Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
WEST
“ W hat happened to you?” I asked after I’d tracked Avery down in her office after work, trying to mop herself off with a fistful of rags.
From the shoulders down, she was soaked, and from the smell, I was guessing it was beer.
Not a surprise, considering, but the quantity was unexpected.
“Did you stand under an open keg or something?”
“No,” Avery said with a laugh and a rueful shake of her head, her dark ponytail swinging. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I came around the corner of the bar, Dave called my name, and I turned but kept walking right into Cammie, who was holding a full tray of beer.”
“I was going to see if you wanted to go get some barbecue, but maybe we’ll swing by Heartstone first.”
“Definitely,” Avery agreed. “Yes, on the barbecue after a pit stop for a change of clothes. I love my beer, but I don’t want to wear it.”
A knot in my chest unraveled at her easy agreement to dinner. I hadn’t realized how much it had mattered that she wanted to go get barbecue with me. I’d had her over the night before, all night, waking with her curled in my arms, her head on my chest.
I didn’t date a ton. It could get complicated for a small-town police chief who left too many relationships behind. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up with a woman, and never like this—comfortable, satisfied, resenting the alarm that would pull us apart.
I was trying not to overthink this thing.
I wasn’t going to treat Avery like an afterthought or a hook-up, but I wasn’t ring shopping either.
We were just feeling things out, seeing how it went, enjoying each other while it worked.
All of that made it seem easy and casual, and maybe, on the surface, it was.
But underneath, there was my reluctance to let her slide from my arms, that knot in my chest that she might not want to eat dinner with me or come back to my bed.
It surprised me how much I wanted her with me.
At least for the moment, I didn’t have to worry about it.
Avery grabbed her bag from the back of her chair, started to pull on her coat, then threw it over her arm and headed out, waving at her two bartenders.
As far as I could tell, Cammie and Dave tended the bar at night when it was busy, helped in the brewery in the afternoons, and basically did whatever needed to be done.
Avery managed them like she did everything else, with ease and empathy.
I thought again, as I had many times since seeing her earlier, about how much of a dick Matthew Holt was.
Avery was a far better manager than he’d ever be, but it only took a few stray comments to completely fuck up her business. It was bullshit.
Matt had always been on my radar as someone to keep an eye on, but now he was on my shit list.
I hooked her arm through mine, and we left out the side door.
“So, Heartstone and then barbecue?” Avery asked as she fastened her seatbelt. “It won’t take me long to change.”
I hesitated about bringing up the thing on my mind—but this was Avery.
I didn’t need to waste time beating around the bush.
Not with her. So, I jumped in. I reached across the center console and slid my hand over hers, taking my eyes off the road for a second to shoot her a quick look.
She was smiling, her fingers twining with mine.
“I want to ask you to come home with me after dinner,” I said. “But I know there’s a limit on how many nights you can spend away from Heartstone.”
Avery let out a breath. “Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass.
My fucking father and his stupid will.” She was quiet for a second, looking out the window, then sucked in a breath and said, “It’s not as if staying at your place is more discreet, considering everybody knows I didn’t come home and can guess who I’m with. ”
“Kind of what I was thinking,” I said, relieved we were on the same page.
“How do you feel about staying at Heartstone with me?” She asked, the hint of hesitance in her voice telling me I wasn’t the only one trying to feel this out.
“I’m up for that,” I said, slowly. “It might be a little weird at first. But we have to get over the weird eventually if we’re going to do this. Assuming we’re doing this.” I didn’t think I had to define what this was.
The side of Avery’s mouth curled up. “After last night,” she said, “I vote that we are absolutely doing this.”
“Agreed,” I said, more relieved than I was prepared to be. “For more of you, I’ll happily put up with weird.”
I turned onto the long drive to Heartstone Manor.
Thanks to Hawk, it had changed in the last few years.
Prentice, for reasons unknown, had neglected Heartstone Manor in the two years before he died, including the long drive in from the main road.
When Griffen came home after Prentice’s death, it had been choked with weeds, crumbling potholes dotting the asphalt, not the driveway you’d expect to lead to a grand estate.
Hawk had been busy keeping the Sawyers alive, but he’d found time to clean the place up.
It had seemed odd at first, Griffen’s security expert doubling as the groundskeeper.
But I’d learned Hawk loved few things more than getting his hands in the dirt.
One of those things was Quinn, Griffen and Avery’s sister.
I had a feeling that if we ever found Prentice’s killer and things calmed down, Heartstone would have gardens that would be the envy of everyone in Western North Carolina.
Someday. But Heartstone’s grounds were no longer choked by weeds, and that was progress.
We emerged from the tree-lined drive to the courtyard in front of the big house. I wasn’t expecting to see two cars parked in front, especially not cars I recognized.
“Who’s here?” Avery asked, leaning forward. “Are those Edgar and Harvey’s cars? ”
Edgar was Griffen’s wife’s uncle and one of Prentice’s former business partners. “Do they come to dinner often?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting confirmation anyway.
“Sometimes on Sundays, you know, for family dinner,” Avery said, squinting at the two cars as I pulled up behind them and put the SUV in park. “But it’s not Sunday.” A thought occurred to her, and she straightened, eyes widening. “It’s not Sunday, is it?”
“No, it’s Tuesday,” I confirmed with a smile.
“That’s what I thought, but sometimes the calendar gets away from me,” she said. “If it’s not Sunday, why are they here?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But how would you feel about taking a rain check on that barbecue?”
“Done,” Avery agreed. “I want to know what’s going on. But first, change of clothes.”
I followed her up the front steps and opened the door. “I’ll go see if I can find Griffen.”
She nodded, jogging up the stairs with a wave. My eyes followed her, lingering on the flex of her legs and her round ass. Looked like I was going to get to see inside Avery’s bedroom. Not that I’d be paying much attention to the decor. Not if I had her all to myself.
The front hall was empty. I could hear movement in the dining room to my left, but not voices—probably Savannah or one of the day maids, Kitty or April, getting the table ready for dinner.
In years past, and probably still on Sundays, there would have been a cocktail hour before the meal.
But the current crop of Sawyers weren’t big drinkers in general, and most of them had busy days—no time to hang around socializing before dinner.
I found Griffen in his office behind his desk, baby Stella strapped to his chest in a carrier.
“Hey,” he said with a smile as I walked in after dropping a quick knock on the open door. “What are you doing here?” His eyebrows drew together. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s great.” I dropped into the chair in front of his desk. “Avery walked into a tray full of beer. We were going to head out for dinner after she changed, but...” I raised an eyebrow. “Edgar and Harvey are here.”
Griffen let out a grunt and nodded. “They’re with Hope right now. Edgar was interested in those diaries from the housekeeper around the turn of the century that she and Savannah found. Harvey tagged along. They’ll be back.”
“Turn of the century diaries?” I asked. Not that it was my business, but I’m the police chief.
It’s my job to be a nosy fucker. And while I didn’t have anything concrete on either of them, I didn’t fully trust Edgar or Harvey.
Edgar, because he’d been up to his nose with Prentice and, to a degree, my father on business dealings that, while they might be legal, weren’t what I’d consider above board.
And Harvey... Harvey, for a lot of reasons, was primarily at the top of the list for letting the necklace get stolen and not calling me about it.
“I think the diaries were a bonus,” Griffen said, stroking Stella’s back through the carrier. “They both just showed up. Apparently, they called Finn to make sure there was enough and said they’d see us at 6 p.m. ”
“Weird.”
“Yep.” Griffen closed his laptop, leaning back in his desk chair. “Any movement in Sterling and Avery’s investigation?”
“Actually, yes. Hawk’s friend dug up the designer’s address.”
“Have you checked it out yet?”
“Tomorrow,” I said. “Avery couldn’t get away today, and neither could I. But I’ve got double coverage tomorrow, so I should be good to play hooky for a few hours.”
“Is she local? The designer?”
“Local enough. Out by Wolf Mountain. I can’t find a phone number—not one that gets answered—so we’ll go out there, see what we see. If it gets us any information we can use, I’ll owe your sisters one.”
A deep, resonant bong echoed through the house.
When we’d been kids, Miss Martha, Savannah’s mother and the housekeeper of Heartstone Manor for most of my life, had used the gong to call the family to dinner—a tradition that went all the way back to William Sawyer.
These days, I can’t remember the last time I’d heard it.
Everyone showed up to dinner on time, or Finn would refuse to feed you.
Nobody wanted to risk missing one of Finn’s meals.
“You guys back to using that thing?” I asked as we walked down the hall to the dining room.
“Only when Edgar or Harvey are here,” Griffen answered in a low voice. “Tradition, you know?”
“They do like their tradition,” I said. “Speaking of, you heard from my father lately? ”
Griffen’s eyes were amused, his tone light as he said, “Yep, we had a meeting yesterday.”
“He still being an asshole?” I asked.
“You know your dad. He doesn’t like change, but I think he’ll come around.”
“I told him to stop wasting his time, that you weren’t going to play his game,” I said.
“Yeah, I know, and thanks. But we’re going to have to work it out between the two of us.
” Griffen let out a breath, gripping my shoulder in a tight squeeze as we walked into the dining room.
“Your dad’s not a bad man, West. Frustrating.
Stubborn. Buried in the past, but he’s not a bad guy, you know what I mean? ”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. While my father could be short-sighted, selfish, old-fashioned, and kind of a blowhard, Griffen was right.
He wasn’t a bad man. He’d been a decent enough father, particularly considering the standards he’d grown up with.
He loved my mom, and in his own way, he tried to do right by the town.
As far as I was concerned, his way was outdated, but my dad was a whole different ball of wax than Griffen’s had been.
Prentice Sawyer had been a lot of things, and a shit human being was at the top of the list.
My eyes caught Avery’s across the room. I couldn’t stop the goofy smile I felt spread across my face. Griffen stepped closer. In a low voice, he said, “Avery seems happy.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“Good.” Griffen gave my shoulder another pat and turned for the head of the table and his customary seat by Hope.
Paige, the nanny, popped in to take baby Stella.
She had a quick word with Hope and disappeared.
The gong sounded again, almost deafening this close.
I turned to see it vibrating on the stand, no one within ten feet.
I might have wondered, but a youthful giggle sounded to my left, and when I glanced over, I caught sight of the kids—Scarlett and Tenn’s boys, August and Thatcher, and Savannah’s Nicky.
Thatcher, a teenager, had his arms crossed and was rolling his eyes.
I’d bet he had not been the one to ring the gong but knew who had.
It was hard to guess between August and Nicky.
They were both biting their lips, their cheeks pink, eyes guilty.
I winked, and they dissolved into another round of giggles.
Savannah turned up beside me. “No shrieking in the dining room,” she said, her eyes on the boys. She raised one red eyebrow, and the giggles dissolved into guilty silence. “Go wash your hands.”
The boys darted from the room. Sometimes the kids ate dinner with the adults.
Sometimes they ate in the kitchen with Finn and Savannah.
It looked like tonight would be a grown-up dinner.
Thatcher exchanged a look with Tenn, who tilted his head to the doorway with a grin.
Thatcher turned and followed his brother and Nicky to the kitchens.
Interesting. I’d had plenty of dinners in Heartstone Manor over the years.
Back in the day, children ate in the kitchen or at the breakfast table on the side of the dining room.
Since Griffen and Hope had taken over the house, most dinners were informal, despite the grandeur of the dining room.
Looked like when Edgar and Harvey stopped by, the house reverted to the formality of Prentice’s time .
Avery gestured me over to the seat beside her.
“Thanks. You talked to Edgar and Harvey?” I asked.
Avery shook her head. “They came in with Hope a second ago.” I glanced over, watching the two older men getting comfortable on the opposite side of the table.
They were talking in low voices. I couldn’t catch what they were saying.
Harvey had his eyes on the tablecloth in front of him, but Edgar was scanning the room, his eyes pausing as they met mine before moving on.
“They’re definitely up to something,” I murmured to Avery.
“Agreed,” she said.
Savannah and Kitty began serving the salad course and pouring wine. I considered strategies to get Edgar or Harvey to talk. Before I’d settled on a game plan, they went on the offense.