Chapter 8
“Hi, I’m Natalie Briggs,” the woman said. “It’s nice to meet you, Sloane.”
“And you. Any relation to Sheriff Briggs?”
She furrowed a brow. “He’s my … we’re married. Well, separated. I’ve filed for divorce.”
Learning Natalie had filed for divorce put his crude behavior into perspective. Maybe she wanted out, and he didn’t, and he was lashing out because of it. Then again, maybe I was reading too much into it—maybe negativity was just in his nature.
Natalie was striking in the simplest ways—a clear complexion, hair that fell in natural waves, and eyes that told stories before she spoke. The faint lines around them only deepened her charm, proof of a life filled with laughter, sorrow, and everything in between.
Cade slipped away to speak to Camille and Martin, and I suggested to Natalie that we step outside where no one could overhear our conversation. We made our way out of the chapel, taking a seat on a metal bench not far from the building.
“How long have you and Chester been married?” I asked.
“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We started dating in high school, and right after we graduated, he proposed. Looking back now, I can’t believe we thought we were ready for that type of commitment at such a young age.”
“I have friends who married young. Some are still together. Some aren’t. I think it depends on the couple.”
She paused as if sifting through old memories. “Chester was the dream—the charming football player everyone chased. And when he picked me, I believed I’d won the prize. Looking back, I’m not so sure.”
“When did everything change?”
“Right after we married. The man he seemed to be before we moved in was nothing like the one I discovered once we shared a home together.”
“And yet you stayed for a long time.”
“I was raised in a strict religious household, and back then divorce wasn’t an option.
My views have shifted since—something I should have realized long ago.
” She swished a hand through the air. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.
I may be ending my marriage, but it still doesn’t feel right to discuss him on a personal level. ”
She was trying to steer the conversation away from Chester, and that disappointed me. I wanted to know more. Sheriff or not, his past with Gideon kept him on my list of suspects.
“Whatever you share will stay between us,” I assured her.
“Since we’re both working on Gideon’s case, I expect we’ll cross paths again.
I’m just trying to get a better sense of who he is as a person.
So far, I’d say he’s been … well, in a word, difficult.
He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me here.
Not that I fault him for it. I’ve moved in on his territory.
I wouldn’t expect him to be fine with it. ”
She crossed one leg over the other. “It may help you to know that Chester’s childhood wasn’t easy. His father was a hard man. That doesn’t excuse Chester’s behavior—past or present—but it does explain why he’s guarded at times.”
“I appreciate the tip. How long has it been since you two have spoken?”
“I hadn’t talked to him for a few weeks. Then I heard Gideon was murdered, and I gave Chester a call.”
“How did the conversation go?”
“It didn’t. He brushed me off, hanging up before the conversation even started. And hey, I get it. He’s angry. He doesn’t want a divorce. I’ve made up my mind, though. There’s no changing it now.”
The fact that she called Chester suggested she still cared for him, at least on some level.
I didn’t believe she’d done it just to gather information.
Still, she seemed resolute about the divorce.
Thinking back on my own past relationships before Cade, I could admit there were men I still cared about, even after things ended.
It didn’t mean we belonged together—it just meant the feelings didn’t vanish overnight.
“I heard Gideon wasn’t treated well by some of his classmates in school,” I said.
Her gaze slid from mine, a shadow crossing her face. “I regret how we treated him—the nickname, everything. None of it was fair to him.”
“I understand how cruel teens can be at times. But the way some of Gideon’s classmates treated him back then was far harsher than he ever deserved.”
She pressed her fingertips together, then drummed them against her palm, her gaze fixed on the ground.
“It was a long time ago,” she said. “I’ve tried hard to forget it. Not just how I was to him, but to a few others as well. I’m not that person anymore.”
“We’re all flawed in our own ways. What matters is when we can own those flaws and find a way to move past them.”
“Well said.” She paused, then added, “I jog at the town park every morning. A few days before Gideon was murdered, I was running past one of the picnic tables, and I saw a man sitting there. I had to do a double-take before I realized it was him.”
“Did the two of you speak?”
“We did. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in decades, he recognized me, and I asked if I could sit down. There was awkward silence at first, and then I blurted out how sorry I was about what happened in high school.”
“How did he react?”
“It went a lot smoother than I expected. He accepted my apology and told me he’d moved on, that there was no reason to keep revisiting the past. When I mentioned the divorce, he seemed relieved.
He said Chester had always been a bad influence on those around him.
He believed I never would have acted out the way I did if it hadn’t been for him. ”
“Was Chester the ringleader of the group that bullied Gideon?”
“Not the ringleader—no. But he was part of it, and he never had a problem taking part in their bad behavior. That said, Chester had nothing to do with Gideon’s murder. You know that, right?”
“I can’t say I’ve ruled him out as a suspect. If he’s innocent, he has nothing to worry about.”
“Chester may be many things. But he’s no murderer.”
There was no point in arguing the fact.
She had her opinion.
And I had mine.
“What was it like to see Gideon again?” I asked.
“Surreal. Now and then I’d hear whispers—old classmates saying they’d spotted him around town. He looked so different, at least until our eyes met. Those eyes—the bluest I’d ever seen. You could lose yourself in them.”
“What did the two of you talk about?”
“He said he was happy, and in a peaceful place in his life. Well, all except for the bakery. He said he was in town to deal with it, and I could tell the decision was weighing on him. He was telling me a little bit about it, and then he got a call. He excused himself to take it, walking several feet away. I couldn’t hear what was being said at first, not until he got upset and started raising his voice. ”
“Any idea who was on the other end of the call?”
She nodded. “He mentioned the person by name while he was speaking to him. It was his brother, Martin.”