Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
WEST
I tapped on the steering wheel of my SUV, waiting for the group of tourists—identifiable by all the shopping bags in their hands—to cross the road.
Things had calmed down since the leaves had begun to fall.
The second the road was clear, I pressed the gas, finishing my slow travel through town.
Everything was quiet, exactly the way I liked it.
I looked at the bag of sandwiches on the seat beside me.
So quiet, I could take a lunch break with Avery.
I frowned as my phone rang, blaring through the dashboard. Sterling’s name flashed on the screen. I tapped to answer.
“Sterling, what’s up?” I asked, a skitter of nerves going down my spine. Sterling and I weren’t strangers, but she didn’t usually call me.
“West, I called Avery, and she’s not answering. I figured it out.”
“You figured what out?” I asked, thinking there were any number of reasons Avery wouldn’t answer her phone, especially since she was short-staffed. But those nerves dancing up and down my spine didn’t like it.
“No, hold on a second. I just need to take a breath. Hold on.” The sound of her sucking in a deep, quick breath filled my car’s speakers.
She let it out in a whoosh. There was a jingle I imagined was her earrings rattling as she shook her head.
“Okay, sorry. It’s just. Okay. Emmett called. You know?—”
“I know who Emmett is,” I said.
“He found out my dad made a trust before he died for a Caroline Sawyer.”
“Who the hell is Caroline Sawyer?” I asked.
“Exactly what we were wondering. I called Avery and told her. She didn’t know either. I talked to Griffen. He didn’t know. Nobody knows who Caroline Sawyer is. And then I realized—Caroline Sawyer. Caro Haywood.”
That was all she said, but it was enough.
Far-fetched? Maybe. But when I started putting the pieces together.
Caro Haywood had died in childbirth, and the timeframe fit the age of the baby things they’d found in the attic—and if Caro Haywood was the Caroline Sawyer that trust had been intended for, that meant that Cole Haywood, Ford’s attorney?—
“Fuck,” I said.
“I know, right?” Sterling said, her voice caught between exhilaration and worry. “I didn’t see that one coming. And the thing is, Griffen said Ford went with Finn to Sawyers Bend Brewing because he was going to meet Cole Haywood. So, I’m freaking out that Avery’s not answering her phone.”
Logical. The skitters down my spine turned to ice .
“Did you call Ford and Finn?”
“Yeah, they didn’t answer either. But Ford doesn’t take his phone with him half the time, and Finn ignores his a lot, so?—”
“And Avery could be serving customers,” I said, trying to reassure Sterling. My gut wasn’t buying it.
“I know, but— Are you closer than I am?” she asked. “I?—”
“Where are you?” I asked, cutting Sterling off.
“I’m at Heartstone. Quinn closed Outdoor Adventures today.”
“Is Hawk at Heartstone? Or did he and Quinn go out somewhere?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think he’s here.”
“Alright. Don’t worry. I was headed to Sawyers Bend Brewing anyway. I’m only a few minutes away. I’ll keep you posted. And Sterling—don’t leave Heartstone Manor until you hear from me. Got it?”
“Okay. Just let me know when everything’s okay. Please.”
“I will.”
I hung up on Sterling and pressed the gas pedal a little harder.
I didn’t flick on my reds and blues. If Haywood was there, but Avery hadn’t put the pieces together, I didn’t want to spook him.
Sterling could be wrong. Caro Haywood might not be Caroline Sawyer, and even if she were, it didn’t mean that Cole had killed Prentice and come after the rest of the Sawyers.
And even if he had, it didn’t mean Avery was in danger from him.
She didn’t always have her phone on her when she was working in the taproom, and both Finn and Ford weren’t usually glued to theirs either.
But I could feel it. She was in danger.
Despite those reasonable explanations, I pulled up Hawk’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“I need you to head to Sawyers Bend Brewing. Did you talk to Sterling?”
“No, I was out on the grounds with Quinn until a few minutes ago.”
I filled him in on the pieces Sterling and Emmett had put together.
“It’s a stretch,” Hawk said, “but also not a stretch.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. I remembered the flash of Caro’s green eyes, her perfectly styled golden hair. “Cole was head over heels for her, but Caro—I could see her angling at being mistress of Heartstone Manor, the wife of Prentice Sawyer. She would have seen it as trading up.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Hawk said. “I’m on my way.”
He didn’t reassure me that everything was probably fine. Hawk had seen too much to fall back on comforting platitudes.
The front door to Sawyers Bend Brewing was propped open, perfect for the crisp fall afternoon. I jogged up the front steps, telling my heart to calm down. Seeing Ford behind the bar didn’t relax me.
“Where’s Avery?” I barked.
He set a pint glass on the counter, taking in my face before his eyes narrowed. “She went in the back a few minutes ago,” Ford said. “Why? What happened? ”
“How many minutes ago?” I demanded, looking at the closed door between the taproom and the brewery.
“I don’t know.” Ford frowned. “Maybe ten?”
Finn came out of the tiny kitchen tacked onto the end of the bar, wiping his hands on a cloth. “God, it’s filthy in there.” He caught sight of me and stopped. His eyes fixed on my face. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Avery?” I asked again.
“In the back.” He looked at Ford. “Was she going to be gone that long? I know you said you could handle the bar and it’s empty in here, but I lost track of time,” he said, his gaze flicking back to me. “What is it?”
I didn’t answer. I had more questions. “Haywood still here?”
“No, he left,” Ford said.
“Before or after Avery went in the back?” I asked, heading for the swinging door, my hand hovering over the sidearm at my hip.
“Before,” Ford said. “Just before,” he clarified slowly. “What’s wrong, West?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I said, more interested in locating Avery than explaining Sterling’s information.
I pushed through the swinging door, resisting the urge to rush, letting it open slowly, scanning the brewery as it was revealed inch by inch. Empty. If Haywood were in here, he would be hiding. Avery was nowhere to be seen.
I headed to the table in the back, saw the crates of bottled beer—the new recipe.
Had she opened one? She’d been waiting for Thanksgiving.
On a table beside it was her arrangement of mystery ingredients.
The orange peels were on the ground beside a slice of star anise.
I glanced up, scanning the room. The door closest to the parking lot was ajar. Just a sliver.
Fuck. Fuck. Avery wouldn’t have left these ingredients on the ground, and she definitely wouldn’t have left the door open.
Fuck.
I raced across the room and yanked the door open to see the parking lot empty except for Avery’s car. I texted Hawk.
Avery’s missing. Check her phone?
A second later, he called. “Phone’s at Sawyers Bend Brewing, but I have her tagged.”
“Of course you do,” I murmured, grateful for Hawk’s paranoia.
“It’s in her watch,” he said. “Since she rarely takes it off. One sec.”
“Where are you?” I asked while I waited.
“I’m at the gates of the Manor. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Get me a location on Avery,” I said. “You can catch up.”
“She’s on the move,” Hawk said a moment later. “Headed out of town. East. I’ll forward the tracking to you so you can follow.”
I raced back through the brewery and taproom, shouting to Avery’s brothers, “Lock up and go back to Heartstone. Sterling will fill you in.”
I didn’t have time to explain. All that mattered was getting to Avery.