Chapter 2
Chapter Two
WEST
M y cell phone rang as I reshuffled the stack of paperwork on my desk. I dropped the file in my hand and reached for it. Anything for an excuse to push the paperwork off a little longer.
It was a toss-up whether the incoming call was personal or business. In a small town like Sawyers Bend, it seemed like everyone had the police chief’s cell number. I glanced at the screen and paused, not expecting to see Avery Sawyer’s name on the screen.
I’d known Avery practically since her birth.
She wasn’t just a citizen in my town; she was my closest friend’s younger sister, and Griffen and I had been best friends since kindergarten.
Although he’d left Sawyers Bend at twenty-one and had disappeared for a while, since he’d been back, we’d been as tight as ever.
He hadn’t held it against me when I’d put his brother in jail for killing their father.
He hadn’t said “I told you so” when Ford came home, exonerated by an alibi that had shown up, in my opinion, a little too conveniently .
I knew Ford hadn’t killed his father. I just hadn’t been able to prove it. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Whoever had killed Prentice Sawyer had been very smart or very lucky. Probably a combination of both. I was going to find him. I wouldn’t stop looking until I did.
The phone rang a second time. I stared down at Avery’s name on the screen, not liking the twinge of concern at the sight of her name on my phone.
I wouldn’t say Avery and I were friends, but we were more than friendly, and I could count on one hand the number of times she’d called me in her thirty-one years on earth.
Growing up, the eight years between us might as well have been a lifetime.
On top of that, Avery Sawyer did not ask for help.
Avery kept to herself and solved her own problems. She worked her ass off to get what she wanted, refusing to ride on her father’s coattails or make anything of her family name.
I suspected she saw being a Sawyer as more of a burden than a blessing.
If she was calling me this early on a Friday morning, something was wrong.
I tapped the green circle on the screen. “Avery, what’s up?”
“West.” She sounded breathless. “I just got to the brewery, and the taproom door is open.”
“Who worked last night?” I asked, standing and grabbing my keys. “Cammie?”
“Yeah, she’s never forgotten to lock the door.”
“Have you talked to her since?” I asked, closing my office door behind me.
If it were anyone else, my mind would have stuck on a simple B her anxious eyes double-checking every detail.
“Everything looks fine in here,” she muttered.
“I called Cammie, and she’s absolutely sure she locked the door last night.
She said she remembered because she left her phone inside and had to get the keys back out to lock up after she got it.
She said she always checks to make sure it’s locked after she turns the bolt. ”
“Who else has the keys? Did you give one to Dave?” I asked, thinking of her other part-time employee as I followed her through the brewery to her office.
“Only me and Cammie. Dave wasn’t working yesterday,” she answered absently, her voice fading away as we entered her office, her eyes narrowing on the stacks of papers and files.
She didn’t react to the mess, telling me that the organized chaos was business as usual.
“Everything looks fine. I—” She cut off as she looked at the center drawer of her desk.
It wasn’t open, but it was ajar just enough that I could see it hadn’t been locked.
Avery shook her head, staring down at it. “I locked that drawer, West. I always lock it.”
She yanked the drawer open, sending a pen and two pencils rolling wildly. I saw a few markers and a notepad. That was it.
“Avery, what was in there?” I asked.
“Fuck,” she said, crouching to look in the back of the drawer. Reaching in, her hand slid across the wood, fingers seeking and coming up with nothing.
“Ave, what’s missing?” I pressed, but she didn’t answer.
“Oh, goddammit,” she turned around, her eyes wildly skating over the piles of papers and boxes, clearly looking for something.
“Avery, stop. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.” I closed a hand over her shoulder and forced her to look at me.