Chapter Six

The patrons of Crestlake Bar Grill were reveling in their Friday night freedom after a grueling workweek. Every table, chair, and stool was occupied by individuals eager to unwind and let loose. The air was alive with the sound of laughter, glasses clinking together in celebration, and silverware clanking against plates as delicious food was devoured. The lively chatter and upbeat music from the live band drowned out the usual peaceful existence surrounding the lake.

As Theo closed the distance to the bar, his presence was observed by the bartender. Chip lifted a hand and gestured toward the side entrance. Theo nodded his appreciation before advancing in that direction. He didn't have to walk far, though. A young man clutching an empty gray container emerged from around the corner toward what had to be the only empty table on the pier.

"Jason Bracco?" Theo had made sure to hold up his credentials. He didn't react at all when Jason's gaze was drawn to the black eyepatch. "I'm Theo Neville, and I work for a private investigative firm. We're consulting with the FBI on an active investigation. I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding an altercation that happened here last weekend."

"You're talking about Mary Jane," Jason said with a nod of understanding. His gaze drifted toward a table. Theo had already been made aware that Mary Jane and her sister had planned an evening out with their friends. The media presence had died off, and she was now going about her daily routine with a lot more followers. Brook spoke to Mary Jane this afternoon on the phone to clarify some information. "After that video she posted the other day, that's all anyone can talk about. Are you thinking the drunk guy that hit on her killed those other women?"

"We're just gathering information," Theo explained, purposefully keeping his response vague. He slipped his credentials back into the pocket of his khakis. "Would you walk me through what happened last weekend?"

"A guy got a little handsy with some of the ladies, and a few of the other customers escorted him to the parking lot. I helped, but only to make sure that the guy didn't get into his car," Jason explained as he continued to load the dirty dishes into the gray container. "The owners have a strict policy about not allowing our patrons to drink and drive if we believe they've had one too many."

"I take it that Mary Jane Reynolds is a regular here?" Theo asked, wanting a little more background. "What about her fiancé?"

"Mary Jane is usually here with her sister and friends. Usually on a Saturday night. There is a local bar in town that a lot of people go to on Friday evenings." Jason reached for the empty glasses. "As for Adam, not so much. I think he travels a lot for his job."

"It sounds like you know them pretty well," Theo observed as he shifted his stance so that he had a better view of the patrons. No one seemed particularly interested in Mary Jane's table. "Are you a local?"

"Born and raised," Jason said, though not with pride. "Went to college, got a job in Lansing, and then was laid off six months later. I had no choice but to move back home."

"It's not easy out there," Theo said in commiseration before steering the conversation back to the topic at hand. "What about the man you helped escort to the parking lot? Is he a local?"

"No," Jason said with a shake of his head. He took the wet rag that had been hanging over the side of the gray bucket and began to wipe down the table. "Vacationer. He kept complaining about the drivers between here and Mount Pleasant. Made it sound like he had dodged bullets rather than slow cars on his way to Crestlake. He was a bit dramatic, but it was probably the alcohol talking. Hunter might know more."

"Hunter?"

"Hunter Darrisaw. He and Mindy served the tables last Saturday night." Jason motioned toward a young woman setting two plates of food down in front of a couple. "Hunter has the night off, though. He got tickets to the comedy club in town."

Theo made a mental note to speak with Hunter at a later date.

"Was the intoxicated patron by himself?"

"Yeah." Jason tossed the rag on top of the dirty dishes, but he made no move to pick up the gray bucket. "Come to think of it, I found it odd that he chose to sit at one of the tables instead of the bar."

"Do you know if Mary Jane was already seated at her table? Or did she and her party arrive afterward?"

"I couldn't tell you, man."

"Did the guy pay for his drinks with cash or card?"

"I'm not sure." A crease formed between Jason's brows as he clearly fought for a memory that was within countless of interactions that he had on a daily basis. "Actually, I"m not sure. You would have to check with Hunter or Chip. Mindy was working last weekend, but I don't think the guy sat in her section. You can ask her, though."

"Thanks, Jason." Theo reached into his other pocket to collect one of his business cards. He extended his hand, offering Jason his contact information. "If you think of anything else that sticks out to you, give me a call. Also, if the guy comes back here, I'd really appreciate it if you gave me a heads-up."

"No problem," Jason said as he took the card. He glanced at the information before tucking the card into the pocket of his jeans underneath his waist apron. "I hope you find out who murdered those women."

After Jason picked up the dirty dishes and disappeared around the corner, Theo turned toward the bar. The thumping bass from the speakers in front of the live band pulsated through the wooden planks beneath his feet. All the stools were taken, so Theo leaned against the end of the counter while waiting for a chance to speak with the waitress. He would have asked Chip about the payment from last Saturday, but the bartender was busy pouring drinks and exchanging banter with those at the bar. The opportunity to speak with Mindy finally came when she walked up to the bar.

"Do you have a takeout order?" Mindy asked as she set her tray on top of the bar. "We're slammed tonight, but I can help you."

"How many servers usually work on a Thursday night?"

"Three," Mindy replied before walking around to the side entrance. It wasn't long before she appeared with two bags of food and a drink carrier. "Neville, right?"

"That's right," Theo said as he checked the number of containers inside the bags. Once he was confident that their entire order had been included, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He shoved another ten-dollar bill into the tip jar. "Theo Neville. A colleague and I were here yesterday, talking to Chip about the altercation that happened last weekend. My firm is consulting with the FBI on an investigation, and Jason said that you might have waited on the guy who was escorted to the parking lot."

"Hard to forget the asshole who put his hand on my ass," Mindy muttered in disgust. "He hasn't been back, either. I didn't serve him, though. Hunter had that privilege."

"Do you happen to know if the guy paid by credit card or cash? We're looking for a name."

"Why?" Mindy asked as she made no move to exit the bar area. As a matter of fact, she leaned her forearms against the counter with interest. "Did he rob a bank or something?"

"You didn't see Mary Jane's video, did you?" Chip asked as he set two cocktails on Mindy's tray. "The Feds are investigating those murders that are connected, and these guys are helping out."

"I've been in class all week," Mindy complained as she turned to Chip. "What murders?"

"There were three women living in Michigan, all named Mary Jane Reynolds. They were stabbed to death. The Mary Jane who lives in Crestlake posted a video about it, and she gained enough attention that the Feds have taken over the murder investigations."

Theo remained silent, allowing Chip to fill Mindy in on all the details. Oftentimes, personal conversations let things slip that could be beneficial to a case. Unfortunately, the only piece of information that Theo had picked up on was that Mindy was a college student with a busy schedule.

"And you think that the guy who put his hand on my ass could have killed those women?" Mindy asked in disbelief, turning her attention back to Theo.

"I didn't say that," Theo assured her. "I'm merely trying to find out if he paid by cash or credit card."

"Credit card. I saw him hand the card to Hunter, because right afterward, the guy noticed the group of women sitting at the table next to his."

Theo hid his frustration. A warrant would need to be granted to get his hands on those receipts. While Mindy offered up more information, Theo unclipped his phone from the case attached to his belt. He constructed a quick email with the information and sent it to Sylvie.

"You wouldn't happen to have those receipts here, would you?" There was no harm in asking if the employees would give up the receipts voluntarily. "Or, by chance, remember the man's name?"

"I'm pretty sure Randy takes home all the money and receipts on a nightly basis," Mindy replied as she flashed a smile toward Chip when he set a draft beer down on the tray next to the two cocktail drinks. "Randy and his brother, Todd, own the place. They come by around eleven o'clock every night to cash out. As for remembering the guy's name, I think it might have been Dave or Dan. Maybe Dale. I just remember his name starting with D."

Theo's phone vibrated against his thigh. Mindy left her position behind the bar, but she eventually came around to collect the drinks.

"You've been extremely helpful, Mindy. Thank you."

"I hope you catch the guy."

Theo waited until Mindy had walked away before checking his phone. Sylvie had replied to his text that Bit had located the driver who had taken a passenger by the name of Daniel Callaghan to a lake house located twenty minutes away.

No warrant was needed, and Sylvie had already put in for a background check. Once the report came in, Brook would almost certainly pay the man a visit first thing in the morning.

Theo carried the two takeout bags in one hand while holding the cup holder in the other. He scanned every table and patron on his way out, not noticing anyone out of place. No male subject seemed to be alone, and no one appeared to be focused on Mary Jane Reynold's table. Theo wasn't concerned that he would miss anything since Bit was keeping close tabs on the security footage gathered by the camera pointed toward the pier.

Whether or not Daniel Callaghan turned up any red flags, Theo would be taking a two-hour drive to Mount Pleasant tomorrow morning after dropping Sylvie off at a rental car center. She was adamant that she be the one to personally interview the family of Mary Two.

"Excuse me."

Theo had just stepped off the pier and onto the path that led in the direction of the lake house. An older woman maybe in her late fifties stood in front of him with her phone in hand. On the display was a picture of Brook and Theo from an old article posted online during a previous case.

"You're Theo Neville, aren't you? From SE Investigations?"

"Yes, ma'am," Theo replied cautiously as he glanced around the parking lot. He spotted a man standing near a vehicle with a Michigan license plate. It was obvious that the man had accompanied the woman to the restaurant. "How may I help you?"

"We saw on Mary Jane Reynold's social media that she would be at the Crestlake Bar Grill this evening, so we took the chance that someone from your firm would be here, as well," the woman replied before glancing over her shoulder. She looked vaguely familiar. "That's my husband."

Once she was satisfied that her spouse was nearby, the woman turned her attention back to Theo. He wasn't thrilled that Mary Jane was posting her locations on social media. Such foolish action could end up getting her killed, which meant that someone from the team would need to have a conversation with her sooner rather than later.

"What can I do for you, Mrs…"

"Reynolds. Mary Jane Reynolds," she replied as tears filled her eyes. Theo realized immediately that he was speaking with the Mary Jane who resided in the northern part of the state. She must have cut her hair recently, because the photograph on file depicted her with long hair. "My husband and I are from Petosky, and I think someone has been following me for the past week. I'm frightened, Mr. Neville. I think I'm the killer's next target."