“What’d she want when she came in?” Cara asks.
“The same as always. She wants to know who’s paying this one’s storage bill, but seeing as she’s not the police I don’t tell her.”
“Wait, you’re sure the McCoy storage building is being paid for?” I ask as my heart pounds loudly in my chest.
“Uh huh, every month.”
“Who’s paying it?” I take over asking the questions because while Cara is trying to find Frannie to arrest her, I have other priorities.
“Hold on,” he replies as he starts typing away on this computer. “Says here the payee is Amy Jones.”
“Does that name ring a bell?” Cara asks, and I shake my head.
“Where does the payment come from?” I’m starting to shake and my palms are sweating. This is the first solid lead we’ve stumbled upon since I’ve been back and it all started with a dream, remembering the night Penny and I met.
“Hold on, that’s another screen.” He uses the mouse to move screens and types with one finger while I wait impatiently. I’m about to push him out of the way when he stands up and comes back to the counter.
“Says the transaction comes from a TF Bank. That’s all I got,” he says, shrugging.
“She’s on the East Coast,” Cara mutters as I look at her, both confused and impressed that she just knows this information off the top of her head. “We’ll take a look in the storage unit now,” she adds, smiling at the man as he walks around the front with a massive set of keys hanging from his belt loop. He’s slow, fat, and out of shape, and it takes us far too long to get to my unit. The key I have sits in the box, inside the car, and I realize I should’ve brought it with me, along with my gun.
He searches for the right key and starts to lift the door. I close my eyes, not wanting to see what’s inside.
“Do you have video surveillance here?” I can hear Cara ask him.
“Yeah, but it don’t work all the time, and I only save tape for a week before I reuse them.”
“Here’s my card. If the other woman shows up, I want you to call the police first, then me. Understand?”
“Yup,” he says. I hear the faint jingle of his keys as he walks away.
“Are you going to look?” Cara asks, bumping my shoulder. I can tell by the tone of her voice I won’t find my wife and daughter’s bodies in here, even though that’s what I’m suspecting. I shake my head slightly before prying my eyes open.
I start at the end of the unit. The boxes in the back should be our Christmas decorations. Claire’s crib is on the side, saved for another child, and boxes of her baby clothes are pushed up against it. In the middle sits my bike with mine and Penny’s helmets hanging off the handle bars. I fight the urge to cry as I see the belongings that I never thought I would.
“Is that your bike?”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I want to do in cry in front of her. I don’t care if she’s a woman, she’s a Federal agent and they’re as tough as a SEAL … sometimes.
“Are you going to take it home?” Her question gives me so much hope, but it quickly deflates.
I shake my head. “I’m sure the registration is expired and I can’t afford to get pulled over.” I can feel her eyes on me, but I’m afraid to look at her. I really need a moment to take all of this in. First, someone named Amy Jones has been paying this rental fee, and for all I know that’s my wife. The money is coming from an East Coast bank Cara seems familiar with. The problem now is that I’m on the West Coast with no money to get to where this bank or this Amy person is. Cara makes the first move and steps into the storage unit. She walks around my bike, inspecting it. It’s safe to say it won’t blow up if I start it since Frannie hasn’t had access to. When she gets to the end, she kneels and starts to smile.
“Nope, you’re good for another few months,” she states, much to my surprise.
“What?” I choke out.
“McCoy, someone has been paying for the upkeep of this bike, and you and I both know it’s your wife.”
“Or this Amy Jones,” I mutter, because that’s who we have proof of.
“Semantics. Call your PI and let her know what we’ve found. I’m going to go talk to Buzz.” Cara walks out, our happy moment now over and back to work mode has set in again.
“Buzz?”