28. Lennon
28
LENNON
T he hotel room door opened and closed with a click as CJ let himself in. Crusts of sleep clung to the corners of my eyes, even though I hadn’t gotten much rest. Tossing and turning was all I had done for the last seven hours.
“Len?” CJ’s voice called out.
I cut the water to the sink and grabbed a hand towel to pat my face dry. “In the bathroom.”
Knuckles rapped on the door. “Can I come in?”
I yanked it open and found him on the other side of the door with a cup of coffee in his hand.
CJ had been up all night, bouncing between the mess at the bunkhouse and the room we had crashed in at the lodge. Apparently, being attached to a Griffith had its perks. Namely, fancy hotel stays whenever we wanted.
“How bad is it?” I asked, swallowing the emotion and wearing the poker face I thought I had finally cashed in.
The idea of cops crawling all over the ranch made me sick, but CJ never once made me feel vulnerable. We stole away to the lodge and slipped into a room. When things seemed to settle down, he went out to see what had happened.
CJ sighed and swiped through his phone, showing me pictures of the room that had become my safe haven. “It’s not good.”
Someone had pulled every piece of furniture away from the walls. The dresser drawers were open and spilling over. Clothing cascaded from wire shelves in our shared closet, creating a tangled heap on the floor.
The bathroom door was open, giving a look at the ransacked state of it all. Bottles and sprays were scattered across the floor. The under-sink cabinet was wide open, having been cleared out so the person could pull the plywood base out of it. Floor planks had been yanked up in a haphazard pattern.
The scene painted a picture of rage. It wasn’t methodically searched. It was impulsive and chaotic. No wonder Reed and Jackson had woken up.
The cowboys who lived in the bunkhouse could sleep through a nuclear explosion and barely stir.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I turned the light off and slipped back into the luxurious suite.
If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, I would have soaked up every moment in the room. It was, by far, the swankiest place I had ever slept. The thought of how much one of these rooms would cost for a night made me slightly nauseous.
Beautiful wood beams with a rich brown stain planked the ceiling. Crisp white sheets and clouds of comforters and pillows were piled high on the beds. Thoughtful amenities like fresh-cut flowers and pillow chocolates dotted the room. A stocked mini-fridge and coffee bar were up against the wall. Pastries and breakfast bites had been delivered this morning in case we didn’t want to eat on the patio with the other guests.
I wanted to devour them, but I couldn’t stomach the thought.
French doors swung wide, opening onto an ornate balcony with two lounge chairs. Snaking vines danced along the wrought-iron bars.
The view was incomparable. Endless plains stretched as far as the eye could see. Clusters of cattle dotted the horizon. Ranch hands on horseback raced across the fields as the sun lifted higher and higher into the sky.
“Where’s your head at, Len?” CJ asked as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
I had wandered onto the balcony and stared out at the cattle. “It’s all my fault.”
“Baby, it’s not,” he said softly as he braced his hands on the railing and rested his forehead on the back of my shoulder. “You didn’t do a damn thing to deserve this, so get that bullshit out of your head.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
CJ sighed. “The cops are gone, but you should lay low today. They’re out looking for your brother, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I’ll stay here until I have to go into the restaurant.”
His body stiffened behind me. I knew he wasn’t going to like that answer, but I didn’t have another choice.
“Besides—” I turned and walked back into the suite “—you have to work today. Life doesn’t stop just because we want it to.”
“Len—”
A pounding fist on the door cut off his plea. I froze mid-stride and glanced back at him.
CJ looked equally startled. The weary expression he had been wearing since he walked in the door morphed into stone. “Get in the bathroom.”
“What?”
He reached into the back waistband of his jeans, grabbing hold of a pistol.
“Oh my God! Are you for real right now? Do you know how much trouble I could get in because you have a?—”
“Get in the bathroom. Lock the door,” he snapped. “You do realize I carry a gun for work, right? We’re on a cattle ranch in the middle of fucking nowhere, and the police response time sucks.”
The person on the other side of the door pounded again.
“I don’t think bad guys usually knock,” I hissed as I slipped into the bathroom. “Get rid of whoever it is, and then I’m going to bitch you out.”
“Understood,” he said. “Lights off.”
My heart was in my throat as I stood against the locked door and listened to the conversation on the other side.
CJ yelled for someone to get lost, but Christian’s voice cut in. What was he doing here?
A woman’s voice broke through the chorus of men. Probably Cassandra.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door, and I jumped, smacking my elbow on the sink. I bit my lip, whimpering to stave off this skittering pain that lanced through my funny bone.
Sweet fuck, that hurt.
“Len, come out for a sec,” CJ said.
My heart raced and my head spun. Beads of sweat broke out all over my neck.
CJ tapped on the door. “Len.”
I swallowed the anxiety, cracked the door open, and peered out. CJ, Christian, Cassandra, and two grim-looking police officers crowded the room.
Cassandra looked like a guard dog, standing with her arms crossed as she filled the space between the entryway and the bedroom. Christian sat on the edge of the bed. The cops stood next to the TV, handcuffs gleaming on their belts.
CJ slipped his arm around my waist, holding me back against his chest.
“MissMaddox, I’m Officer Tate,” the older looking cop said. He gestured to his partner. “This is Officer Strickland. We’re with the Bell County Sheriff’s Department.”
I said nothing.
“Maybe get on with it and skip the formalities,” Cassandra said.
Christian sighed. “Cass . . .”
“Ma’am, are you aware that your brother, Justin Maddox, was recently released from prison?”
I wasn’t talking. Not without an attorney present.
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get to the point already.”
The older officer removed his hat and tucked it under his arm. “Ma’am, we believe your brother was the one who broke into the house here last night.”
Not a surprise. There were only two possible suspects.
“This morning, he was found deceased in a vehicle about thirty miles from here, just outside of the town limits. Investigators found evidence of the burglary inside the vehicle.”
The room spun and tilted sideways.
“Whoa—hey, hey, hey.” CJ caught me as my knees buckled. “I’ve got you.”
“I need to sit down,” I stammered as I pawed at the bed.
CJ brought me down with him, sitting far enough back on the mattress to keep me secure between his legs.
“MissMaddox, we have reason to believe foul play was involved,” the other officer said. “He was a long way from where he was supposed to be. Do you know of anyone who would want to kill him?”
I shook my head. “I’d tell you if I knew,” I croaked.
“Why do you think it was murder and not suicide or an accident?” Cassandra asked.
The officer was frank. “Most people don’t slit their own throats. But given that there were no signs of a struggle, it seems he trusted the person enough to let them into his vehicle.”
“My stars,” Claire Griffith said as she opened her front door and shooed me in. “Come on in, child.”
I walked aimlessly inside after being delivered to her porch.
CJ was busy fixing the damage in the bunkhouse and didn’t want me anywhere near it, but also didn’t want me to be alone.
His mom wrapped me up in a tight hug and squeezed with all her might. “I’m so sorry, Lennon. Christian stopped by and told me what happened. Come on in the kitchen and sit a spell. Ray’s at physical therapy and Brooke’s working, so I’ve got Seth here with me this morning.”
The wind tunnel that had whipped up inside my ears when the cops broke the news hadn’t died down in the slightest. It felt like a fever dream.
“I’ve got sweet tea, hot tea, and coffee. What’s your poison?” she asked.
“Sweet tea, please,” I mumbled from where I sat on a barstool that was pushed up against the kitchen island.
Seth was busy scribbling in a coloring book. He spotted me and slid down two seats, grabbing my arm and filling in my tattoos with washable markers.
He did a terrible job.
Claire slid a glass in front of me. “Wanna talk about it?”
I trailed my finger up and down the beads of condensation on the side of the glass. “I don’t even know why I care that he’s dead.” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I focused on the blunt pressure of the marker moving around my wrist. “It’s not like he cared about me. It’s not like he ever loved me. He ruined my life.”
“But he was your family, even if he was only family in your mind,” Claire said gently. “It’s okay to grieve the idea of something. It’s okay to admit that we hold on to the hope of things being different. It’s okay to be hurt when things don’t end the way we want them to.”
Tears dropped onto the speckled stone countertop, one by one. “He was the only family I had left.”
Her smile was soft. “Brooke knows something about that. She lost her parents. So does Becks. Her brother died and she searched for answers for a long time. That’s what brought her to the ranch. Christian lost his first wife. You’re in good company here, honey.” Claire laid her weathered hand on top of mine. “You’ve had to be strong for so long. It’s time to lay your burdens down.”
Seth laid his little head against my bicep. I hung my head and let silent tears drip onto the kitchen island while Claire held my hand.
She was right. The greatest heartbreak wasn’t that I had lost someone who had done nothing but hurt me. It was that I lost the figment of what should have been.
It was the acute realization that I didn’t know where I belonged now. I guess that’s why people cared about their families, even when the family did nothing to deserve it.
We’re all just looking for a place where we belong.
Slowly but surely, the house filled up. Cassandra cut out of work early and headed up to the ranch house. We convened on the couch when Brooke joined after a few hours of paperwork, now that she was on maternity leave before the baby was born.
Becks and her daughter, Charlie, joined us when they wrapped up their homeschooling. She took over the tattoo coloring and did a far better job than Seth.
Christian’s daughters, Bree and Gracie, rounded out the bunch when they came home from school and crowded in.
There was an acute sadness that permeated the house. A morose tone whenever one of CJ’s brothers dropped in to see their spouse and kids and give me a hug.
But the women remained unfazed.
Hell, they were strong—none of them strayed away from hard topics. Even Christian’s teenagers asked thoughtful questions. Cassandra blamed therapy on their extreme emotional intelligence.
Night fell, and the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Cassandra said. “I called down to the restaurant and asked them to send some food up so no one had to cook.”
“I can get it,” I said as I jumped out of my spot on the couch. I needed a breather from spontaneous group therapy. I opened the door and found Julian on the other side, holding stacks of aluminum catering trays.
“Heard the news,” he said with a sad sort of smile. “Sorry about your brother, Len. Shit, I mean Chef. Sorry, Chef Maddox.”
“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for bringing this up.”
He followed me into the kitchen and stood still as I unloaded everything from his arms onto the counter. “You know the rule. When Cassandra calls, you don’t say no.”
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s the damn truth.”
“Holler if you need anything.”
“Do I smell brisket corn chowder?” Brooke squealed as she struggled to get up from the recliner she was parked in. “If I weren’t already married, I’d kiss you on the mouth.”
Julian laughed and gave a salute as he slipped out the door.
“What are you gonna do if the craving passes when the baby’s born?” I asked.
Brooke shrugged and tore into the soup container. “That will be future Brooke’s problem. I’m sure you’ll dream up something for the restaurant that will make the postpartum phase suck a little less.”
“You know where to find me when you want food.” I grabbed a handful of cutlery and piled it on the end of the counter to start the buffet.
Becks looked a little misty-eyed as she watched from the doorway with CJ’s mom.
“The boys did good, didn’t they?” Claire said.
Becks’s smile was soft. “It was a lot quieter when it was just you and me. But this is so much better.”