Page 129 of Love Me Steadfast
The only people who know about what happened at Creekside besides Nic and his fixer are Morgan and Sally. Not even the therapist I saw knows his name. I didn’t doubt for one second Nic’s promise to ruin me if I went public, but the NDA spelled it out in detail. If Morgan or I ever leaked the truth about what he did, not only were we required to pay back the money Sally got us—money we used to buy Gudrun’s property and three hundred acres—but he would crush Boxcar Doves and any hope either of us had of performing music professionally.
But I can’t avoid talking to the FBI forever. And if I’ve had my head in the sand all these years while Nic continued to hurt other women…
When I reach the big foyer, I walk to the railing that overlooks the main floor entryway below and dial Special Agent Luke Ballard’s number.
“Charlotte?” he answers, his tone brisk, but with that hint of warmth I recognize from his message. “Thanks so much for calling me back.”
“Of course.”
“Did William fill you in on what I’m working?”
“A little.” One of the nearby elevators dings, and several women in blue scrubs shuffle in, each of them holding a paper coffee cup.
“Your dad ran The Limelight for almost thirty years,” Luke says as the elevator doors close. “That must have made for an interesting childhood.”
“I suppose.” He doesn’t really want this story, does he?
“And you’re a professional musician now?”
“Yes, I earned a music degree from Cornish. I’m auditioning for a permanent position with the Seattle Symphony.” My stomach jolts. I skipped my rehearsal window at Crosby’s this morning.
“How difficult is that?” Luke asks.
I laugh. “Extremely. It can take years of trying, and even the most talented musician might not make it.”
“I wish you the best of luck, then.”
I lean my back against the railing. “Thank you.”
“You and your sister Morgan have played at The Limelight, correct?”
“Yes.”
“But Boxcar Doves is no longer together?”
“That’s right. Three years ago was our last show. At The Limelight, actually.”
“Did something happen?”
Unease slides down my spine. “We’re just busy with other things.”
“You also played at a number of other venues. Harker’s Café, the Boise Jubilee, and Creekside.”
I release a silent breath, puffing my cheeks. He’s done his homework. “Yep.”
“Did you ever meet Ari Pullman?”
“Briefly.”
“Was that at Creekside?”
“Yes.” Maybe I should have put off calling him back. His friendly tone is throwingme off.
“Ari and my sister were close. Did Will tell you I’m from Maple Canyon?”
Did he? I rub my forehead. “I think so.”
“My brother Kaz is the sheriff there.”
