9. Garrett
CHAPTER 9
Garrett
“Dad, you have to try one of these,” Owen said around a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. “They’re so good.”
I eyed the box of cookies on the kitchen counter like they might bite. They certainly looked good. Perfect, even. Uniformly round and all the same size. Lightly browned edges and dotted with gooey chocolate chips.
What was I afraid of? That if I ate one of Harper’s cookies, it would cast a spell on me and I’d become hopelessly obsessed with her?
Yes. That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
I was already halfway there.
But the cookies did smell good. And if I didn’t eat one, Owen was going to inhale them all.
I picked up a cookie and the scent made my mouth water. I took a slow bite. Slightly crispy edges, chewy and warm in the middle. My eyes closed and I groaned.
“Oh my god.”
“Told you.”
“Don’t eat them all.” I batted Owen’s hand away as he tried to take another one. “You get half.”
“I helped make them. I should get four. ”
“You were there because you shoplifted. You should have to watch me eat them all.”
“Fine. Half is fair. I’ll save my last one for later.” He walked out of the kitchen and disappeared upstairs.
I took another bite. They were so buttery, with just the right amount of chocolate. I could have eaten a dozen of them.
But that didn’t mean I was going to obsess about Harper. Any more than I already was, at least.
She’d turned me into an idiot again when I’d picked up Owen. I wasn’t like my brothers Luke and Zachary, or even Theo. They always seemed to know what to say to women. I wasn’t like Josiah, either, who communicated mostly in lumberjack grunts, like our dad. But that star struck, tongue tied thing I did every time I saw Harper? That wasn’t me, either.
What was it about her?
I didn’t know. But I grabbed another cookie. They were too much for any man to resist.
The scent of cookies wafted past the desk. I glanced up to see Kate, one of our deputies, walk by with a pink Angel Cakes box. I started to get up, like a cartoon character following his nose, but managed to stop myself.
I had to go out on a half-day patrol shift soon, which was good. The scent of whatever Kate had brought from the bakery lingered in the air. But the cookies weren’t the problem.
It was Harper. She was the real temptation.
So far, I’d resisted the urge to stop by Angel Cakes—or even just circle it a few times. I kept telling myself I didn’t want a relationship. I didn’t want to date. I didn’t have time and it wasn’t worth the risk .
And all of those things were true. The thought of navigating a new relationship, trying to integrate another person into my life—and Owen’s—was too daunting.
Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about those green eyes. That dazzling smile. The way all that long blond hair would look fanned out over my pillow.
“Haven.” Kade’s voice broke me out of my stupor.
“Hey, Sheehan.”
He took a bite of a large cookie. “Just a heads up. Trent Jones is back on the streets. He made bail.”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
“Yeah, he’s a fun one. So I hear Sarge let you take the Joyner case.”
My brow furrowed. “I talked to him this morning. How do you know about it already?”
He shrugged. “Word gets around. You really have time to dig into a cold case?”
“In between everything else, I guess. I just want to see if there’s something we missed back then. You didn’t work the case at all, did you?”
“Nah. I was too green, just like you.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You’re a brave man, Haven.”
I glanced up at him. “Why?”
“That case is basically cursed. I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”
“Cursed? I didn’t think you were the superstitious type.”
“I am when it comes to unsolvable cold cases that are going to make the town gossip line go nuts. I wouldn’t want to be the object of that kind of scrutiny.”
“The case is over a decade old. I’m sure the gossip line won’t pick it up.”
“Don’t be so sure. I bet half the town knows already.”
“We’re already getting calls,” Brenna said as she walked by. She was my favorite dispatcher when I was on patrol .
“Calls about the Joyner case?” I asked.
“Yep. Did we catch the killer? Is the killer still out there? Are the trails safe? You’d think it just happened.”
“How the hell does anyone know I’m looking into it? I just started reviewing the case files.”
Brenna shrugged and glanced at Kade, who shrugged back.
It wasn’t confidential or anything. But it annoyed me that it was already town gossip. Freaking Tilikum.
“Did you try one of these?” Kade held up the remnant of his cookie. “They’re amazing.”
I shook my head. It didn’t make rational sense, but I was worried that if I ate one of Harper’s cookies, I’d black out and wind up at Angel Cakes Bakery, staring at her like a kid ogling cotton candy at the summer Mountain Man Festival.
“Your loss.” He walked away.
At least he’d left the sarcasm at home.
Ignoring the temptation of baked goods—and Harper Tilburn—I went back to reviewing the Joyner case. There was so much information to sift through. Interviews with family and friends, the hundreds of tips that had come in, the medical examiner’s findings, the evidence—or lack thereof—at the scene.
The murderer had been meticulous. He hadn’t left a shred of DNA. She hadn’t been sexually assaulted, which was interesting in and of itself. Murders of women were often sexually motivated, but this one didn’t seem to have been. And there hadn’t been so much as a hair or spot of blood on her body that wasn’t hers.
She had a minor head injury, ligature marks on her wrists that indicated restraint, and the cause of death was strangulation.
The working theory had been crime of opportunity. She’d been on a hiking trail where the perpetrator had assaulted and killed her. No one had come up with a motive, and a lot of people in town had decided it had been a vagrant. Some random criminal passing through had attacked the poor young woman and left, never to be seen again.
But had they missed something?
The location where I’d discovered the bracelet wasn’t where Jasmine’s body had been found. If it was her bracelet, how did it get there? Had she lost it before she went missing? How reliable was the description of what she’d been wearing when she disappeared?
There was one way to find out.
Her older sister, Jocelyn, had been the last person to see her alive. I found the interviews they’d conducted, both before her body had been found, and the follow up later. Sure enough, Jocelyn had listed the bracelet among the things she’d been wearing. They had a matching set and never took them off.
I kept reading through the interviews with Jocelyn. She’d been concerned that Jasmine’s ex-boyfriend might be involved. Not long before she was murdered, Jasmine had left what her sister described as a toxic relationship. I searched through the case notes and found the interview with the ex. He’d been on a fishing boat in Alaska when Jasmine had been killed—his alibi corroborated by numerous witnesses.
He’d been taken off the person of interest list, but as I kept reading through Jocelyn’s interview, something stood out. She said in the weeks prior to Jasmine’s initial disappearance, she’d received two packages from an unknown sender.
I kept reading, but the contents of the packages weren’t listed. I didn’t see another mention of them anywhere.
Hadn’t anyone looked into that? It seemed impossible that they hadn’t, unless it had been confirmed that the packages weren’t related. But why wasn’t there something in the file to indicate that?
I wondered if Jocelyn Joyner still lived in Tilikum. I wanted to talk to her—find out what the packages had been about. If I was lucky, maybe she still had them.
Probably not after a decade, but you never knew what people would hang onto.
Sergeant Denny, my direct supervisor, walked by and glanced at me, eyebrows raised. I had to head out on patrol to cover for another deputy who was on paternity leave. It was hard to tear myself away from the Joyner case, but I didn’t have much choice. Sometimes that was life in law enforcement—you did what you were told.
I stood. “Heading out, Sarge.”
“Be safe out there.”
“Will do.”
I went out to my patrol car and performed the requisite inspection, checking for dings or dents. I opened up the back seat and looked around, making sure there wasn’t any contraband left behind. The routine was part of protocol.
Then I got in and checked with dispatch to let them know I was available for assignment. “Squad seven, 10-8.”
“10-4, squad seven. Squad nine is responding to family trouble at 306 West Cherry Street. Stay in the area in case they need assistance.”
“10-4. Thanks, Bren.”
I headed out and drove around town, keeping my eyes open and listening to the radio chatter. Deputy Spangler was squad nine and he handled the family trouble call without needing anything from me. Family trouble usually meant a disagreement between family members that wasn’t domestic violence. It wasn’t a surprise Spangler was able to de-escalate whatever had been going on. He was good at it.
I drove past Lumberjack Park, where it looked like the Squirrel Protection Squad were having a meeting. A few of the members turned and waved as I passed. I lifted a hand to wave back. Law enforcement had an amicable relationship with the grassroots group. They’d ostensibly formed to help protect the local squirrel population in a time of crisis, but everyone knew they were really Tilikum’s civilian security force.
They’d watched out for my sister-in-law, Audrey. And helped with the search when Marigold had gone missing. As long as they didn’t get in the way of an investigation, I was happy to let them do their thing.
I came to the turn that would take me to Angel Cakes and I swear, the steering wheel moved on its own. I jerked it back so I’d go straight instead of turning. My Harper obsession was getting out of hand. I could have caused an accident.
Granted, no one else was on the road. But still. I needed to get her out of my head.
I circled the block and stopped at a four-way. Another car went through and the driver caught my eye as she passed.
Oh, shit. It was her.
Harper.
Without thinking, I pulled out behind her. What was I doing? She was probably on her way home. Was I going to follow her? What was that supposed to accomplish?
We came to another four-way intersection. She turned right.
So did I.
She also didn’t use a turn signal, but there was no way I was pulling her over. Next time she turned, I’d go the opposite direction. I couldn’t keep following her. I slowed down, putting more distance between us.
But when she turned left, what did I do? Yeah. Turned left.
She used her turn signal that time.
Turn around, Garrett. Do it. Turn around and stop following her.
Did I?
No. No, I did not.
She turned right and once again, didn’t use her turn signal. It was probably burned out on that side. Before I could contemplate what I was doing—or talk sense into myself—I flipped on my lights.
She slowed and pulled to a stop. I parked a short distance behind her.
What the hell was I doing?
I keyed my mic. “Squad seven.”
“Go ahead, squad seven.”
“Put me out with a traffic stop at 5806 West Cedar. White Toyota RAV4, one female occupant. Reason for stop is failure to use a turn signal.”
Brenna hesitated. “10-4, squad seven.”
“I’m just going to let her know. It’s probably out.”
“Uh-huh. 10-4.”
I rolled my eyes. Brenna knew me. She knew I didn’t usually pull people over for little things.
And what was I supposed to do now? Walk up to Harper’s car and ask her out?
Actually…
I got out of my car. I wasn’t going to do it. I was absolutely not going to ask her out. I didn’t want to start a relationship. I didn’t have time.
Except I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was driving me crazy.
She was driving me crazy.
I approached her car and she lowered her window.
“Um, hi officer. Is there a problem?”
I took off my sunglasses. “Hi, Harper.”
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh! Garrett. Wait. Why did you pull me over? Was I speeding? I’m sure I wasn’t speeding. What did I do?”
Her rambling was so cute, I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Nothing. It’s just…” There my brain went again, forgetting how to use words. “Your turn signal. It might be out. You didn’t use it. Twice. Just the right one.”
That was probably the least eloquent I’d ever been in my entire life, but at least I’d gotten to the facts.
“My turn signal? That’s weird. Can you check it for me?”
“Sure, yeah.” Exactly what I should have suggested. My brain really needed to catch up and start working. “Go ahead with the left one.”
She turned it on. I stepped back to make sure the lights were blinking. They were.
“That one works. Now the right.”
She pushed the lever down.
I walked around the car to check, then back to the driver’s side. “Passenger side rear is out. Front works.”
“Well that sucks.”
“Is there an indicator light on your dash or anything? A lot of cars alert you when a light is out.”
She glanced at her dashboard. “There might be but if there is, it didn’t work. That would be my luck. Do you know where to get a replacement light?”
The hint of worry in her voice tugged at something in my chest. A busted light wasn’t my problem, and it wasn’t even a big deal. But I had to fix this for her.
“I can grab one and help install it if you want.”
She gazed up at me and her big green eyes locked me in place. A car could have flown by at ninety miles an hour and I’d have been hard pressed to notice.
“Um.” She shook her head a little, as if to clear it. “That’s okay. I’m sure I can figure it out. There’s an auto parts store in town, right? I think I’ve seen it. I don’t know why I asked that question. I’ll be fine.”
I cracked a smile. She was sexy when she was flustered. “I really don’t mind.”
“I’m sure you’re busy with, you know, police stuff. Or, sheriff stuff or whatever you are.”
My smile grew. I put a hand on the top of her car and leaned down. “Sheriff’s deputy. How about this? We have dinner and I fix your turn signal. ”
Oh shit. I’d just asked her out.
“Like, right now?”
“I’m on duty until six and then I have to pick up Owen from my parents’ place.” Despite the slight panic rising in my chest, I’d already said it. No going back now. “So how about tomorrow? Are you free?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know if dating is a good idea for me right now.”
She’d just given me an out. I could have accepted her polite refusal, let her go about her business, and moved on.
Except, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.
“It’s just dinner. No pressure. And I promise I won’t miss this one.”
Her expression softened. “You promise?”
“Yes. Even if I’m chasing a bad guy. It’ll be his lucky day.”
She looked forward, rubbing her lips together, and gripped the steering wheel. It took her two, maybe three seconds, but the wait just about killed me.
“Okay, Garrett Haven. Dinner. And you fix my blinker.”
“Deal.”
“You’re not going to give me a ticket, are you?”
That almost made me laugh. “I’ll be lenient this time.”
Her lips turned up. “Thanks, deputy. Am I free to go?”
That smile was going to be the death of me. “Yes, ma’am. Be safe out there.”
“You too.”
She raised her window as I stepped back, her smile disappearing behind the glare of the sun on the glass.
I walked back to my car, half in a daze. Had I really just pulled her over, then asked her out?
And she’d said yes?
Practical, sensible Garrett Haven would never have done that.
I got in my car with a slight grin on my face, kind of glad that guy had gone missing for a minute.