Chapter Two #2
To the right was the exact opposite setting.
Instead of smooth oak boards, they used repurposed barn planks that contrasted nicely with the neon signs advertising local breweries and wineries.
The lighting was darker, the music louder, and all but one of the many televisions broadcast local and national sports.
His aunt Debbie had insisted that at least one screen feature shows from her favorite home improvement networks and display the chosen questions on trivia night.
They hadn’t followed the karaoke craze at the height of its popularity, but Uncle Rick had mentioned making room for the equipment and a mock stage in one corner of the room.
Seth bit back a groan at the thought. He’d need them to create an online ordering option and a drive-up carryout window if karaoke came to the Feisty Bull.
He greeted the hostess by her first name and gestured to the bar when she scanned the dining room for a spot to put him. “I won’t be long.”
The bar was a massive rectangular island of gleaming wood, sparkling glassware, every liquor imaginable, and ornate taps featuring the popular national brands along with the local brews.
Stools lined the entire perimeter except for the small gap that allowed the bartenders to enter and exit.
Kerry was behind the bar pulling beers when Seth claimed the last vacant stool.
His cousin looked up and gave him a roguish smile.
His black hair was longer than usual, almost brushing his shoulders, and his dark eyes sparkled with familiar mischief that always spelled trouble.
Seth didn’t know what had put that devilish gleam in his cousin’s eyes, but he knew he didn’t want any part of it.
“Hey, cousin,” Kerry said.
“Don’t start with me,” Seth warned. “Not after the day I’ve had.”
Kerry released the tap and held up both hands in surrender. “Gee, Sheriff. I didn’t do anything.”
The guy to his right chuckled and took a drink of his beer. Seth wasn’t much in the mood for socializing, so he kept his attention focused on Kerry. If he had a modicum of energy left, he’d try to figure out what was making his cousin strut like a fucking rooster behind the bar.
“Isn’t someone in need of rescuing tonight?
” Seth’s snide tone only made his cousin’s grin broaden.
Who did this asshole think he was? The Grinch?
The Joker? Kerry was built like a freaking superhero with broad shoulders and ripped muscles, which he used to operate Hart’s Creek Rescue.
Natalie’s tragic death propelled several family members into a life of service.
Seth’s sister Shawna was an EMT, and several of his cousins were firefighters.
Kerry took it a step further and founded an organization that rescued the stranded, injured, and lost. Seth was beyond proud of his cousin, but that didn’t stop him from busting his chops now and then.
Kerry shrugged a massive shoulder. “Just felt like this is where I needed to be right now.” He found comfort in their aunt and uncle’s restaurant, too, and often picked up bartending shifts whenever they were short-staffed or he needed to decompress and connect in happier ways.
Since they were on the eve of his sister’s disappearance and murder, it made sense Kerry would navigate there.
“What ten-year-old did you borrow that shirt from?”
Kerry greeted the dig with laughter as he returned to filling drink orders. When he caught up, he sauntered over to stand in front of Seth with an order pad. “Do you want the usual?”
“I don’t have a usual.” He loved everything on the menu.
A black brow shot up. “You’ll have a cheesesteak with extra mushrooms and mayo and a double portion of Parmesan fries to go.
” He tilted his head to the side and studied Seth for a few seconds.
He grimaced and sucked air through his teeth like a reverse hiss.
“I can’t decide if you’re in the mood for plain cheesecake or a slice of chocolate pecan pie. ”
Seth hadn’t factored dessert into his plans, but sometimes Kerry had the right idea. “Both. I’ll save one for another day.” When his cousin’s lips curved into a cocky grin, Seth added, “And you don’t know me that well.”
Kerry snorted. “I know you better than you know yourself, just as you can say the same about me. The kitchen is swamped, so it might be a while before your order is ready. Want something to drink?”
Seth would give just about anything for a cold beer, but he settled for a Coke.
“Hitting it awfully hard,” teased the guy on his right.
Seth forced a smile on his face and turned his head, reminding himself it was a reelection year, and it wouldn’t hurt him to be cordial. “I’d prefer a cold beer, but not while it looks like I’m on duty.”
The man wore his Colorado Rockies ball cap low on his forehead, covering most of his hair and putting the upper half of his face in shadow.
The lower half sported a pretty severe case of razor burn as if he’d shaved his face in a hurry.
The hair sticking out from beneath the hat looked platinum blond or white, but it was hard to say in the light.
The televisions in the rustic dining area seemed to have the guy’s full attention, so Seth tucked his smile away.
The stranger had chuckled at the banter between cousins and remarked about his drink choice, but when Seth gave him the attention he craved, the guy averted his gaze.
Why was that? Pinpricks of unease made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, though the man had done nothing wrong.
Seth silently chastised himself for acting like a fool.
He was exhausted, stretched too thin, and looking for danger lurking in shadows, even the kind cast by a simple ball cap.
The stranger pointed to the wall of televisions. “Hey. Isn’t that you?”
Kerry stopped in front of Seth and set his soda on the bar in front of him. “Sorry, cuz.”
Sorry? Seth’s tired brain struggled to tie the conversation threads together.
He was about to look at Kerry, but the stranger finally turned and met his gaze.
Arctic blue eyes glowed from beneath the brim’s shadow.
They didn’t actually glow like fictional supernatural beings, but their contrast was so great that they appeared to light from within.
“You’re on television,” the stranger said.
Was that why Kerry apologized? What kind of gloom-and-doom hell was about to befall him?
Seth turned his head in time to catch the tail end of a “coming up on” promo for the local news affiliate.
Aunt Debbie always muted the volume on the televisions to avoid clashing with the music, but the subtitles on the bottom of the screen told Seth everything he needed to know.
The channel’s crime reporter had interviewed several of the Harts and Burkes for the segment they produced for the twenty-fifth anniversary of Natalie’s unsolved murder.
The piece would play the following evening, but not without controversy.
Most people fell into two camps: those who believed Natalie’s killer was still out there, making her case unsolved, and those who believed the cops had found Natalie’s killer but couldn’t prosecute him because he died before they could make an arrest. Publicly, Seth claimed to be in the unsolved murder camp, but privately, he was certain Ryan Ulrich had gotten away with murder.
The cops had tracked the rusty blue truck back to him based on Seth’s description, and Ryan admitted to picking Natalie up in town and driving her to the river where a bunch of his friends gathered to party.
He even confessed that they’d gotten into an argument and had gone separate ways once there.
Ryan claimed Natalie had stomped off into the woods, and he assumed she’d gotten a ride back to town with someone else when she didn’t return.
Everyone else at the gathering claimed to have eyes on Ryan during the entire time of the party and hadn’t seen where Natalie had gone.
And Seth would know since he’d memorized each statement after accessing the official file when he took office.
The original investigators had dismissed his family’s concern until Natalie’s body was found a few miles downstream from where she’d gone missing.
The department hypothesized she’d died of an accidental drowning.
They said Natalie could’ve been drinking or smoking weed like the others at the party.
She could’ve been distraught and unsteady on her feet and fallen into the river or taken an ill-fated swim.
The medical examiner had quickly disabused them of that notion.
The blunt-force trauma to her head was too severe for a slip and fall.
It showed signs of rage that turned the focus back to Ryan, who’d admitted fighting with her.
The sheriff’s department had performed a thorough investigation from that point, interviewing people from the party multiple times.
The stories never changed. Natalie had wandered off angry, but Ryan never budged from the gathering.
Seth’s immediate predecessor had taken up the cold case and had attempted to solve Natalie’s murder.
He’d assigned one of his detectives to review the case and look for any unturned stones or punch holes in any of the witness statements.
No unturned rocks. No holes. A community still divided.
The folks who believed Ryan killed Natalie had been more vocal, and the Ulrich family moved away. Ryan died of a drug overdose a few years after Natalie’s death, and Seth worried they might never find justice for his cousin. Fuck, she deserved so much better.
“That young lady was your cousin?” The stranger’s voice brought Seth back to the present.
He reached for his soda to quench his suddenly dry mouth. He set the glass back on the bar with a thunk and faced his curious barstool neighbor. “Yes.”
“Is that why you got into law enforcement?”