“This was a tough one.”
“How so?” My interest has definitely peaked.
“Melissa Calvert is actually Melissa Dolson.”
Dolson, why does that sound so familiar? I scour my brain but come up empty, but it doesn’t escape me that Arthur is silent. He’s known not to be a man of many words, but this is absurd. Surely he would’ve continued with my lack of response, but hemust be giving me a chance to solve the riddle of her name before he spills the beans.
“Care to continue?” It comes out snarky, but I’m fed up and ready to get what I asked for in the first place, instead of these guessing games.
“I also need to tell you something else,” he adds before pausing, which only irritates me further. All I want is what I fucking asked about and he’s pussyfooting around.
I take a moment, breathing deeply, wanting nothing more that to reach through the speaker and rip his fucking throat out. “What did you find on Melissa?” It takes everything in me to remain calm even though my words come out harsh, cold and staccato.
“She came to Memphis almost twenty-eight years ago. She was married, but not even three months after she got here, her name was changed and her husband went missing. Witnesses say he and his wife went out on a yacht and sometime during the night, they lost contact with the boat.”
Married. Melissa was married. How the fuck did I not know that?
“Okay, that doesn’t seem horrible.”
“There’s more. The boat was never found and it was presumed there was an accident at sea and both were killed.”
I let out a burst of laughter. “Well, that can’t be, since she’s perfectly alive and well.”
“This is where it gets more curious. Prior to three months before this accident, Melissa Calvert didn’t exist. The forged records on her were good but there were cracks. When I went back and looked again this afternoon before calling you, shit was different, more airtight. Someone went and made sure there were no flaws in the records, and the fucker is good. Better than me, and you know how much I hate to say that.”
“I think I have a clue who it was.” My words are solemn. What is it you’re trying to keep me from finding, Earl?
“Are you positive? I can keep digging and find out who’s helping her and why.”
“No need. Do you have anything on why she changed her name?” I press on the brake, bringing my truck to a stop as I approach the stop sign.
“Not anything conclusive, but if I were to make an educated guess from the hospital visits, I’d say she was a victim of domestic violence.”
I grip the wheel tighter, my eyes frozen on the horizon as the sky gradually deepens, fading from the golden hues of daylight into the darker blues of the approaching night. The streetlights start to flicker as they come on, doing so in a delayed pattern.
“She. Was. Abused.” My words come out short and sharp. I want to murder the fucker who laid a hand on the woman I love.
There’s just one question.
Melissa is here. She was supposed to be on the yacht with him, but he’s missing and she’s not. What the fuck happened? As much as I don’t want to do it, there’s one person I need to talk to. One who I think has the answers. The question is, will he share those answers with me?
“It looks that way, Jaxton. But there’s more.” I can hear the unease in his voice, which isn’t normal for him. Nothing shakes Arthur, but right now he’s on edge.
“Spit it out, Arthur. It can’t be worse than what you’ve already told me.” I need to end this conversation so I can talk with Earl.
“Someone has been snooping into your past.”
Not what I wanted to hear, but I’ve covered it well. My forged life is airtight.
“And? There are no holes in the identity we created.”
I can hear his sigh, the defeat in his voice, and a little fear that he’s failed me.
“Someone found a way past it. They know who you are.”
“Keep digging into Melissa’s past and let me know when you have more information.”
Before I can end the call, Arthur speaks one final time.
