Chapter 11
Garrett stared down at the bottle of whiskey, tucked away in his toolbox at work. Part of him wanted to down the whole thing, and the other part of him wanted to throw it in the trash and climb in with it. Was that normal?
Probably not.
He closed the lid of toolbox, locking it shut and cramming the keys in his pocket. His head was still reeling from Sarah being murdered and the conversation with Beth. He wasn’t sure how he’d expected it go, and up until he saw her throw away the paper, he would’ve said it had been good.
But that ruined it.
Sighing, he pulled out his phone, relieved there were no notifications waiting for him. He scrolled to his little brother’s number and hit call. He put the phone to his ear as he angled his body to the big bay door, still open despite the shop being closed for the day.
“What?” Dylan answered, clearly irritated. “I’m at work.”
Garrett blew out a breath. “Sorry, I thought you might be free to hang out. ”
“So, now you want to hang out? Dad told me you were with Beth Young today. You need to steer clear of her with this investigation going on. You don’t need to end up front and center with your previous charges.”
He rubbed his forehead. “That was years ago. It’s not even on my record?—”
“This whole town doesn’t care about the technicalities, and you know that.” Dylan sighed. “I’m just trying to look out for you. Just like we always try to watch out for you, but some chick you’re always around was found dead last night. Beth’s statement is incriminating to you. ”
“Me? Why me?”
“She saw you outside of the bar,” he said flatly. “That’s enough. Dad is trying to keep it under the table, but that’s hard to do when you go gallivanting around town suddenly sober and all cleaned up. It’s like you’re trying to put on a show, G. People notice when things change—even if it seems to be for the better.”
“I just wanted to be able to have a clear head when I talked to her. You were just a kid when all that happened, but I had to…break the ice, I guess.”
“You were shooting your shot,” Dylan snapped, his tone irritable. “I work with Lauren, remember? You think I don’t know you were sweet on Beth? Wrong. I know that’s why you’re all cut up over her being back in town, and now, you’re trying to fix yourself for her. ”
“That’s not true,” Garrett argued, though he wasn’t sure if he was lying to himself. “It’s not about her at all. It’s just?—”
“Who’s her ?” a voice cut in from behind him.
Anger rolled through his system at the recognition, and he spun around to see his supposed-to-be ex-wife standing in the bay of the garage with her arms folded across her chest. “I gotta go,” he said through gritted teeth, dropping the phone to his side. “You bringing back the papers?”
“I heard you were sober today,” she bit back, her brown eyes on fire beneath her perfectly curled caramel-colored waves. “But somehow, you still can’t call me back?”
“I don’t have to call you back,” he snapped at her. “I told you it was over.”
“That’s not what you say in your drunk voicemails—which I’m getting really tired of.” She took a step forward, hurt flashing across her face. “I’m trying to understand you, Garrett, and I can’t for the life of me. You say you want a divorce, and then claim you still love me in voicemails.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his truck keys. “I can’t deal with this right now. Please leave, Britt. I don’t want to talk. I want a divorce.”
“Then stop calling me. You left me a voicemail last night for heaven’s sake.” Her manicured hands pulled out her cell phone, and she began scrolling through it.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Garrett grunted, going for the garage door, and smashing the close button. “Put that up.”
She rolled her eyes. “You always say that. Just come with me to counseling. I don’t want to give up, if you don’t.”
He spun around to face her. “I do want to give up. I don’t love you, Brittany. I don’t understand how clear I have to make it.”
“You’re so contradictory.” Her expression broke as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t understand you.”
Ignoring her, he slipped from the garage into the office area of the shop. “You need to go home. Delete my number, block me, whatever. Whatever I’m saying when I’m drunk, I don’t mean.”
“My nana says that drunk people always tell the truth.” She grabbed his hand, and he jerked it away from her.
“Nope, not in my case. Don’t trust a word I tell you.” He continued out of the mechanic shop, while Brittany followed him, her Nikes squeaking on the pavement as he locked the door. “You gotta just sign the papers and move on. We’ve been over for years.”
“According to everyone in this stupid town, we were over before we ever even started,” she choked out. “All I’ve heard since Peter Young passed is how Beth is back in town, and according to the rumor mill, you went after her.”
Jeez. There are eyes everywhere.
“I didn’t go after her,” he said plainly, making his way to this truck. Her brand-new Tahoe was parked next to his old truck, and he gestured to it. “Go home, Brittany.”
“Then come with me.”
“I got my own place, which you need to stay away from. No more showing up there. Leave me alone, ” he reiterated to her for the hundredth time. “I’ll get a restraining order.”
“And then continue to blow my phone up,” she reasoned, frowning. “I just want to know you’re okay. Is that acceptable? Can I at least know that? Please.”
He threw out his arms. “Here I am, living and breathing. You can go now.”
“You’re always such a jerk when you’re drinking,” she muttered.
Garrett glared at her. “Stone cold sober right now.”
Her lips flatlined. “So it’s true then, huh? You and Beth Young? Or is that another Sarah and Garrett situation? ”
He looked Brittany dead in the eye. “You really shouldn’t be talking about a dead person like that. It’s disrespectful.”
Her eyes went stark wide, and she took a couple of steps back from him. “ What? ”
“Yeah, surprised you don’t know about that yet. The whole town is talking about me being sober for one day, and talking to Beth Young, but no one has mentioned Sarah’s death to you? Or is it that you’ve been constantly poking around this town, trying to keep tabs on me?”
She shook her head, her expression softening. “What happened to her, Garrett? I can’t… I just…” Her voice trailed off. “I just saw her a couple of days ago.”
Garrett shrugged, having forgotten all about the body found at the furthest northern point of the county. “No idea. I don’t like listening to my dad talk about his investigations. You know that.”
“I should call her grandma,” Brittany was somewhere else mentally, her face contorted as she grew more upset. “Make her a casserole or something.”
“Yeah, that’ll make ‘em feel better,” he snorted, popping open the door of his truck. “You go do that and leave me the hell alone.” He climbed in and shut the door, clicking the lock into place. He hated being so cold to her, and momentarily, he felt guilty about it…
But it was for the best.
Brittany needed to move on, and as much as he hated it, the whole town was right. They’d never been compatible. Something had always been missing between them, though it was hard to say what it was. Well, to everyone but him. He’d always known, but if he said the truth out loud, he’d sound like an even bigger jerk. Or maybe just a nutcase .
He pulled out of the parking lot with Brittany not far behind him, but as he turned right, she thankfully took a left, heading back toward her own house. He’d had his place for nearly two years now, and the marriage had only survived a whopping two years—and that was only because he tried to play the good husband for the first year, trying to stay sober.
Which really just meant he got good at hiding it.
He stomped the accelerator, whizzing past Outlaws. He wasn’t in the mood to set foot in a bar full of judging stares. If Brittany knew about him seeing Beth today, then that meant mostly everyone else did, too. It’d smear Beth’s image in the town, and that was the last thing he wanted. Really. What had he been thinking? And was it worth it? Did he even get his closure?
The red and blue lights flickering in his rearview mirror broke his thoughts, and his eyes went straight to the dash. He was not speeding. Why be pulled over? He sighed, hoping it was his dad doing a check on his sobriety, which he’d probably be pretty pleased with.
But as the shadow made it to his driver’s side window, he grimaced.
“What do you want, Blaze?” Garrett snapped, meeting his darkened hazel eyes.
Blaze jerked on the door handle. “Get out.”
“No,” Garrett sneered, his fists clenching. “Why’d you pull me over?”
“Suspected drunk driver,” he laughed wickedly. “So, get out. ”
Garrett was tempted to stomp the gas and leave him in a cloud of black coal, but instead, he obeyed, slinging the door open so hard it rammed into Blaze’s readied hands with a thud. “ Okay. What do you want me to do? Say the alphabet backwards? Walk a straight line? Blow in a tube? I think that would probably be the fastest way to clear this up.”
Blaze slammed the truck door behind Garrett. “Let’s start out with where you were last night, because see, I have a problem.”
“And that is?” He turned to face Blaze, standing at eye level with him. They were about the same height, though Garrett probably had an inch or two on him.
“The fact that your dad left your name out of the report,” he growled, shoving Garrett’s chest as soon as they were beyond the dash cam. “I don’t like the fact he’s covering for you. I know Beth put you at the bar. I overheard it from the porch.”
“Lousy investigating, I guess.” Garrett chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “ Or maybe you should just ask him, instead of harassing me.”
“Hmm,” Blaze narrowed his eyes. “I wonder how many calls Sarah made to you that night, or maybe how many you made to her? Because I have a feeling her phone will give us plenty of answers. We’re just waiting on the phone company to release them.”
“Cool,” Garrett said. “I hope you find your answers. Are we done here?”
Blaze blocked him from walking back to his truck. “I don’t trust you, Garrett. You’re a drunk, but the day after the murder, you’re suddenly sober and come to court Beth Young? Seems wild, since according to record, she is the last person to see Sarah.”
Garrett’s head started to throb. “Beth said if I wanted to talk to her, I had to be sober. So, I was—out of respect for her. Not that hard to comprehend. I didn’t see Sarah last night. ”
“But you know what I find strange?” Blaze leaned in, his voice ice cold.
“What’s that?”
“When I was on the porch, talking with Andrea Young, she said that Beth didn’t mention seeing you last night. In fact, when her mom asked her, she told her that she hadn’t seen anyone she knew, other than Sarah. Why would she lie to her mom, Garrett?”
“I think you’re digging for something you’re not going to find.” Garrett shook his head, shoving past Blaze and heading back toward his truck. “Beth is a good person. She didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, I know,” Blaze called after him. “But you’re not, and that’s what I’m worried about.”