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“A little. He’s kept in touch over the years. Every couple of years I hear from him. Even if I move to a different state, and I’ve done that a lot, he somehow finds me.”
“Finds you how?”
“Sometimes it’s just a phone call. Sometimes he shows up in person to ask how I’m doing. He’s helped me out with money a few times.”
Sloan noticed that her fingers and hands were cold, as if all her blood had redirected to her cerebral cortex as she tried to understand what was happening. Guy Menendez, she suddenly knew, was the missing piece of the puzzle she’d been looking for. And Margot Gray was the link to him.
“When was the last time you spoke with him?”
“’Bout a year ago. He gave me his cell number in case I ever needed anything.”
“Would you share his number with me?”
Margot shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”
She dug in her purse until she found her phone, then swiped the screen to pull up the number. She pushed the phone over to Sloan. Sloan glanced at the screen and saw that it was a 530 area code. The same area code as Aunt Nora.
Guy Menendez was in Harrison County. Guy Menendez was probably in Cedar Creek.
CHAPTER 42
Cedar Creek, Nevada Thursday, August 1, 2024
“LISTEN,” SLOAN SAID, STANDING FROM THE KITCHEN TABLE WITH a brimming urgency to tell Eric what she’d learned from Margot Gray. Hell, she considered calling John Michaels at the FBI. She had a phone number belonging to Guy Menendez. Surely one of them could track the number and find the man.
“We can’t stay here much longer. I mean, you found me through a records search of my Vrbo reservation, so it won’t be long before the press shows up. I’m not ready to talk with them yet.”
“Yeah,” Margot said. “Makes sense. Ryder Hillier said she was coming to Cedar Creek to investigate.”
“I have a friend who’s a police officer. His name is Eric Stamos. He’s the sheriff here in Cedar Creek. And I also know the FBI agent who’s been investigating my case ever since I figured out that I was Charlotte Margolis. Would you be willing to talk to them?”
Sloan saw a change come over Margot’s eyes.
“I . . . I’m not sure about that. The FBI? Would I get in trouble? I mean, I’m probably in some kinda trouble for what I did, right?”
“I don’t know,” Sloan said, and knew immediately by Margot’s expression that it was the wrong answer. “Look, let’s forget about the FBI. We’ll just talk to my friend. He’s local.”
“The sheriff?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess I didn’t really think this through. I just wanted to tell you what I did so I could, I don’t know, get it off my chest. I never planned to tell the cops ’bout none of it.”
“I understand. And I’m grateful you tracked me down, Margot. I’m so, so grateful. But the authorities are going to want to talk with you. You’re probably the biggest break this case has ever seen. Trust me, though, they’re not after you. If you tell them everything you just told me, I’m sure they’ll work with you.”
Margot offered a nervous smile. “Work with me how?”
“I don’t know, Margot. I’m not a cop. But trust me, the police and the FBI will be interested in what you can tell them.”
“I don’t wanna go to prison.”
“You’re not going to prison,” Sloan said. “There’s probably a statute of limitations on what you did. At this point, you’re useful to the FBI for the information you can provide, that’s it.”
“The FBI scares me.”
Sloan nodded. “Me, too. So let’s start with my friend. He’ll be able to help us figure out what to do next.”
Margot slowly nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll talk to him.”
