Unlocking Melodies (Oakwood Grove #3)

8. Under Investigation

Chapter 8

Under Investigation

A t precisely seven in the morning, someone knocked on my door with the kind of authority that suggested this wasn't a housekeeping visit. I quickly scanned my room - three laptops displaying different time zones (totally normal), a wall of color-coded sticky notes tracking Jimmy's schedule (slightly less normal), and my own reflection in the mirror looking far too guilty for someone who technically hadn't done anything wrong.

Officer Dawn stood in my doorway, her expression set to “professionally neutral” but her eyes missing nothing. “Mr. Cole? I'm Officer Dawn. Mind if I come in?”

My room suddenly felt very small as she took in every detail. Her gaze lingered on my sticky note collection, which I tried to casually block by leaning against the wall in what I hoped was a natural pose. Her raised eyebrow suggested I was about as subtle as Mrs. Henderson's surveillance operation.

“Interesting organizational system,” she commented, nodding toward the one sticky note I hadn't managed to cover - a detailed analysis of Jimmy's coffee schedule.

“I'm very... thorough in my research.”

“Yes, I've noticed.” She settled into the room's only chair, leaving me to either sit on the bed or remain awkwardly standing. “That's actually why I'm here.”

I chose standing. CEOs didn't sit on beds during interrogations. “Is there a problem, Officer?”

“You tell me.” Her tone was conversational but her eyes were steel. “A wealthy outsider shows up in our small town right after our local music manager loses his memory in a suspicious attack. Said outsider proceeds to watch said manager's every move, sends expensive gifts, and maintains what my grandmother would call a 'concerning level of interest.'”

She paused, letting that sink in. “Call me paranoid, but given recent events, we're a bit protective of our own.”

I appreciated her directness even as I recognized the threat beneath her professional demeanor. This wasn't just small-town law enforcement - this was someone who cared about Jimmy.

“I knew him,” I said finally. “Before.”

Her expression shifted slightly. “Go on.”

“We met at Rosewood Academy in New York. We were...” The words stuck. How did you explain what we'd been? What I'd thrown away? “Close.”

“Rosewood Academy?” Something clicked behind her eyes. “The performing arts school?”

I nodded, watching understanding dawn on her face as pieces fell into place. “We wrote music together. Performed together. Until I...”

“Left?” she supplied when I trailed off.

“Something like that.”

She was quiet for a moment, reassessing. I could almost see her mental picture shifting from 'suspicious stalker' to something more complicated.

“And now?” she asked carefully.

“Now I don't know.” I gestured helplessly at my wall of sticky notes. “He doesn't remember me. Any of it. And I can't decide if that's better or worse than if he remembered how it ended.”

“So you're what - trying to protect him? Make amends? Start over?”

“All of the above? None of the above?” I ran a hand through my hair, forgetting about corporate image for a moment. “I just know I can't walk away. Not again.”

She studied me for a long moment, then stood. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“For now. Though those sticky notes - you might want to be more subtle. The pink ones about his morning walks are visible from the street.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “I'll... take that under advisement.”

“And maybe cool it with the expensive gifts? You're making the rest of us look bad.” But there was a hint of amusement in her voice now. “Though I hear Melody's quite taken with you, so you must be doing something right.”

My phone buzzed with Mia's emergency ringtone - the one that meant someone was trying to destabilize my carefully constructed corporate kingdom.

“Excuse me,” I said to Officer Dawn, who settled back in her chair with the air of someone about to watch an interesting show. “Mia?”

“Reuben’s rallying votes against the integration. Claims you've abandoned the company for” - I could hear her reading from notes - “'some rural vision quest.'”

I felt my CEO persona slide into place like armor. “Put me on speaker with him. Now.”

A moment later, Reuben's smug voice filled my hotel room. “Ethan! Enjoying your... what are we calling it? Personal retreat?”

“Reuben. I hear you're concerned about my dedication to the company.”

“The board has concerns, yes. Your sudden departure, your... distraction. The integration is crucial-“

“The integration that I personally developed? The one whose implementation strategy I mapped out six months ago?” I kept my voice calm, controlled. “Or perhaps you'd like to explain to our shareholders why you're attempting to derail our most promising initiative based on office politics?”

“Now see here-“

“No, you see here.” Eight years of corporate warfare had taught me exactly how to twist the knife. “Your position on the board has always been precarious, hasn't it? Riding on my father's goodwill? It would be a shame if someone were to look too closely at your voting patterns. Your convenient oppositions. Your personal investments in our competitors.”

Silence. Then, “Are you threatening me?”

“I'm reminding you why I'm CEO. The integration proceeds as planned. We can discuss your concerns about my leadership at the next regularly scheduled board meeting. In person.”

“This isn't over, Ethan.”

“No,” I agreed. “But it's tabled. For now.”

I heard Reuben slam the door and Mia's voice was dry when she took over the call. “Well, that'll keep him scrambling for a few days. But he's not wrong about needing you back eventually.”

“I know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Keep me posted on his movements.”

“On it. And Ethan? Whatever's keeping you there... I hope it's worth it.”

“Impressive,” Officer Dawn said dryly. “Very shark-like. But it doesn't explain why you left all that to come here.” Her pointed look at my wall of sticky notes suggested she had theories. Many theories.

“Sometimes priorities change.”

“Mmm.” She stood, straightening her uniform. “Well, this has been enlightening. Oh, and Sheriff Thompson would like to meet with you. Today.” Her casual tone didn't match the weight of her next words. “He's very interested in anyone connected to Jimmy's past right now.”

The sheriff's office felt worlds away from my corporate boardroom. No floor-to-ceiling windows or ergonomic chairs here - just well-worn furniture and the kind of coffee maker that probably predated my first merger.

Sheriff Jake Thompson's office felt like stepping into another world. No mahogany desks or leather chairs here - just well-worn furniture and a coffee mug declaring 'World's Okayest Sheriff' that somehow made him more intimidating than any corporate power player.

“Thanks for coming in,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. “Coffee?”

“Please.” The normalcy of the offer was almost surreal.

“Liam mentioned he's the one who contacted you about Jimmy,” Thompson said, pouring from what looked like the world's oldest coffee maker. “Said you two have history.”

“We do.” I accepted the cup, appreciating the straightforward approach. “Rosewood Academy in New York. We were... close.”

“And now you're here to help?” It wasn't quite a question, but it wasn't an accusation either.

“As much as I can be.” I met his eyes. “Even if he doesn't remember me.”

Thompson nodded thoughtfully. “Must be difficult, seeing him like this.”

The understanding in his voice caught me off guard. This wasn't the interrogation I'd expected. “More than I can explain.”

“I saw the news article.”

“Did you?” His eyes met mine. “The story only ran in local papers. Not the kind of thing that usually crosses a CEO's desk.”

I'd walked into that one. “I have alerts set up.”

“For small-town news about music managers?”

“For Jimmy.”

He leaned back, studying me with the kind of attention that had probably cracked tougher cases than a love-struck billionaire. “Tell me about Rosewood.”

What followed felt like the most intense merger negotiation of my life - except instead of stock options and market shares, we were dealing in memories and motives.

“You were close,” he said, after I'd explained about everything from all those years ago.

“Yes.”

“Then you left. No warning, just a letter.”

“How did you-“

“Small towns talk, Mr. Cole. And Jimmy needed someone to talk to when he got here.” He tapped his mug thoughtfully. “What I can't figure out is why now? After eight years of silence, why show up when he can't even remember you?”

“Because he's hurt. Because someone attacked him and I-“ I stopped, the words sticking.

“Can't walk away again?” Jake supplied. His tone was gentler now, but no less probing. “Even though he doesn't remember what you're trying to make up for?”

“Especially because of that.”

He nodded slowly, like I'd confirmed something. “You know we're looking into everyone from his past.”

“I assumed as much.”

“And you'll cooperate? Even if the questions get... personal?”

“I'll tell you anything that helps find who hurt him.”

“Good.” He stood, signaling the end of our conversation. “Because I have a feeling this goes deeper than a random attack. And Mr. Cole?” His expression hardened slightly. “If I find out you're not being straight with me about any of this...”

“You don't need to finish that threat, Sheriff. I'm not here to hurt him.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you did once. And this time he's got a whole town watching out for him.”

"Liam told me some of what happened," I said carefully. "About finding Jimmy at the ranch gates. About your deputy Ramirez being involved."

Jake's expression shifted. "But not everything." He leaned forward, studying my reaction. "Want to know what I can't figure out? Why Ramirez was so interested in Jimmy's past. Kept asking questions about his connections outside of town."

My hands clenched involuntarily. This was new information - worse than what Liam had shared.

"He was looking into Jimmy's background?"

"For weeks before the attack." Jake watched my reaction carefully. "Interesting timing, wouldn't you say? And now here you are."

"You think I had something to do with-" The suggestion made my voice crack. "I didn't even know where he was until Liam called about the attack."

Something in my reaction made Jake pause. He sat back, reassessing. "No," he said finally. "I don't think you did. That's genuine distress I'm seeing. But you're connected to this somehow, even if you don't know it yet."

A commotion outside his office interrupted us. Through the blinds, I could see Jimmy at the front desk, apparently there to file paperwork. He was chatting with the staff, that natural warmth evident even without his memories. Something about watching him - alive, safe, making people smile despite everything - made my chest tight.

Jake observed my expression with growing understanding. "Let me be clear about something," he said quietly. "Jimmy's one of ours now. Memory or not, we protect our own. Whatever history you two have? Make sure it doesn't hurt him this time."

I left the station, only to nearly collide with Jimmy himself in the lobby.

"Mr. Cole," he said, then caught himself. "Ethan. Sorry - still getting used to the first-name basis thing."

His smile was genuine, nothing like yesterday's polite distance. Something in my chest loosened.

"Everything okay?" he asked, gesturing to the station around us. "You're a bit far from your usual coffee shop surveillance post."

The teasing tone caught me off guard in the best way. "Just some paperwork. Small town regulations for visiting businesses." The lie felt heavy, but telling him I was being questioned about his attack felt heavier.

"Ah, more tech hub research?" His eyes sparkled with something that looked like mischief. "That's your story and you're sticking to it?"

"Religiously."

He laughed - a real laugh, not the careful one he used with strangers. "Well, since you're here and not hiding behind your laptop for once, want to grab coffee? I have questions about your coding empire."

"Only if you promise not to ask about my stock portfolio."

"Deal. Though I reserve the right to mock your coffee order."

We walked out together, and I could feel Jake watching through his office window. His warning echoed in my head: Make sure it doesn't hurt him this time.

But looking at Jimmy now, seeing him choose to know me all over again, I wondered if maybe we both had a chance at a better ending this time.

Sky didn't even try to hide their smirk when we walked into The Daily Grind together. "The usual for both of you?"

"You mean his unnecessarily complicated coffee order and my normal person drink?" Jimmy grinned.

"I'll have you know this is a perfectly calibrated caffeine delivery system," I defended as Sky started crafting my admittedly complex order.

"Uh-huh. Is that what they teach you in billionaire school?"

We settled into a corner table, and for a moment it felt strangely natural, like we'd done this a hundred times before. Maybe we had.

"So," Jimmy leaned forward, "tell me something true about yourself. Something that's not in all those business profiles I definitely haven't been reading."

I raised an eyebrow. "Research goes both ways, huh?"

"Hey, you have your wall of sticky notes, I have my Google alerts."

His phone buzzed before I could respond. "Liam," he explained, checking the message. "Apparently Melody's staging another escape attempt. I should head back."

"The trials of being a therapy horse's favorite person."

"Says the man she used as a corporate conference call prop." He stood, gathering his coffee. "Rain check on the interrogation?"

"Looking forward to it."

I watched him leave, unable to stop my smile. Sky appeared at my elbow, coffee pot in hand.

"That's going on the town betting board," they declared.

"Of course it is."