Look Who I See - Everett
Chapter twenty-seven
My cupboards and fridge were empty, and I was getting hungry for something better than soup.
After a day or two of lounging around though, I wasn’t in a hurry to go back out and face people or my problems. Not to mention, I was a little afraid.
Was there someone stalking me, waiting for the next chance to attack?
Logically, no, but emotionally, it felt like a huge maybe, and one I couldn’t ignore.
But my stomach was growling, so I took a shower and headed to the grocery store. At least that was a public place.
I parked and went in, grabbing a handheld basket for just a few things, starting with coffee and sandwich fixings. I turned down the coffee aisle and stopped in my tracks. I knew the guy standing there, looking at nondairy creamers.
Mitchel Harlen.
Now I couldn’t help but be suspicious of him.
Why else would he be here? I hadn’t thought about him in forever.
Chose not to. We hadn’t had a relationship, just a five-minute fling, barely more than a mutual jack-off session.
But…when he’d said he wanted to join forces with me, I practically laughed in his face.
No one would blame me, though—his beer sucked.
But could that have been his motive? I hadn’t put the two things together until I saw him.
Holding my breath, I backed out of the aisle and rushed to the front of the store as fast as possible without running. Half in a panic, I dropped my basket by the door as I darted out, jumped in my car, and headed straight for the Sheriff’s office.
I pushed the glass doors open and walked up to the front counter. “I need Sheriff West.”
The lady started to tell me he wasn’t in, then another woman walking by stopped and moved forward. “Hey, aren’t you the brewery guy? Dating Cameron?”
“Uh, yes. That’s me. Everett Lundy.” I stuck my hand over, and she hustled over to shake it.
“Nice to finally meet you. I’m Brock’s cousin, Sharon.
I actually spoke with Clay about your case.
We don’t have any updates yet, and he’s out.
” She didn’t resemble Brock in any way except her attitude, except maybe hair color, both brown.
She seemed a little younger, or maybe not as rough.
Brock looked like a biker half the time I’d seen him, while she appeared more like the girl next door that everyone wants to take to prom.
“Oh, well. I have an update. That’s why I’m here.”
“Come on, let’s go chat.” She walked me through the back and into an office with a small desk crammed full of computer equipment.
“I’m not officially on this case. I’m not an investigator or anything.
I want to let you know that up front. I work with the department as an advisor of sorts on cybercrimes and things of that nature, but you know, it’s a small town, so whatever I can help with, I will. ”
“Thanks for being upfront. Hell, if you can’t do anything but pass on this message, it’s fine.”
“Sure. What’s going on?” She looked genuinely concerned.
“Mitchel Harlen. I saw him at the grocery store.”
“And who is that?”
“Well, for starters, he’s a competitor. Out of Sacramento. He owns Har-Banger Brewery. We didn’t see eye to eye the last time we were together. Not to mention, we kind of had a fling. But the hops thing might have bothered him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Beer. I grow my own hops. It’s a specialty strain that I developed myself.
My background is in agriculture, but I don’t use GMOs, which is what he was bitching about back when we were in college.
He was asking about it again the last time I saw him.
Plus, he seemed to think we should combine our businesses.
” I snorted at the ridiculous idea. “But…now he’s here. ”
“When was the last time you saw him?” She pulled out a notebook from a little drawer and started jotting down notes. “Here. Can you write his name?” She slid the paper to me, and I wrote both his name and his brewery's name.
“I think I saw him maybe three or four months before I moved here.”
“That was the fling?”
I nodded.
“So, it’s been a minute. Think he’s still mad about the GMOs? Or the fling?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not the fling, but it could be because I didn’t want to join forces. But I haven’t heard from him since then, and now all this stuff has been happening. And he’s here in Foggy Basin. Is that a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences, but Sheriff Clay may not say the same.” She shrugged. “What I can do is research this joker and see what else I can find out. And I’ll pass that all up to the Sheriff.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure. Maybe now go home and keep your head down.”
“Uh, yeah…” I still didn’t get my grocery order, but maybe I could get Cameron to bring something over. Although the thought of going home alone had me shaking. Maybe it would be better to go to Cameron’s house?