Chapter 8
I followed Sheriff Myers back toward his truck, pausing to look back at my mom, whose eyes were nearly as wide as her slender face. It made me feel sick to my stomach, and all I could think about was Garrett, staggering around behind the bar last night. Did something happen to him?
“Um, would you mind telling me what this is about?” I turned back to the sheriff, who walked with a slight forward lean, favoring his left leg. He had always had that gait, and I wrung my hands to keep the memories at bay.
He stopped when we made it to his truck, and turned around, leaning his body against the hood. “Well, for starters, why don’t you tell me where you were last night, Beth.”
There was something in his voice that rang my lawyer alarm bell, and I proceeded cautiously. “I went out for some drinks with Sarah Armitage, and then I came home.” My gaze flickered over to Blaze, who had joined my mom on the porch, his eyes trained in my direction. “Is something wrong, Sheriff Myers? I spoke with Blaze when I got here.”
He let out a heavy sigh before removing his cowboy hat and setting it on the hood. “Yeah, actually something is wrong, Miss Young. What time did you leave the bar last night? And what time did you get home?”
My stomach began to churn at the routine questions. “Um, somewhere around ten-thirty, I think. It might’ve actually been a little before or after that. I was here by eleven though. I know that.”
“And can anyone confirm your arrival time home?”
I bit my lip. “I-I mean, yeah. I told you that I spoke with Blaze when I first got home. They were working some horses in the arena, and he asked me to come watch. I didn’t though. I was tired. I don’t really get where you’re going with this though,” I added quickly, my voice shifting from nervous to stern. He may have caught me off-guard, but I wasn’t going to stay that way.
He was silent for a few beats, and my heartbeat throbbed in the moment of quiet. Finally, he folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. Sarah Armitage’s body was found under Hollow Creek Bridge, just a mile and a half from here. Now, according to some of the fellas in town, they said they saw you with her at Outlaws last night.”
I blinked at him a few times, still trying to process what I was hearing. “Wait, Sarah is... dead ? Is that what you’re saying?”
His eyes bore into mine, mirroring that of his son’s—though not reddened by alcohol. “That is what I just said, Beth. Now, I just need you to tell me anything and everything that you can remember about last night, and don’t leave anything out. Smallest detail might be helpful.”
I swallowed hard, replaying the events in my head. “Uh, I met Sarah for drinks around eight-thirty. I was early. We chatted for about an hour? I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I just know that her phone was going off like crazy and she kept silencing it.” Sheriff Myers nodded, jotting things down on a notepad. “After that, it was probably like nine-thirty when she randomly said that she needed to go to the bathroom—and then she never came back.”
That last bit caught his attention and his head jerked upwards. “So what? She just left?”
“Um, well, I watched her walk down the far hallway at the back of Outlaws. I never realized that wasn’t where the bathroom is. When she hadn’t returned for like twenty minutes, I went looking for her and realized the only thing at the end of the hallway was an exit to the back.” I could feel myself beginning to ramble, but I kept myself in check. I was a lawyer for heaven’s sake. I knew how to handle the police...
Though I’d never been the one being questioned about a crime.
“Okay, so what did you do when you couldn’t find her? And did you by chance see who she had been talking to—on her phone?” His tone had lightened a little, probably because I was obviously cooperating with him to the best of my ability. Maybe.
“I don’t know who she was talking to,” I admitted with a shrug. “I only know that her phone just kept going off—over and over. She seemed more annoyed by it than anything else. I don’t know if that’s actually helpful though.” I shook my head, some of my messy hair falling from my bun on top of my head. “I, um, I actually went out the back door?—”
“To look for Sarah?”
Putting words in my mouth.
“No, actually,” I corrected him. “I honestly just assumed that she had gone somewhere else. She’s a grown woman, and I don’t really know her that well.”
“So then why were you out for drinks with her?”
“Uh, because we ran into each other at the grocery store, and she asked me.” I felt confused as I explained—and also... guilty. Why didn’t I look harder for her? I should’ve called her or something... “I hadn’t seen her since high school, to be honest. We were never close. I really don’t know why she wanted to catch up.”
“Yeah, okay, so you accept the random invitation to go out for drinks and she slips off, then what?” Sheriff Myers is a hard man to read, his tone continuing to change sentence by sentence. First, he’s cold, then he’s bright and friendly, and now he’s just monotone.
“I stepped outside the back of the bar, thinking that it would keep me from having to go back through the crowd. I figured I’d just go home from there. I don’t know.” My hands began to sweat as I thought about what was to come, and what I would have to admit.
“And did you see anything suspicious?”
I hesitated, that eerie somber feeling creeping over me. “No, not really.”
“Not really?”
“I saw...” my voice trailed off as I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath.
Why was it so hard to say his name?
“Who did you see, Beth?”
“ Garrett .”
Sheriff Myers’ mouth twitched, though his expression remained the same. “Like my son, Garrett? Or a different Garrett?”
“Your son,” I said quietly. “I stepped out the back door and the motion lights didn’t come on immediately. I don’t know why… I don’t know what he was doing. He was just there .”
“Stumbling around drunk, probably,” he grunted in a barely audible voice. “His brother was working there for a while last night. Probably cut him off.” He paused, his expression faltering. “Anyway, tell me what happened next.”
I tugged at the hem of my gray T-shirt. “We had a very short conversation and then I left.”
“What did you talk about with him?” Sheriff Myers asked but then stopped himself, letting out a sharp breath. “Actually, that doesn’t matter. Um,” he popped his lips. “Did you see anyone else on your way out?”
“No, well,” I corrected myself. “There was a group of some people standing right out front, but I didn’t know who they were—and I don’t think they even noticed me leaving. I went straight home after that, spoke to Blaze, and then went to bed.”
And barely slept.
“Okay, and you didn’t see any signs of Sarah once you exited the bar?” His eyes locked with mine, and I could see something there that wasn’t when we had first started our conversation. “Anything that stands out? It might not mean anything to you, but it could mean the break in the case for us.”
I nodded in understanding. “I can’t think of anything.”
Except for the stain Garrett’s shirt.
My mind replayed the massive dark spot on Garrett’s T-shirt and my stomach lurched. It had been too dark to see what color it was...
“Beth?” Sheriff Myers caught my attention. “ Did you see something?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, the image still at the forefront of my mind. “No. I don’t think so. I was just so tired and ready to get home.”
He nodded slowly, but before he could say anything else, the sound of another vehicle pulling in the drive caught his attention. “What the…”
I turned to see what he was staring at, and instantly felt lightheaded at the sight of a black one-ton Dodge making its way toward us. I couldn’t see who was driving, but I already knew, just based on the expression on Sheriff Myer’s face.
“What’s he doing here, Beth?” His voice was sharp, as he turned his attention back to me.
I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I don’t know.” My gaze flickered back up to the porch, and the look on both Mom and Blaze’s faces had me feeling even worse about it. I wrapped my arms around myself as the truck came to a stop on the other side of Sheriff Myer’s truck. The driver’s side door opened, and out stepped a man in dark gray cowboy hat, built just like the sheriff—only younger.
“What are you doin’ here?” Sheriff Myers popped the question, losing all sense of professionalism as Garrett rounded the front of his truck. “Ain’t like you to be sober this early.”
A clear-eyed Garrett glared at him. “I have to work today, Dad.”
“Then you should be at work,” he shot back.
I stared at the two of them, noting that Garrett was cleaned up, wearing a black T-shirt and fresh light wash jeans. His dark facial hair was a neat five o’clock shadow, like he had taken the time to clean up. I hated the fact I couldn’t rip my gaze away, realizing that Garrett hadn’t aged nearly as much as I thought he had last night.
“I came to talk to Beth,” Garrett said flatly .
“About last night?” Sherriff Myer’s voice dropped, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Because you need to be at work, not making a scene out here. There’s an audience up there on the porch. If you want to rehash your stupid mistakes, you need to do so somewhere else.”
Garrett didn’t flinch, and he’d yet to even look at me. “Thanks for the head’s up. So you’re done here then? Or do I need to wait my turn?”
Sheriff Myers shook his head and turned to me. “If you think of anything, you make sure and tell me. You know where to find me, and if you don’t want to take a trip down to the office, just give the main number a call. There’s always someone there answering the phones. Okay?”
“Right,” I choked out. “Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll leave you two,” he grunted, and then turned to Garrett. “You keep your head on straight.”
Garrett nodded to him, and then stepped out of the way. However, the sheriff didn’t leave. Instead, he headed up to the back porch, grumbling under his breath.
My nerves were already fried from the news I’d just received, and as I brought my eyes up to Garrett, he now was looking at me. We stood there for a few moments that felt like hours, staring at each other once again.
“You wanna go somewhere?” he finally asked, looking past me to the porch.
I turned to see what he was looking at and frowned at the sight. My mother’s eyes were wide as Sheriff Myers spoke to her and Blaze. I could only imagine how shocking the news was to her. However, Blaze stood unmoved, and his gaze wasn’t on Sheriff Myers at all.
It was on me.
“We can take a drive.”
I whipped my head back to him. “You really think I want to get in a truck with you?” My tone was icy, and he flinched at it, but didn’t match my coldness in return.
“You really wanna talk for the first time in sixteen years with an audience?”
I blew out a breath. “No, I don’t. I don’t know if I want to talk at all. I didn’t think you’d actually show up here. I didn’t think you’d remember anything about last night.”
He held my gaze. “When a ghost shows up, Beth, drunk or otherwise, you don’t forget it—trust me, I’ve tried.”