Chapter 23 #2
He cut me off with a shake of his head. “I know you’ve never asked.” He studied my face for a long moment. “She didn’t do it,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.
“No,” I said, setting the bourbon on the side table. A sip had been enough. I needed to keep my head straight.
“And you’re sure?” he pressed. “Even with thin evidence, it doesn’t mean she’s innocent. Even if someone was trying to set her up, she may be into something you don’t know about.”
“You don’t know her,” I said. “You don’t know anything about her if you think she would have done this.”
My father leaned forward in his chair. “I know enough. I know people are capable of a lot of things we don’t want to think they could do.” He raised an eyebrow. “I know you two have been seeing each other. Your mother wants to know why she hasn’t come to dinner yet.”
I scrubbed a hand across my face. “Because it’s new. Because we hadn’t gotten to that yet.” I drew in a breath and let it out. “We talked about Thanksgiving.”
My father’s eyes brightened. “Really? Well, that’s interesting. Your mother would love to have her for Thanksgiving.”
I shook my head. How could we be having this conversation right now?
Avery needed to see the doctor. And she was safe enough in my jail, for now, but if someone was setting her up, I needed to get her out of there, not talk holiday plans with my father.
It was easier to answer than to try to put him off.
“She wanted to invite us to Heartstone Manor for Thanksgiving. She thought it’d be fun—a big family holiday. Edgar and Harvey will be there.”
“So, it has gotten that far,” he said, and the simple confirmation shook me.
I nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. Despite our argument the other day, and her kicking me out of the brewery, I hadn’t doubted we’d figure it out. I could be an overbearing, bossy pain in the ass sometimes. It went with the job.
Who was I kidding? It was who I was. I wanted everyone safe and happy and whole, and sometimes I thought the best way to do that was for everyone to do what I said.
Made sense to me. She was wrong about chasing the necklace.
But I understood why she didn’t want to give up.
I got the pull of family and justice better than most people. We would have worked it out.
But now?—
“How are you so sure she didn’t set that fire?” my father asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“She didn’t do it, Dad. Not in a million years. She doesn’t have it in her.” There was a lot I didn’t know, but I was dead certain about that. Avery hadn’t set that fire.
My father nodded and stood. “Finish that bourbon. I’ll be back.” He took his phone with him.
I looked at my abandoned glass and left it where it was.
I had work to do. Step one: get Avery out of jail.
There was the fast way and the slow way.
The slow way was to investigate the crime until we found proof of her innocence, or wait, press charges, and hope the judge granted bail.
All of that meant leaving Avery in jail overnight.
And that wasn’t going to happen. No fucking way.
She hadn’t set that fire. But someone had.
And unfortunately, the list of prospects was too long.
At the top of the list was Matthew, the main person I knew who had a specific grudge against Avery.
But since Prentice’s death, the Sawyers had faced varying kinds of sabotage and outright attacks.
Someone had gone after the Inn at Sawyers Bend, trying to dump cockroaches in the air intake and canceling produce orders.
That had escalated to an outright attack that had been meant for Royal Sawyer.
Not long after that, Ford’s ex-wife had been killed in the gardens of the Inn in such a way that if Tenn’s wife, Scarlett, hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, the murder most certainly would have been pinned on him.
And now we had another Sawyer who looked guilty of a crime I was absolutely certain she hadn’t committed. But someone wanted me to think Avery Sawyer was at fault.
Who? And how the hell was I going to figure it out in time to keep her out of jail for good?
One thing at a time , I reminded myself as my father walked back into the room.
“Paperwork’s being faxed over. You’ll have it in a few minutes. You can go get your woman out of jail, though I’d recommend you keep it quiet.”
I raised an eyebrow, and he explained what I would have put together already if I hadn’t been so rattled by the sight of the woman I loved behind bars. The thought rocked me. Was that who she was? The woman I loved? Wasn’t this too fast? Weren’t we just having fun?
No. This wasn’t just fun. Avery was more than a woman I’d known most of my life, more than my best friend’s little sister. She was mine. I’d claimed her with that first kiss, and I wasn’t letting go. We could do this slowly, if that’s what she needed, but Avery belonged with me.
My father watched with amused patience as my brain caught up with my heart. When he knew he had my attention, he said, “Whoever did this wants you to think she’s guilty.”
I followed his train of thought. “So, I’ll let him think I bought it, though, if that’s the plan, I should leave her in jail.”
My father shook his head. “But you’re not going to do that.”
“No, I’m not.” I wasn’t leaving her sitting in that cell, even if it was the strategic thing to do. She needed a doctor, a hot shower, and rest.And I needed her behind the walls of Heartstone Manor, insulated by Hawk’s security team, out of reach of whoever had set that fire and almost killed her.
“I’m proud of you, son,” my father said.
“Because I’m breaking the law to get my girlfriend out of jail?” I asked, a tiny smile cracking the side of my mouth.
He smiled and shook his head. “You make it sound so simple, but I know it’s not.
Not for you who wants everything to be black and white, right or wrong.
But life isn’t like that, West. You know as well as I do, most of life is grey, and sometimes we have to do the wrong thing to do the right thing.
That girl doesn’t belong in jail, and we both know it. ”
“You don’t know her well enough to say that,” I said.
“But I know you.” His eyes warmed as he stood, crossing the room to open a cabinet that hid his home office equipment. He pulled papers off the fax machine and handed them to me. “If you believe she’s innocent, that’s good enough for me.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I leaned in to give him a one-armed hug.
“Tell Avery we’ll be at Thanksgiving dinner,” he called after me.
I drove back to the station in a daze. On the way to my parents’ house, I’d imagined begging my father for help while he lorded it over me.
We’d fought so often over my refusal to bend the rules, I’d figured he’d make me work for it.
I’d forgotten that at the end of the day, he was still my father.
He might wish I were more like him, but he loved me.
He wanted me to be happy. And, the cynical side of my mind reminded me, he probably didn’t hate the idea of me hooking up with a Sawyer.
Putting my vehicle in park, I sat behind the wheel for a minute, trying to put together a game plan. I had the judge’s order to get Avery out of jail. That was step one. Now I had to figure out what came next.