Chapter 29 #2
Lunch? I can pick you up a sandwich and chips, bring it by.
Sounds perfect. Thanks.
A sweet fizz of anticipation hit my chest. West and I had spent all of our free time together since he’d arrested Matthew, and it wasn’t enough.
I suspected it would never be enough. There was no such thing as too much West. And now he was bringing me lunch.
Because that was the guy he was. Thoughtful.
And hot. Maybe I’d give Ford his chance at the taps and drag West off to my office. I could lock the door and?—
From across the room, I watched as Ford reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope, sliding it across the table to Cole, who picked it up and tucked it into his own back pocket.
Very interesting—or it would be, if I had any idea what was in that envelope.
It made me uneasy trying to imagine what it could be. A check for services rendered?
I’m sure Ford would tell me it was none of my business.
And that was true. But I was his little sister, and I was curious.
Maybe I’d work up the nerve to ask at some point.
Ford wasn’t exactly approachable when it came to the details of his personal life, but if the right moment would present itself.
.. Until then, I’d have to live with not knowing.
It felt like I did that a lot these days, and oddly, I was getting more okay with it.
Ford pushed his seat back and stood. Cole Haywood followed suit. They clasped hands over the table with a firm shake, saying something I couldn’t quite catch.
Ford sat back down, and Cole headed toward me.
“I liked that breakfast stout, Avery,” Cole said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m so glad,” I said. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“What do I owe you?” He reached for his back pocket.
“It’s on the house,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving me another, friendlier smile, the one I always thought of as his campaign smile—the same smile he might use if he were running for office, shaking hands and kissing babies, his perfect wife by his side.
I’d always thought Cole looked like he’d be perfect for politics.
And at that thought, a cascade of images crashed over me.
Cole, standing beside his perfect wife, who’d died in childbirth right around the time Prentice had stopped the renovations on Heartstone Manor.
Cole. Whose perfect wife had been named Caro Haywood.
Caro, short for Caroline.
I felt the blood drain from my face, prickles in my fingers spreading up my arms and down my spine. My mouth sagged open. Could it...? But he was Ford’s lawyer. He would have?—
A wave of icy horror went over me as I stared up into Cole Haywood’s cool blue eyes. As Ford’s lawyer, he would have been in a perfect position to make sure Ford was convicted of Prentice’s murder.
Oh, fuck.
I snapped my mouth shut and blinked, trying to get myself together.
“You okay, Avery?” Cole asked, a chill in his tone that sent a blade of ice up my spine.
We locked gazes, and for a split second, I saw comprehension in his blue eyes. Then it was gone, masked by that genial campaign smile.
“You looked a little dizzy there for a second,” he said. “Do you need to sit down?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just tired, I guess.”
“Well,” he reached across the bar and patted me on the shoulder, “get some rest. It’s a lot, running a place like this by yourself.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said, my stomach twisting, wishing he would just leave so I could fucking think.
I needed to think. I felt crazy standing here having this friendly conversation with the man who might have shot my father and framed my brother for murder.
Who’d tried to kill Griffen and then Royal and had likely murdered Ford’s ex-wife, Vanessa.
I nodded at Cole, watching as he turned, lifted a hand in farewell to Ford, and headed out the door, the edge of the white envelope Ford had given him sticking out of his back pocket.
“Avery, you all right?” Ford asked.
I was so not ready to voice what I knew in my gut was the truth. Not until I could think it through, talk to West. Sterling. Something.
“I, uh, yeah. I just need to go in the back for a second,” I said. “Can you watch the taps if anybody comes in?”
“Sure, I got it,” Ford said. “Take your time. I’ll give a shout if I can’t figure anything out.”
“Okay,” I said, pushing through the swinging door to the quiet of the brewery.
I paced the open space in the center of the brewery.
Was I crazy? I was connecting dots all over the place.
Okay, so Cole’s wife had died in childbirth, along with their baby, three years ago.
Or was it four? What if Caro was Caroline?
Had she been planning to leave Cole? Had he known before her death?
Was the baby Prentice’s or Cole’s? So many questions. I couldn’t sort it all out in my head.
I wanted to call Griffen, but I should talk to Sterling first, since she was the only other one who knew about Caroline Sawyer/possibly Caro Haywood.
Sterling could tell me if I was crazy. Or maybe I’d go flip the lock on the front door and see what my brothers thought, since they happened to be right there in my taproom.
If they didn’t think I was nuts, we could call Sterling and?—
I caught the noise of a scuff of a shoe on the concrete floor of the brewery. Turning, I froze.
Cole Haywood stood in front of me.
“I don’t know how you know,” he said, “but you do, don’t you?”
I opened my mouth with some vague idea of saying “Know what?” like I was clueless, but I didn’t get that far.
Cole raised his hand in a fast arc. I heard a buzz and felt a burn on the side of my neck. Pain arced through me as every muscle in my body locked, and everything went dark.