“I wouldn’t. She’s got enough on her mind.”
“Fair enough. What about you? Any more goons I need to add to my list of people to hunt down when this is all over?”
Matt chuckled. “No. I sometimes see a familiar looking car but then, right as I start to worry, I’ll see the driver and realize that it’s not one of his men. Or, goons, as you would say.”
“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like O’Keefe has quite an army built up. How can you be sure he’s not changing drivers every few days? It’s not like we’re dealing with an amateur here.”
“I suppose that could be the case. But no one has approached me and since changing the office over to an answering service, the nasty phone calls have stopped. What about you guys? I know you can’t tell me much, but no more problems?”
“Nope. There’s no way in hell they can find us.”
“Glad to hear. Well, we better wrap this up. Send my best to Melissa and give Jackson a high five or whatever it is kids his age like to do.”
I laughed. Matt was definitely a ladies’ man but had no interest in children—whether they belonged to him—or someone else. “I will. Take care of yourself and call me if anything changes. I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole thing blew up in the next couple of weeks.”
“I agree. Something’s gotta give. O’Keefe can’t cover his tracks forever.”
I held back the argument that men with O’Keefe’s resources actually could cover their tracks forever. It wouldn’t help and Matt needed to have my vote of confidence. Not my paranoid anxiety.
We said goodbye and I pocketed the phone before going back down the shore and into the cottage. As soon as I stepped inside, Jackson came flying at me, a plate of pancakes hoisted over his head. “Hot off the grill!”
Melissa laughed softly. “Griddle, Jackson. The grill is what we use for the giant fish that you’re going to catch me later today.”
I laughed and took the plate from Jackson before he ended up wearing a pancake top hat. “Thanks, buddy. What do we have today?”
“Peanut butter and chocolate chips with a banana I picked from the tree out back.” He balled his hands and set them on his hips, puffing out his chest with pride.
“Whoa, sounds amazing! These might knock blueberry out of first place.” Since settling down at the cottage, both Melissa and I had worked to find ways to keep Jackson active. Each day consisted of little routines and traditions that kept him happy and content without other kids or the usual entertainment he was used to from his life in California.
Each morning started with a pancake feast, as the ingredients were easily accessible and quick to make. Not to mention they were delicious. Jackson had taken it upon himself to come up with a new recipe every few days for us to try.
I took my plate of pancakes into the dining room and sat down opposite Melissa who still had a full plate in front of her. She caught me watching her and looked down at her short stack with renewed interest. But when she cut a small triangle from the stack, I thought I saw her grimace ever so slightly.
“Did you talk to Matt?” she asked before forcing down a bite of her breakfast.
“Yeah. I just got off the phone with him. Not much to report, unfortunately.” I glanced over at Jackson who was still in his pajamas. “Hey buddy, if we’re gonna get a jump on the fish you better go get dressed.”
He hopped up and scampered down the short hallway to his room and seconds later I heard the door click closed.
“Is there something I need to know?” Melissa asked, setting down her fork.
I leaned against the table and braced myself on my elbows. “His lawyer responded to the divorce papers and asked for an extension. But as Matt just explained to me, that doesn’t mean anything except they’ll put your court date on a calendar. I’m assuming Matt can stand in on the preliminary stuff for you and Jackson, no?”
“Yeah, I think. I wonder why Henry postponed it. Probably so he can get his thugs riled up. Asshole.”
She raised her eyes to mine and I wanted to read her thoughts. I considered her for a long moment, debating what to say. She cut off my thoughts, “Chase, I thought you promised to shoot straight with me? Just tell me what Matt said.”
“Henry’s got the FBI on his ass in regards to his resort property in Stallion Bay. More specifically, the way he went about getting his permits.”
Melissa shook her head, clearly not understanding the situation. My hope that she might have some dirt on Henry we could pass along to the FBI quickly evaporated. “Permits? Why would the FBI care about Henry’s permits? That sounds like something the county or maybe the state would be interested in. Not the feds.”