Chapter 5
Five
“ T he woman certainly has an overactive imagination,” Ethan muttered. “Although I guess someone would have to have one to in order to write mysteries.”
He shook his head and exhaled, thinking about his visit to ol’ man Jenk—no, Jane Goodwin’s farm. She was doing a nice job of renovating it with Clarence’s help. But it was a broken window, for God’s sake. Nothing was taken or destroyed. Yet Jane acted like Beaver Creek was full of criminals.
“You’re overreacting,” said his older brother Dylan. They sat in their usual booth at the back of the Harvest Moon, Beaver Creek’s popular diner. “I’m sure she’s just being cautious. She’s a single woman living alone on a farm on a dark street.” He added ketchup to his double burger and took a bite. “Mmmm. Leah makes a mean burger.” Dylan looked at Ethan. “What’s your issue with her, honestly?”
Ethan shrugged. “She’s a flatlander with an overactive imagination, and you know how they are.”
Dylan raised a brow and smirked, his lips curling up, teasing Ethan. “Pray tell.”
“People move up here from big cities and expect the same services they had. They’re always in a hurry to get nowhere and expect everyone to jump when they say jump,” Ethan replied.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard today,” said Dylan, chuckling. “This town needs fresh faces and new ideas. From what I’ve heard, Jane is renovating the old farm, so it isn’t an eyesore. She’s employing local people, making friends in town and breathing life into the community.” He squinted his eyes at Ethan. “What’s really going on?”
Ethan’s fingers nervously scratched the back of his neck while thinking about his answer. The diner was packed. The scent of grilled meat assaulted his nose. Patrons’ voices were just background noise. He looked out the window at people passing by, laughing and shopping. He was home.
However, listening to Dylan’s words stirred up a whirlwind of guilt inside Ethan. Categorizing people and questioning their concerns wasn’t who he was. Or at least he didn’t think it was until Corrine left him for the city, telling him she’d die if she didn’t have more stimulation.
It had him questioning not only his role as sheriff but his life here. He never saw Beaver Creek as dull. He loved the small-town feel, the access to larger cities, the lifelong friendships he made, and the concern people had for their neighbors.
Memories of roaming through the woods with his brothers, catching frogs, swimming in ol’ man Jenkins’s pond and camping under the stars in the summer filtered through his mind. He had a wonderful childhood. He knew Corrine did, too, and that was why he was blindsided.
“I keep thinking about Corrine leaving,” Ethan admitted, breaking the silence. “You know she went to Boston, didn’t you? Same place Jane came from.”
Dylan gave him a sympathetic smile. “I knew that, but you’re comparing apples to oranges. Corrine never wanted to stay around here. How many times did she mention wanting to dance and party all night? How many times did she say she wanted to act, go to museums, and travel the world?”
“Too many times,” Ethan agreed and let out a heavy sigh. “I thought as we got older, she’d be happy to stay here,” he added sadly. And he’d thought so too right until she left. They grew up together, had their first kiss in high school, and made love soon after. Ethan thought he was enough for her. Apparently not.
“Her leaving had nothing to do with you.” Dylan shook his head. “You have to remember that.” He finished his burger and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I have to run. I have a potential customer coming to the gallery.”
Dylan pushed a lock of brown hair out of his eye. He took after their father with his lean build, light brown hair and deep green eyes. As the second oldest sibling, he followed his dream of becoming a painter, oils being his medium of choice, uninhabited buildings and old farm equipment his focus. His paintings were an explosion of color, bringing the old and forgotten to life. He exhibited his oils at Earth & Fire Studio, located just behind Beaver Creek Falls and owned by him and Claire Martinez.
Dylan stood and pulled out his wallet, giving Ethan a nice view of another tattoo.
“Ah, I see the paint brush isn’t alone anymore. You’ve added a palette,” said Ethan. “Nice.”
“Well, I couldn’t leave the brush by itself.” Dylan pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. “I added this one in honor of the studio.”
Ethan stared at the tattoo of a round circle representing earth, pointing true north. The tree of life encircled it. Vibrant hues of yellow, orange and red flames merged into blue sky. It was beautiful.
He loved looking at tattoos. However, Ethan was the only brother who didn’t have any. At one point, he contemplated tattooing a heart with Corrine’s name on his arm, but now he was thankful he didn’t.
“Well, good luck with your client,” said Ethan as they paid and walked out, coming in for a man hug before slapping each other’s shoulders.
Ethan headed back toward the police station while Dylan walked in the opposite direction toward the gallery.
Earth & Fire had a unique location overlooking Beaver Creek and its picturesque waterfall. The clear, bubbling water of Beaver Creek wound its way through town, splitting it in two. A rock bridge with old-fashioned lampposts connected the two halves and offered a breathtaking view of the falls.
The diner wasn’t far from the firehouse and police station next door. As Ethan walked, he enjoyed the cool, crisp air of fall and the aroma of freshly baked bread from the Crumb & Co. bakery. He waved to a few people he knew.
“Hey, Sheriff.”
Walt Foster, the mayor of Beaver Creek, was dressed in his usual suit and tie. The gray suit highlighted his salt-and-pepper hair. He extended his hand, and Ethan shook it.
“Mayor. What brings you out on this fine day?”
Walt smiled. “Oh, Maggie Thornton is back in town and has a land dispute with one of her neighbors. I’m on my way to the courthouse.”
“Maggie?” Ethan frowned. “She’s been away for a while now. Is this about the property off Mountain Avenue?”
The mayor nodded. “Yeah. She and Mark Sutton have been arguing about that right-of-way for years. I thought when she left and rented her house out, we heard the end of it.”
“Why don’t they just get a surveyor out there and settle it once and for all?”
“Humph.” Walt pursed his lips. “If only it were that easy. The right-of-way affects her and Mark’s houses and the town maintenance garage farther down. If you remember, the garage has two entrances. Maggie feels that too many trucks are using the driveway.”
Ethan hadn’t seen Maggie in a couple of years. She and her uncle David Thornton were always causing trouble—especially Maggie when she was in town. David claimed that the Jenkins farm and part of the McQueeney farm were promised to his great-grandfather, although David could never prove it. It caused a lot of stress for Mr. Jenkins and Ethan’s grandfather. Rumors of David’s shady dealings circulated for years, but Ethan couldn’t prove anything.
“Well, it should be interesting. Let me know what happens,” said Ethan.
Walt tipped his head and walked toward the courthouse.
Ethan didn’t envy his position. The land dispute had the potential to reignite old town tensions, especially with Maggie causing trouble.