Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Even though it was barely two o'clock in the afternoon, a handful of cars were already lined up in front of Mulligan’s Pub when he pulled into the parking lot.

While Drew was interviewing the group of people Kristi had been playing pool with Tuesday night, I'd offered to come take a look at the footage.

Sawyer climbed from the car and headed inside, my gaze sweeping over the dim interior. Five men were seated at the bar while another two played pool in the room tucked off to the right side of the bar.

He nodded to the bartender who leaned her elbows on the bar and threw a smile his way. “What can I get ya?”

He waved off her offer. “I'm on the clock, Teagan, but thanks anyway. I'm here on business.”

“Oh?” Her head tipped slightly to one side. “Usually I hear if things got out of control.”

Mulligan’s had seen its fair share of fights, but that wasn't why he was here today. “I was actually wondering if you remembered someone who was in here last night.”

He pulled the paper from his pocket and unfolded it on the bar between us. The image of Brynlee had been pulled from her driver's license, and I watched Teagan study it for a moment before nodding. “I think I remember her, yeah. She was with another lady.”

He nodded, then folded up the photo and stowed it away again. “Was she drinking?”

“Wine, I think, but I can't remember which one. I could check the computer system.”

He waved off her offer. “Did she seem intoxicated?”

Teagan shook her head. “Not that I remember. I poured the wine for her, and she nursed that for while. It was busy, but I'm pretty sure she left soon after that.”

He flicked a glance at the ceiling where a tiny red light flickered sporadically inside a domed camera. He pointed upward. “That thing work?”

Teagan followed my gaze then nodded, brows drawn slightly together. “You need to see the footage?”

“If you've got it.” He didn't want to get his hopes up, but maybe there was something on there that could help him figure out what had happened last night and if someone had, in fact, slipped something into Brynlee’s drink.

“I'll need to check with Skye,”she said, referring to the bar’s manager.

“Whatever you need to do.”

Teagan checked on her customers before ducking into the back room. Less than three minutes later she was back. “Skye is on her way in. He said he'll get the footage for you.”

“No problem.” Sawyer slid onto a barstool to wait, and his gaze slid over the length of the bar.

His thoughts were interrupted as Mason strode through the doorway that connected the kitchen into the bar.

“Detective?”

Sawyer turned to face a petite brunette, then tipped his chin her way and slid off the stool. “That’s me.”

“Come on back.” She waved him around the bar, and he fell into step as she led the way through the kitchen to a small office. “Teagan said you wanted to review the footage from last night.”

“That's right.”

“Is there a specific time frame you're looking for?”

“Between eight and ten.” Skye closed the door behind them, then took a seat behind her desk while Sawyer dropped into the seat opposite her. “Can you tell me if the camera above the register captures the entire bar?”

“Most of it,” Skye replied. “Mind me asking exactly what you're looking for?”

“A young woman came in last night with a friend. They sat at the bar, had a glass of wine while they talked. She believes someone slipped something into her drink. I'm trying to figure out how it was administered.”

Skye’s lips flattened into a thin line. “Blonde?”

I nodded. “Do you remember her?”

“Yep. Stayed for about an hour and a half or so. Teagan poured their wine, and I checked on them again later, but they were already getting ready to leave.”

Same story as Teagan, then. “Did she seem intoxicated at all?”

Skye mulled it over for a second, then shook her head. “No, not unless she hid it really well.”

“Would you mind if I took a look at the footage?”

“Sure thing.”

Skye was silent for a moment as she fiddled with the computer monitor, then swiveled the screen toward Sawyer. The timestamp in the lower right corner showed it was 8:17. The camera was situated over the bar, and it had a decent view of the cash register and drink well, as well as several seats around the bar top.

The clock read 8:21 when Brynlee arrived and slid onto a stool next to Melanie. Another two minutes passed before Teagan slid the first wine in front of her. Sawyer watched as Melanie got up and casually walked away, presumably heading to the bathroom.

His eyes narrowed as a dark-haired woman, barely noticeable at first, slid onto the stool to Brynlee’s right. Brynlee turned to her, smiling and exchanging a few words.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the man who suddenly appeared at Brynlee's left. Tall, broad-shouldered, and far too close for comfort. Brynlee turned to him, her smile widening, and they started talking, her body language open and relaxed.

Jealousy flared in Sawyer’s chest, sharp and hot. He clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists as he watched the man lean in closer to Brynlee, their conversation seeming easy, almost intimate. He kept his eyes on the man, waiting for any sign that he was making a move, that he was the one responsible. But the man’s focus seemed to be solely on Brynlee, his posture relaxed, casual.

Sawyer was so intent on watching their interaction that he almost missed the slight movement from the side. He jerked upright. “Skye, rewind that.”

Skye quickly reached over, hitting the rewind button, and the footage rolled back to the moment just before the man appeared. Sawyer’s gaze flicked back to the brunette sitting behind Brynlee. This time, he watched her more closely. She was sipping her drink, her posture casual. Then, as Brynlee’s attention was on the man to her left, the woman’s hand moved, just slightly.

Sawyer leaned in, his heart pounding. The woman’s hand hovered over the bar, right near Brynlee’s wine glass. It was a subtle movement, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. She wasn’t holding anything noticeable, but the way her hand lingered, just for a second, was enough to set off alarm bells in Sawyer’s mind.

He watched as the woman’s fingers barely grazed the rim of the glass before she pulled back, sliding off the stool and disappearing into the crowd.

“Did you see that?” he asked, turning to Skye.

She frowned, replaying the footage again. “Yeah, but... I don’t recognize her. She was only here for a few minutes. Paid in cash.”

Sawyer cursed under his breath, frustration gnawing at him. He leaned forward, closer to the screen, trying to get a clearer look at the woman's face. Goddamn it. She had long, dark hair—just like the hair they’d found under Brynlee’s car.

The woman had planned it out, making sure to leave no trace, no easy way to track her down. But at least now he had something, a new lead to follow.

He abruptly pushed from the chair, his mind already racing through possibilities. “Thanks, Skye,” he said. “You’ve been a huge help.”

She nodded, her eyes full of concern. “I hope you find her, Sawyer. Brynlee doesn’t deserve this.”

Sawyer gave a curt nod, his thoughts too tangled to respond properly. He turned and left the bar, the night air cool against his heated skin.

There was no time to waste—he had to find out who this woman was and what she had done to Brynlee. And he wouldn’t rest until he had answers.

As soon as he slid inside, he yanked off his tie and tossed it onto the passenger seat. For a moment he sat there, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, lost in thought. Frustration coursed through every cell of his body. He wanted answers, damn it. Who the hell was this woman, and what did she want with Brynlee?

After the day from hell all he wanted to do was go home and chill. No, that wasn't true. What he wanted was to see Brynlee. It made no sense, and yet… She’d somehow burrowed under his skin. She drove him crazy as much as she turned him on, and he could admit that his life might have taken a turn for the better when he’d moved in next to the crazy little hippie.

That was a stretch. She wasn’t really a hippie. Just a little… eccentric. She was beautiful and smart, and she ran a successful business doing what she loved. He had to give her props for that. Not many people could pull it off, yet Brynlee managed to make it look easy.

He dug his phone from his pocket as he cranked the engine, then dialed up Bryn’s favorite Chinese joint. Twenty-five minutes later he pulled into his driveway and glanced over at her sedan, parked in front of her duplex. Good. She was home. He’d been slightly concerned she might still be at the salon, especially since she had a lot of repairs to get caught up on.

There was a bottle of wine in the fridge. A little formal for Chinese takeout, but what the hell. Striding up the walkway, he headed into his side of the duplex—and froze.