I call Chance and set the phone to speaker mode.
“Where the fuck are you? That tractor’s not getting fixed without you,” he grumbles.
“I’ll fix anything that’s broken. Later. Listen, I’m with Sadie. Get Shankle on the horn and tell him to call the DOJ person who’s in charge of the case against Bridger Investments. Tell him it looks like Joey—Sadie’s brother—was working for some company called Racehorse Hauling.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “What are you thinking?”
“I think he was undercover for the EPA.”
Sadie gasps, her eyes wide. “That he was working for a trucking company because—”
“Because he was trying to find dirt on Jonathan,” I explain.
“And he was killed because someone found out,” Chance adds. “It’s possible. But why does the DOJ want to freeze our assets now? Jonathan’s dead. So’s Sadie’s brother.” He pauses. “Sorry, Sadie. I’m not trying to be insensitive.”
“It’s okay. Overwhelming, but it makes sense. I didn’t know about the investigation. Peterson definitely doesn’t.”
“Have Shankle call the person on the case,” I say. “I have a feeling it might be a guy named Chubb. Maybe they’re doing this to see if something about their missing agent comes up.”
“Or a dead body,” Chance replies grimly.
I look to Sadie, cup the back of her head. “Right. Maybe there isn’t any actual case, only them trying to find a missing one of their own.”
Chance sighs. “I like your thinking. I’ll call him right now.”
“We’re on our way back. Hopefully you’ll have news for us by the time we get there.”
I hang up and lean down to meet Sadie’s eyes. “You okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. Joey being with the EPA is good. Doesn’t make him any less dead, but I always wanted him to be a good guy.”
“I’m not sure if my thinking is on track or not, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. Too many flying parts for them not to be connected somehow.”
“I don’t want to share this with Peterson until…orifit pans out.”
“Only one way to find out.” I look at the house. “You want to say goodbye?”
She shudders. “Nope. It seems we both have shitty dads.”
20
SADIE
Milesand I don’t talk a lot on our way back to Bayfield, which is just as well. My mind is tumbling with facts and analyses, only everything is disjointed into words and phrases. I’m a good cop, a good detective. My thoughts aren’t usually this jumbled.
We grabbed any kind of papers and notebooks that were in boxes, leaving behind everything else, which I doubt is headed to the dump. That’d take too much effort for my father. I don’t want to miss a bit of evidence that might help find Joey’s killer.
When Miles pulls up in front of my place, I turn to him. “I don’t want to go in there.”
“Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“Can we go back to your place? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course, baby. But you know I have to talk to my brothers about what we learned today.”
“I know. I can deal.”
“No problem. I just thought you might want to be alone.”