Page 39 of A Deceitful Pact

“I’m afraid I can’t make those promises, but I can assure you that any information you give me will be handled professionally and on a need-to-know basis,” I explain, sensing that something is off, I’ve spoken to Mrs. Walsh many times and I’ve never seen her look so nervous.

“Okay.” She reluctantly opens her purse, taking out an old checked shirt, she places it on my desk. “I found this in my garage.”

I watch as she unfolds it and reveals a handgun and a mobile phone.

“Oh…” I stare at the unexpected items, trying not to look shocked. “...You say you found this, so I’m right in assuming none of these items belong to you/”

“No, but I can tell you who theydobelong to.” Her face turns red as she leans over my desk. “Billy McGee.” She whispers his name as if it’s a sin.

I remember the man’s name. He owns the cigar shop across the street, and Eleanor reported him missing a few months ago. Hayden assured me it was nothing to worry about, and when I spoke to a few of the locals, they all told me the same thing he did. That Billy is known for disappearing.

“And you're sure these are his?” I check.

“I’m sure.” She flicks her eyes away from mine, making me wonder if she’s telling me the whole story.

“Can you think of a reason why Billy would have kept a shirt, phone, and gun in your garage?” I question her.

“That’s a mystery I was hoping you would solve.” She raises her thinly drawn eyebrows sheepishly.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Just over four months ago, he came to my house, and he was wearing that shirt. It was the last time I saw him and the last time I heard from him.” She picks a handkerchief out of her purse and dabs the corner of her eye.

“Was he acting strange that night?”

“He was a little on edge, but nothing overly concerning. He took a call on that phone, and straight after, he said he had to leave. I had no idea he'd left this behind until yesterday when I was clearing out the garage. I thought the new neighbors could make use of some of Grahame’s old tools. There’s a lot of renovations over there to do, and his tools have only been collecting dust since he died.” She must notice me getting impatient because she hurries herself along. “Anyway, I found all this tucked in a corner behind a chainsaw.” Her eyes fall back to the items on my desk.

“Can I ask why Billy was at your house that night?”

“Will that remain confidential?” She stares back at me, looking dubious.

“As long as it’s legal.”

“A woman has needs, even a widow…we’ll say no more on the matter.” She clears her throat and holds her head high.

“I understand.” I smile, letting her know her secret's safe with me.

“Is there anything else you’ll need from me?” Mrs. Walsh looks eager to leave.

“Not right now. I’ll bag this up for evidence and relook at the missing person’s case. I may have some further questions at a later date.” I get up and make my way toward the door, but before I open it for her, something crosses my mind.

“Mrs. Walsh, I’d appreciate it if we could keep this strictly between us, just until I know what route I want to take with the investigation.” I think back to when the missing person’s case was logged and how Hayden acted. He was very insistent that he should be the one who handled it. And given what I know about my deputy’s out-of-hours activities, I should be wary. For all I know, Billy could be another victim of Jamie Sullivan's outlaw justice.

“I just hope it helps you find him.” She smiles sadly as I open the door and see her out. As soon as she’s gone, I close the door, flick the lock, and take some gloves from my drawer. Stretching them over my hands, I lift the phone from my desk and try turning it on. It may have been in Mrs. Walsh’s garage for some time, but you never know your luck, and luck seems to be on my side when it comes to life. I can pretty much confirm the phone belongs to Billy when the same image from the sign above the cigar shop door appears on the screen behind all the apps.

The phone has half a battery of charge, which suggests to me that whoever hid it made sure they turned it off. I press on the message app, and my luck runs out when the phone asks for a PIN number.

“Shit.” I place the phone down and think about my next move. I took my eye off the ball. I’ve been too distracted with the Gendrys and Sawyer to chase up anything about Billy's disappearance. It’s been months since anyone saw McGee, the likelihood of him being alive is very small. People don’t just vanish into thin air, despite what Hayden Chambers expected me to believe.

I’ve been careless and naïve, and now I need to find out the PIN number to this phone so I can solve the case.

I try a few of the obvious combinations, but none of them work, then I bring up his missing person’s report on my computer to find out his date of birth so I can try that. That doesn’t work either. I’m debating calling in a favour with one of my contacts from the Bureau when I notice something from the logo on his screen. Est. 1956 is written along the bottom of the old man smoking in a rocking chair. The McGees must have been in the business for a lot of years; surely that's something Billy would be proud of, and sure enough, typing in the numbers 1956 gets me access.

I scroll through his messages until I come to one that catches my interest. One that is sent to the contact named M. Gendry.

How much not to tell Jace Sullivan?

Below the message is a voice recording which, of course, I press so I can hear.

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