Page 45 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“Maybe you could get your hands on Bethany’s phone records,” Lucien prompted. “That would be a major help.”

From his truck, Birk offered, “If we had those, I could tap into Keith’s or Felix’s cell phone records and see if the two phones crossed paths that Sunday morning.”

“Fine. But that’s why I’m asking for time. Give me twenty-four hours to see what I can put together before you return to the winery.”

“Twenty-four hours,” Lucien repeated. “And then, we’re going back to Noir Hills Estates.”

14

The four regrouped inside the Sutter’s living room, opening their laptops and spreading out on the sofa and loveseat. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so Brogan fixed spinach dip and served it with crackers while Lucien threw together grilled cheese sandwiches.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon reviewing county tax records, trying to determine who owned the vineyard.

The tax assessor’s website listed the owners under three companies with overseas addresses where the tax bills were sent. Researching each company online ended with post office boxes for addresses in cities like London, Tokyo, and Shanghai.

While Birk linked several offshore accounts to the Bahamas, tying them back to Noir Hills Estates, Lucien connected the addresses to three shell companies, uncovering a web of suspicious activities disguised as a high-end winery operation.

“Looks like we’ve stumbled on something much larger than we imagined,” Lucien muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

Birk nodded grimly. “This goes way beyond a simple case of fraud. We’re dealing with an elaborate scheme, set up with one purpose—money laundering.”

Brogan leaned over to snatch a cracker from the serving platter, her brow furrowed in concentration. “If Noir Hills Estates is just a front, we need to find out what illegal activities the Shepherd brothers are into that would require such sneaking around.”

“Drugs come to mind,” Lucien added. “Serious drugs like heroin or fentanyl. Keith Shepherd was known for dabbling in the local drug trade when he was with the force. There’s a possibility they might even manufacture the stuff onsite at the vineyard, then ship it overseas in containers marked as wine to one of Europe’s noted cartels.”

Brogan’s jaw clenched as she absorbed the information. “That would make the most sense. The Shepherd brothers aren’t just running a winery; they’re part of a much larger criminal network that stretches worldwide. And if that’s the case—”

“We need to tread carefully,” Birk warned. “If the person who tipped off the Shepherd brothers catches wind that we’re onto them, they’ll try to silence all of us.”

Jade, who had been quietly observing the unfolding revelations, spoke up. “But what does this have to do with Sam’s murder and Bethany’s disappearance? It’s not like Bethany showed up on their doorstep asking questions.”

“That’s just it. Bethany didn’t need to set foot near Ken’s winery to be in danger,” Brogan concluded. “Keith or Ken learned from someone inside law enforcement—an old friend maybe—that Bethany had been snooping into Connie Upland’s cold case. They decided she had to be paid off or eliminated.”

“More likely eliminated. These guys don’t seem to like parting with money,” Birk stated.

“That’s probably true. Either way, they made her disappear. And they decided Sam had to go when he showed up trying to find his sister.”

“It boils down to one thing. Bethany asked the wrong question and trusted the wrong person,” Lucien declared, suspicion burning in his eyes. “We should probably warn Trish. Otherwise, she could end up the same way. We did urge her to dig into the same files.”

“And Bethany’s phone records,” Brogan pointed out. “That could set off alarm bells to the wrong someone.”

“I’ll send her a text,” Jade offered, picking up her phone.

“No!” the other three shouted in unison.

“It’s best to leave a reply to Truthseeker22,” Birk suggested. “That way, we’re sure no one else reads her texts on her work cell phone or email messages using her official police account.”

Jade’s brow knitted in confusion. “Which blog post do I reply to then?”

“Go to your blog site,” Birk proposed. “Maybe ask her to email you directly using an email address no one knows about. Suggest she create a new one if necessary.”

“Once Trish replies to the initial comment, you’ll need to tell her what we discovered about the shell companies and offshore accounts,” Brogan said.

Typing furiously on her laptop, Jade posted the first reply to Truthseeker22 that read:Trust no one except those in your inner circle. Don’t use your work phone to send texts. Don’t use your usual email address. The wrong people are listening.

“That’s pretty good,” Brogan stated, re-reading the post. “That’s sure to get her attention. I only hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

“Let’s call in a pizza for dinner,” Birk suggested after hitting send. “Sleuthing makes me hungry. Dinner is on us. We’ve been mooching off you guys too often lately.”

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