Chapter Twenty-Two Brigit

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: brIGIT

Rafe takes his time and walks me through that morning. He pulls out details I had forgotten. Like the mention of an incident the previous night.

"Any idea what he was talking about?"

I shake my head no. "I don't. But…"

"But what?"

"Hold on. I'll be right back."

I dash through the common room to Wildcard's room and retrieve my phone. As I run back out of the room, I smack into a brick wall, also known as Wildcard.

"What are you doing?"

"Rafe's questions reminded me of something I forgot. I received several voicemails while I was sleeping. More than usual. Since I don't work nights and weekends, staff members who do will leave me messages. I listen to them first thing when I arrive at work. But well…"

"Got it."

"I turned the phone off when I left Boston so they couldn't trace me, so I think it has power. But I should grab the charger, just in case."

"Wait. Don't turn it on yet. Go back to Puma's office. I'm going to grab Spark."

Nodding, I re-enter Puma's office.

"I brought my phone. There might be voicemails on it from the staff who worked that night. Wildcard went to get Spark. He doesn't want me to turn on the phone in case someone tries to track my location."

"Good thinking," Rafe says. "I finished typing up your statement and printed it out. Can you review it and sign it?"

I take it from him and read through it before taking the pen and signing at the bottom. As I finish, Spark and Wildcard join us and take seats at the table. I slide the paper back to Rafe.

"This is just for my records. I won't officially submit it. But I might refer to it when I speak with the FBI."

"Do you have a contact?" Wildcard asks as Spark whispers a request for me to unlock my phone.

"I called Pence and gave him a broad overview of what we're up against and asked if he knew anyone in the Organized Crime Division of the FBI. He's making some calls."

"Good," Wildcard says.

"Okay, we're set." Spark slides the phone back to me. "Go ahead."

I take the phone and scan the voicemails from that night. Most nights, I don't get any calls. However, on that night, I received six.

"Six messages," I tell them. "That's unusual."

"Play them," Rafe suggests.

"Ms. Jones, this is Marcia Green, the night receptionist. A police officer stopped by at the desk, asking to speak with the manager. I tried calling Mr. Calloway, but he isn't answering his phone. Neither is Mr. Perry. I'm not sure what to do. The cop is insisting on seeing Mr. Calloway immediately."

"Ms. Jones, this is Mark Granville, head of night security. We have a situation. There is a cop asking to speak with the manager, but we can't locate Mr. Calloway. The cop's name is Detective Mark Harding. He says he has a search warrant but won't show it to me. I've tried calling Mr. Perry… Wait, I see Mr. Perry now. Never mind, Ms. Jones. You have a nice evening."

"Ms. Jones, this is Maria Alcazar. I'm in housekeeping. I'm assigned to the conference rooms, but Mr. Perry told me not to clean Conference Room 210. He has the door barricaded and a security guard in front. I'm afraid he'll forget to tell my manager, so I left her a message. But, I want to make sure someone else knows, too. I can't lose my job."

The other three messages are from employees also looking for George.

"I don't understand," I say to Rafe. "Mike didn't work at night. That's George's shift. Why would he be there? Where was George?"

"All good questions. George is George Calloway. Correct?"

I nod. "He's the night manager."

"Could he have gotten sick and Perry came in to cover for him?"

I consider the suggestion and nod. "That's possible. What about the cop and the search warrant? Could this have been the cop Misha mentioned?"

"Maybe. I'll do some digging and see what I can learn," Rafe says.

"What about my employees? My former employees. Should I call them?"

Rafe and Wildcard share a look before Rafe says no. "Not a good idea to reach out to them right now. Not with Detective Sully in town and searching for you. I'll make some inquiries about the cop, Detective Harding and George Calloway."

"I could have Puma call Havoc. Havoc could figure out a reason to call this in. We have names to give him. He can reach out to them and find out more information. Maybe get them to call the cops. He can also follow up on this detective. Mark Harding? Havoc couldn't search for the cop Misha mentioned without a name. Especially if he was undercover. But now we have more information."

"Okay, that's a plan. Keep me posted if either of you finds anything. I'm going back to monitor Sully. Hopefully, I'll hear from Pence soon. Once I do, I'll contact Puma."

We stand to leave, but Rafe stops me. "Thank you for trusting me. I know you don't know me, but I won't betray you or the club. If I thought you were guilty, I'd still treat you with respect and work with you to turn yourself in. However, I know you're innocent. I'll do what I can to help you, which includes not tampering with the case. The BPD needs to find the actual killer. If they are unwilling, then I'm willing to do whatever it takes to force the FBI's hand."

"Thank you," I tell him and shake his hand.

Wildcard walks him out while I go in search of my father. I haven't spoken with him today and I'm curious to hear his take on his new road name. I chuckle when I think about the look on his face when Puma called it out. He always hated the name Preacher, but I'm certain he feels much too young to have everyone calling him Gramps. Even if he is technically a grandfather.

When I don't see him in the common room, I consider going to his bedroom and then realize I don't know which room is his. Before I ask, I push the door open to the kitchen and freeze.

My dad is standing at the counter chopping vegetables. Next to him is an older woman close to his age. I haven't met her yet, but I've seen her with Avery and Dice. I think she's her grandmother. Claudia. She's standing elbow-to-elbow with my father as she rolls out dough. He says something to her that makes her hip-check him. Then she reaches to a small bowl near her right hand and flicks flour at my dad. When he splutters in indignation, she breaks into giggles. He joins in before leaning over to kiss her cheek. That's when he sees me.

He turns and grins at me. "There's my little girl. How are you doing? Have you met Claudia?"

"I haven't, but I've heard great things about you," I say, offering my hand. She bypasses it and draws me in for a hug.

"You're Colt's momma, aren't you? He told me all about you. That little boy loves his momma, and he's so happy to have found his daddy."

I nod as I wipe away a stray tear. "Knowing he's happy means everything to me. I missed Wildcard and always wanted him to know his son. Plus, I get the bonus of finding my dad." Smiling at my father as he squeezes my arm. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?" I tease them.

"We're just getting to know each other," Claudia says. "The kids all call me Gramma. Now that they're calling him Gramps, we have to make sure we're a team or they'll play us off each other. Those kids are a force."

The look of affection my father gives Claudia settles another piece of my heart. He'd been alone for so long. First my mother left him, then I left him. Even if it hadn't been my choice. He spent years alone in prison. But now we're all together again. I just hope Puma and the others can fulfill their promise and clear me of the charges so we can stay together.