Chapter Eight

A cool breeze made its way across the small lake, ruffling the surface of the water. The small house that Daniel Callaghan had rented for the week had been built at an angle, affording any visitors a picturesque scene of a small pier and a fishing boat. The temperature was set to hit the mid-seventies later this afternoon, but a storm front was blowing in from the west. The threat of rain could be the reason why the group of friends had decided not to get in one last day of fishing before their flights home tomorrow.

Brook"s black kitten heels crunched against the gravel path as she approached the front of the house. She stepped onto the porch, but there were no railings surrounding the worn wooden planks. Someone had left the inside entrance open to allow fresh air to infiltrate the screened door. She raised her hand and rapped her knuckles on the thin frame.

As Brook waited for either Daniel Callaghan or one of his friends to make an appearance, she replayed her conversation with the federal agent leading the search for Stella Bennett's remains. Special Agent Dever had spoken of new methods, recent technology, and the latest equipment to accomplish the task at hand. She wasn't one to hope, knowing how futile such a gesture could be in the grand scheme of life, but she couldn't deny her impatience to follow through with her promise to ensure Jacob was punished for his crimes.

A promise that she had made to her brother's victims, their families, and herself.

"May I help you?"

The man who greeted her through the screen door was not Daniel Callaghan. His driver's license and social media pictures depicted blue eyes, a rather flat nose, and a square jaw with an unkempt beard. The male subject standing before her had slightly wavy brown hair, matching eyes, and angular features. He also wore a designer watch that probably cost more than Daniel Callaghan's annual salary.

"My name is Brooklyn Sloane." She already had her credentials in hand, so she held up the identification for him to view. He appeared more interested in her sidearm, which had become visible as she held up her hand. "I'm with SE Investigations, and we are consulting with the FBI on a murder investigation. I was hoping to speak with Daniel Callaghan. Is he here right now?"

By this time, the man had used one hand to open the door and keep it that way for her to enter. She didn't appreciate that he remained in place, making it necessary for her to brush past him with mere inches separating their bodies.

"Dan is upstairs packing for his flight home. I'm a friend of his—Cav Buckley." Cav held out his hand before holding hers longer than necessary. Brook didn't break eye contact. "Did you say that you're investigating a murder?"

"Murders," Brook corrected as she took time to study the layout of the lake house. Oddly enough, the walls were painted a deep charcoal. The dark décor included a smattering of antique furnishings, a leather couch with matching chairs, and mahogany bookshelves positioned on either side of the river-rock fireplace. The masculine interior catered toward fishermen and hunters. "Would you please let Mr. Callaghan know that I'm here?"

"Sure, sure," Cav replied with a crooked smile. He gestured toward the sitting area in the living room. She advanced toward the couch, keeping her credentials in hand. "You said you're with the FBI?"

Brook turned back to face him, though she had not technically ever taken her attention off him. There was something about his interest in her and the case that made her uneasy.

"My firm and I are consulting with the Bureau on an investigation," Brook reiterated as she remained standing in front of the couch. "I'd rather not say anything more until I speak with Mr. Callaghan."

"Of course," Cav stated casually as he turned his head. "Dan! You have a visitor!"

Cav's voice echoed around the room, and Brook was certain that Daniel had heard his friend. A subtle tension settled over the room. She wasn't about to give Cav the attention that he so desired at the moment. There was a suitcase near the bookcase, but she didn't believe the piece of luggage belonged to Cav Buckley. No one who wore such an expensive watch would own cheap luggage.

The sound of footsteps could be heard descending the staircase.

"Did they find my sunglasses?" Dan called out before his loafers hit the main level. His eyes narrowed when he correctly sensed that her visit had nothing to do with lost sunglasses. "Sorry. I thought one of the renters along the lake found my sunglasses. How can I help you?"

"Brooklyn Sloane," Cav introduced, apparently staying for the upcoming conversation. He had widened his stance and even crossed his arms. "She's working with the FBI on some murder investigation."

"Murder?" Dan's eyebrows raised with disbelief. "Why do you want to speak with me?"

"You had dinner and some drinks at the Crestlake Bar Grill last weekend," Brook stated as she studied Daniel Callaghan. He had crossed the room and motioned for her to take a seat on the couch. She accepted the invitation after tucking her credentials into the side pocket of her purse. "I was hoping you could walk me through the evening."

Cav, who had been watching the exchange from a respectful distance, finally made his way over. Seeing as Brook had taken the first cushion of the couch, she had done so while making sure there was very little space between her knees and the coffee table. She had also placed her purse on the middle cushion.

"Dan," Cav said with a laugh. "What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing," Daniel replied defensively, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He opened his hands, palms facing Brook, while he attempted to explain himself. "I was drunk—more than I should have been. Look, Ms. Sloane, there is no excuse for my behavior last Saturday night. I was eventually escorted to the parking lot where a driver brought me back here. I walked to the pier the next morning and picked up my rental car. That's all. I didn't hurt anyone, and I certainly didn't kill anyone."

"Trust me, Dan has trouble gutting a fish," Cav spoke up as he walked over to stand next to his friend. Cav even patted Dan's shoulder in support, although it was clear to Brook that Dan didn't appreciate the character analysis. "I have to ask…is this about Mary Jane Reynolds? We were all talking about her video earlier this week. It's crazy that three women named Mary Jane Reynolds were murdered across the state of Michigan. Was the one who posted the video killed? Is that why you're here?"

"The Mary Jane Reynolds who posted the video is alive and well, but she was the one you interacted with last Saturday, Mr. Callaghan." Brook had spoken directly to Daniel. She came very close to requesting Cav Buckley leave the room. One, she didn't appreciate his repeated attempts to insert himself into the conversation. Second, she genuinely didn't care for his demeanor. "You should know upfront that you are not a suspect. We're aware that you have been working in Detroit on a contracted job through your company for the past six months."

"You could have led with that," Dan replied with a sigh of relief as he leaned back in his chair. He smoothed down the sides of his beard, though nothing was going to tame the mangy hairs. "Why are you here then? If you know that I had nothing to do with the murders, why seek me out?"

"Did you notice anyone paying special attention to Miss Reynolds last Saturday night?" Brook had intentionally not led with the information Bit had given her earlier this morning regarding Dan's alibis. In times of stress, she found that a person's coping mechanism often led them to divulge details that they may not have remembered otherwise. "Maybe someone at the bar? On one of the boats?"

"I had a lot to drink that night," Dan admitted once more as if he relied on that excuse a lot. "Look, I'm going through a real nasty divorce and—"

"That's an understatement," Cav interjected before inadvertently handing her more information about his life. "I'm his divorce attorney. You should see the list of demands that—"

"Were you drunk when you arrived at the pier?" Brook asked Dan, never taking her gaze off him. "I'm assuming you didn't start drinking until you sat at a table. Something about Miss Reynolds caught your attention, though."

"Well, she and her boyfriend didn't seem too happy." Dan appeared hesitant to give up such information, but when Brook didn't alter her expression, he relaxed enough to continue. "The guy was at the bar most of the night."

"That guy is Miss Reynolds' fiancé. Would you mind clarifying exactly what took place between them?"

"Only you would hit on a woman about to get married," Cav said with another short laugh. "And one in the crosshairs of a killer to boot. You take home the prize this time around, Dan."

"About halfway through my dinner, the two of them started arguing about how much she was drinking," Dan responded, ignoring his friend. "She got mad, they exchanged words, and the guy walked over to the bar. He sat on a stool most of the night while she enjoyed time with her friends."

"How many people were at the table?" Brook inquired with curiosity. She made a mental note to speak with Mary Four later in the day. There was a good chance that someone in her group of friends had taken notice of someone suspicious hanging around for the past couple of weeks. "Three? Four?"

"Five, if you count her fiancé."

"Getting back to my initial inquiry, did you notice anyone paying special attention to Miss Reynolds?"

"No."

"Did anyone else interact with the individuals at the table?"

"Mostly just the glances from other folks when the two of them were arguing, but nothing out of the ordinary." Dan paused, as if recalling specific details of that night were difficult. Brook shot a warning glance in Cav's direction when he almost certainly would have filled the void. "One of the other women at the table joined the guy at the bar, though. She had light brown hair that came to her chin."

Brook wouldn't be able to confirm the identity of the woman until a conversation was had with Mary Four, but Dan had described Cindy Reynolds. She had brown hair with blonde highlights, causing the strands to appear light brown in nature. She was most likely trying to mend the argument between her sister and Adam.

"I appreciate your time this morning, Mr. Callaghan." Brook stood as she pulled a business card from the pocket in her blazer. She held it out for him to take. "If you think of anything else from that night, I would appreciate a phone call."

Daniel had followed her lead, pushing himself out of the chair. He perused the information on the card before tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. The differences between the two men were substantial, and Brook was curious as to the other occupants of the house.

"Just to confirm, you were alone at the Crestlake Bar Grill last weekend, correct?"

"Yeah," Dan replied with a nod, gesturing toward his friend. "Cav couldn't join us until Monday. Steve's flight was delayed a day by those fires out West, and he didn't arrive until Sunday afternoon. Steve and I have flights out tonight, while Cav doesn't drive home until tomorrow."

"Steve lives on the West Coast?" Brook asked casually as she began to make her way toward the front door. She had caught sight of the kitchen behind Cav, noting the stack of poker chips and two decks of cards on the table. "I heard some areas had to evacuate."

"Steve lives north of the fire, but the heavy smoke closed most of the airports." Cav had chosen to answer her questions and follow behind her, basically inserting himself between her and Dan. "Listen, since I'm going to be in town until tomorrow, would you care to have a drink with me?"

"I'm going to have to decline, Mr. Buckley." By the time that Brook had finished her sentence, she was mere inches from the screen door. She turned to find Cav's dark eyes fixed on the lower part of her body. She purposefully cleared her throat until his gaze met hers. "Enjoy the rest of your stay."

Brook gave a respectful nod toward Dan, who stood maybe ten feet away from his friend. The screen door closed with a soft click behind her. There were no shadows on the ground since the sun was currently tucked behind the overhead clouds. It seemed as if the storm front had moved in faster than the meteorologists had predicted, but she figured she still had about half an hour before the rain arrived.

She had already reached into her purse and pulled out the key fob. Once she had unlocked the van, she opened the driver's side door, discreetly taking in her surroundings. Dan had mentioned that Cav was driving home tomorrow, and one of the two vehicles in the driveway happened to be a rental car, leaving the other one with Michigan plates to belong to Cav Buckley.

Brook had set her purse on the passenger seat. Her phone was in the side pocket, and she was able to retrieve it with little fuss. She accessed her speed dial list and gently pressed down on Bit's name. It wasn't a surprise when he answered on the first ring.

"I need you to run a background check for me," Brook said as she started the engine. Cav Buckley was still observing her from behind the screen door. The way he had interjected himself into the conversation had left her uncomfortable with his interest. She rattled off the man's license plate number. "It's probably nothing, but I want everything you can find on Cav Buckley. Oh, and a male subject named Steve joined Callaghan and Buckley for the week. I'd like a background check run on him, too."

"Anything else, Boss?"

"Yes," Brook replied slowly as she thought over the details that Daniel had given her from last weekend. "Adam Bouras. I read over his background check last night, but would you mind conducting a deeper dive on social media? I'd like to know exactly how dedicated he is to his fiancé."