“You’re Thorne.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am.”
“Heard about the fire at Nessie’s.” His words slurred around the edges. “She and the kid okay?”
The question caught Jax off guard. He’d walked in here expecting aggression, not genuine concern. “They’re fine. No thanks to whoever set it.”
Trevor’s face crumpled. “Jesus. Someone really tried to... with the kid in there?”
“You tell me,” Jax said. “Where were you four nights ago, Trevor?”
“Here.” Trevor gestured weakly at his glass. “Ask Del. He cut me off around midnight, but I slept it off in my truck.”
Jax glanced toward the bartender, a grizzled man in his sixties whom he recognized from the night Oliver went missing. He’d been one of the people to stay until the end. “That true?”
Del nodded confirmation. “He’s been here every night for a month. Drunker than a skunk, crying into his beer about some girl.”
“What girl?” Jonah asked, sliding onto the stool on Trevor’s other side, his expression nothing but friendly concern. “Bailee?”
Trevor’s face went white. “I can’t... I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Well, that promise got voided when she died,” Boone said quietly. “Someone killed her, Trevor. And we think the same someone tried to burn down Nessie’s Place. So start talking.”
Trevor’s hands shook as he reached for his glass. “Yes, Bailee. We were... we were seeing each other.”
Shit. Trevor wasn’t their arsonist. He was just another victim.
“How long?” Jax asked.
“Three months. Maybe four.” Trevor’s voice cracked, and he met Jax’s gaze with damp, bloodshot eyes. “Ever since she started working for Craig. She was so… good. So bright, like sunshine. She made me want to be better, you know?”
Jax’s throat tightened. “Yeah, I know.”
Trevor exhaled a shaky breath and threw back the rest of his drink. “She made me promise to keep it secret. Said her ex was the jealous type, that he’d lose his shit if he found out she was with someone else.”
“Was it Foster?” Ghost asked.
“What? No!” Trevor seemed genuinely confused by that. “Craig’s happily married and would never cheat on his wife.” Realization dawned in his alcohol-glazed eyes. “Wait, do you think Craig killed her? No. No way. He liked her. Told me on more than one occasion that hiring her was the best decision he’d made in a long time. He was pissed when we found out what happened to her.”
“So then, who was her ex?” Jonah asked, still playing the part of the best friend and confidant.
Trevor blinked in his direction for a long moment like he was trying to bring his face into focus, then shook his head. “She wouldn’t tell me. Just said he was violent, that he’d hurt both of us if he knew. She was really scared of him.” Tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I should have pushed harder. Should have made her tell me. Maybe then I could have protected her.”
“That’s why you’ve been at Nessie’s every day,” Jax realized.
Trevor nodded miserably. “I couldn’t protect Bailee, but Nessie said she saw the killer’s truck. I thought if I watched her, I could make sure she stayed safe and find the bastard who did it. But I failed.” He buried his head in his arms on the bar and let out a sob. “I failed Bailee. I failed Nessie. I’m fucking useless.”
chapter
thirty-eight
By the timethey got back to the ranch, Oliver was waiting on the cabin’s front porch, practically vibrating with excitement. Echo sat beside him, her tail wagging as she watched their approach.
Jax climbed out of the truck. The whole ride, he’d mentally rehearsed how to present Oliver’s pets to him, wanting to get it right. Wanting to be the hero, just this once.
But of course whirlwind Oliver had other ideas.
“You found them!” He scrambled off the porch, moving toward Jax with such speed he nearly tripped. “You really found them all!”