Holden shrugged. “She’s acting like she has no idea about any of it.”

“She confessed to us!” Jo said.

“Well, now, she’s playing dumb. Probably trying to get an insanity plea.” Holden sighed.

“What do we do now?” Bridget asked, her voice small.

Holden met her gaze, his expression softening. “The FBI has the resources, expertise, and jurisdiction to deal with this, so we let them handle it. For now.”