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“Remember you said we’d know it when we found it?” He nodded. “There’s a certificate of marriage about five years before mine. I never knew he was married before.”
Brock grinned at her. “Let’s go see if the psycho ever bothered with a divorce or what happened to her.”
“Yo, kiddies,” called Seth as he sauntered in carrying a thermal cooler. “I brought lunch and some goodies for the worker bees out there. Find anything?”
“Alicia just found a previous marriage certificate. We’re going to look for any record of a divorce or anything that might have happened to her.”
“Death certificates were the first thing digitized. What’s the name? I’ll search those records and also do a general search on the woman.”
“Janine Webster.”
Seth spelled it out and got to work. Each of them grabbed something to eat along with a cold soda and started trying to track down the elusive first Mrs. Rennault.
“We’re in luck,” called Seth. “She isn’t dead. In fact, she lives in one of the old money neighborhoods with her kids. They’re in middle school.”
“Can you keep looking in here?” asked Brock. “I want to take Alicia by the house and see if we can see anything.”
They headed out to the SUV, plugged the address into the nav unit, and drove to the woman’s home.
Brock parked two houses down on the other side of the street. It was a lovely street and there was a late model Mercedes in the driveway with the top down. Just as they were about to get out and approach the house, a private school bus drove down the street, stopping at various houses and letting kids off the bus.
“Must be nice to have money,” Alicia said.
“Do you recognize any of these names or houses?”
“No, and Ewan always said we didn’t have the money to live here and that he hated snobs.”
“That’s one way to keep your two wives from meeting.”
The school bus stopped in front of the driveway and let out two kids who appeared to be approximately eleven and thirteen. They ran up the driveway, tussling with each other as kids were inclined to do. The front door opened, and an attractive woman in her mid to late forties opened the door.
“Recognize her?”
“I don’t think so, but she does kind of look familiar.”
Brock glanced down at the copies of the records he brought with him and started jotting down numbers and making calculations.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Unless I’m wrong, and I don’t think I am, that’s the first Mrs. Rennault, and those are her kids, who Seth just messaged me have Ewan Rennault listed as the father.”
“Okay, so what does that mean?”
“It means—forgive me baby girl—but most likely the psycho either wants you dead so no one can prove you never died, and therefore he was never owed the insurance, or he doesn’t want the other Mrs. Rennault to know you exist.”
The comms crackled. “Forgive me, I’ve been listening in…” said Seth.
“He does that,” said Brock.
“And usually it’s a good thing I do. That house and the lavish lifestyle? They’re all in her name only. In other words, psycho boy isn’t entitled to any of it, and he sure as hell couldn’t beat on her. If any of this gets out, psycho boy is shit out of luck.”
“Did you find any divorce proceedings?”
“None whatsoever, but I did find some lovely photographs of the happy couple.”
Brock was grinning ear-to-ear.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
