Chapter 36
thirty-six
. . .
SUTTON
ASPEN
Hey so Crew told me about what happened at work. I am SO sorry. If you’re going crazy in that house, Reagan and I spend a lot of time at the ranch with Birdie, and you’re welcome to come hang out whenever you want.
Aspen’s invitation that afternoon could not have come at a better time, because I was, in fact, going insane sitting in Lane’s house alone all day.
Boots was great, and my Kindle kept me momentarily distracted, but there was nothing I could imagine at that moment that was better than spending time with people who could actually talk back.
ME
On my way.
ASPEN
see you soon!
All the usual access roads to the ranch from Lane’s house were closed due to snow, but even with having to go all the way around through town, I still arrived there less than twenty minutes later. When I walked inside, I was immediately enveloped in the woodstove’s smokey warmth and the scent of…
“Is that apple pie I smell?” I called as I headed toward the kitchen.
Birdie popped up from behind the counter and grinned. “Sure is. Figured I’d treat my girls.”
My girls. Holy hell, I loved the sound of that. Not only that Birdie, one of the strongest, kindest, more impressive women I’d ever met, claimed me as one of her own, but the fact that Aspen and Reagan did as well.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“Not at the moment,” she said as she came around the counter and drew me into a hug. We were roughly the same height, and I’d never understood how this average-sized woman gave birth to the behemoth men she called her sons. Hell, even Aria was tall.
When she released me, Birdie indicated the family dining room, the less formal gathering space where they had their meals unless it was a special occasion. “Aspen and Reagan are in there.”
Taking that as my cue to leave, I moved past her and into the room, where Aspen and Reagan sat in the center of the long wooden table, one on either side.
“Hey!” Reagan grinned when I appeared, then patted the bench at her side. Before I’d fully sat, a healthy pour of red wine was pushed in front of me. Seeing no problem with imbibing a bit, I lifted the glass and took a sip.
“Do you guys do this a lot?” I asked, referencing both hanging out in the Lawless family dining room and drinking wine at three p.m.
“Often enough,” Aspen admitted. “We’re both self-employed, which comes with a certain amount of free time and flexibility.”
“How is everything going for you both?”
“Slow,” Reagan admitted. “But we knew it would happen. Not many people are interested in braving the frigid temps and cold to have their photos taken, and there certainly aren’t any weddings happening this time of year.”
“Not yet!” Birdie quipped from the kitchen, and I angled toward Reagan, raising a brow.
“We’re working on getting the barn set up as an event space. Aspen and Crew’s wedding gave Birdie the idea, and I offered to help. We figure we can offer packages that include ceremony and reception sites, tables, chairs, catering, decorating, and photography. The whole nine yards.”
“I think that’s an amazing idea!”
“Me too,” Aspen agreed. “It’s nice that something good could come out of that truly horrific time in our lives.”
I gave into a shiver at the reminder of what had happened that weekend last summer—at the reminder of Lane getting shot.
But I wasn’t the only one bearing scars from that weekend.
“How’s your sister doing, anyway?” I asked Reagan.
“She’s great! Living with her boyfriend in New York now.”
“That’s amazing,” I breathed, meaning it. Seeing both Reagan and Lainey getting their happy endings after the hell they’d gone through last year was wonderful and gave me hope for my own future.
“And what about you?” Aspen asked. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
Aspen snorted. “Don’t lie to us.”
I groaned. “Okay, I’m not fine.”
In fact, I was so far from fine we didn’t even exist in the same hemisphere.
“House arrest that bad?” Aspen teased.
“Don’t joke about that! It could actually happen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. We all know you haven’t been breaking into houses and trashing them, and we all know Lane is going to do everything he can to clear your name. You’ll be arrested and convicted of a crime when fucking pigs fly.”
Of course, she had a point, and I chuckled, but sobered quickly. “I just wish I could do more for myself. I wish we knew who the fuck was behind everything.”
“Everything?” Reagan asked.
Obviously, they’d been aware of the break-in since the night it happened—those Lawless brothers gossiped amongst themselves worse than little old ladies at Sunday knitting club—but not the extent of the damage, or how personal the destruction had seemed.
I filled them in on that and the creepy lingerie delivery.
Reagan rubbed her arms. “God, my skin is crawling just thinking about that.”
“I’m glad you get it. It seems silly, but after learning Lane hadn’t been the one to send it, that I’d worn this thing that someone had sent me as a ruse, I felt…
violated. I’ve worked really hard these years, and even more so these last few months with Lane, to heal from that, and I felt like I’d been punched backward a few steps. ”
“Understandable,” Reagan said sympathetically, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze.
“And I swear there’s been someone…stalking me when I go out on calls. You know how your scalp prickles when someone is watching you?”
Both women nodded, and Aspen asked, “Have you talked to Lane about it?”
“No,” I admitted. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s just…a feeling.”
“Women’s intuition is a powerful thing,” Reagan pointed out. “Listen to your gut.”
“Well, it’s not an issue now since I’m not allowed to go to work.”
“I have to ask,” Aspen started. “Do you or Lane think Addie could be behind this?”
“I don’t know about Lane, but I’ve definitely considered it. She made it pretty clear at the tailgate that she thought I was standing in her way.”
Aspen’s dark brows rose toward her hairline. “She said that?”
I nodded. “Actually, her exact words were, ‘Stay away from him, Sutton. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.’”
“Holy shit,” Reagan breathed. “Ballsy.”
“Crazy is more like it,” Aspen supplied. “And fucking delusional. Have you told Lane about that?”
“Nope.”
“And why the hell not?”
I sighed, sagging against the table. “There was obviously something between them, you know? And I don’t want to bring her into our relationship.
Not when things are so new, and especially not when we’ve already ruined everything once before.
Plus—” I cut myself off and shook my head. No, I wasn’t about to admit that.
Unfortunately, I was sitting across from a woman who was too damn perceptive for her own good. “You’re scared,” Aspen said.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I can’t really explain it. I know he loves me, and I know we’re in this for the long haul, but…
I guess I’m afraid of his reaction if I bring it up?
Like he won’t believe me or take me seriously.
It would feel too much like he was taking her side, and I couldn’t bear it if that were the case.
It would just confirm all of my worst fears that he could be taken from me. That I could lose him again.”
“Well lucky for you,” Aspen started, “I took matters into my own hands and started digging.”
I smacked myself in the face, accidentally hard enough to make my forehead sting. “Why didn’t I think to ask you before?”
She reached out and patted my hand. “Because you’re a stubborn woman who never wants to ask for help or feel like you’re burdening anyone.” She shared a look with Reagan. “And I know this because we’re the same way.”
“I hate you for being able to read me so easily,” I said, though I was smiling.
Aspen grinned in response, then got up from the table, telling us she’d be right back. A minute later, she returned from outside with a file folder in her hands. Placing it on the table between us, she placed her palm atop it.
“I started building this dossier on her after Lane got shot,” she admitted. “When I first met her at the wedding, something about her just didn’t sit right with me.”
That admission felt validating. I was glad I wasn’t the only one that got seriously bad vibes from the woman.
“How much do you know about the first case she and Lane worked together?” she asked me. “The one where they met.”
“Nothing. I’ve honestly never even thought about it.”
“I figured. Okay, so here’s the deal. About ten years ago, an FBI agent was killed by a murder suspect when the bureau cornered him to arrest him. The perp got away and holed up in a cabin somewhere here in Owyhee County.”
Lightbulbs illuminated in my brain. “Wait, I do remember that! I hadn’t been on shift the day they located the guy, but I heard about it for weeks after from the paramedics who had been on site.”
“Lane wasn’t sheriff yet,” Aspen continued. “But he was part of the team from Dusk Valley that worked closely with the FBI unit to locate that guy and bring him in.”
“And Addie was part of that unit?” Reagan guessed.
Aspen nodded. “Not only that, but the dead agent? He was her husband.”
Reagan and I both inhaled sharply, and my hand flew to my chest, my heart throbbing with sympathy pain.
“My god,” Reagan breathed. “That’s fucking horrible.”
As someone who had witnessed and worked on gunshot wounds before, and who had nearly lost the love of her life to one…she had no idea how horrible.
Aspen nodded solemnly. “When they finally caught up to the guy, there was a shootout. Addie caught a stray.”
Fucking hell. Her husband dying by a bullet and then taking one herself? I felt a little bad for the woman.
“How do you know all of this?” I asked.
“Newspapers mostly. But also Trey.”
“What?” Reagan and I blurted in unison, and I added, “You and Trey don’t even like each other.”
It wasn’t a secret in the family that Trey had once made a pass at Aspen, when she’d first arrived in town, before she and Crew had finally acted on their feelings for each other.
According to Lane, Crew had long since forgiven him—of course; the brothers would kill for each other, and Crew got his girl in the end—but Aspen remained… standoffish with Trey.
Aspen rolled those cinnamon eyes. “I don’t hate him. He annoys me.” I chuckled, and she spared me a glance. “Lane too.”
“What did he ever do to you?”
“You mean besides trying to drive me out of town when I wanted to keep looking for the Prom Night Arsonist?”
Reagan tapped her lips thoughtfully, and I grinned, knowing exactly the direction her mind had taken, because mine had gone there too.
“But didn’t you just end up staying with Crew? From where I’m standing, it sounds like Lane did you a favor.”
“That,” I agreed, pointing at Reagan.
A heavy sigh left Aspen’s nostrils, and she flipped us both off before pressing on.
“Anyway, yes, Trey and I have been working on this together because he also caught a bad vibe off Addie last summer.”
“I think I’m missing the part about where this has anything to do with Lane.”
“If Trey remembers that time correctly, Lane visited and checked on her while she was recovering. They obviously became pretty good friends from the sound of it, and she became someone whose expertise he deferred to on cases fairly often. The brothers have no idea if anything physical happened between them, but Trey and I are in agreement that Addie has been secretly in love with Lane for years.”
“Why hasn’t she acted on it then?” Reagan asked.
“She feared rejection,” I supplied. I’d spent a lot of time in therapy over the years and had developed more than a passing interest in psychology and the inner workings of the human brain. “After losing her husband, she was terrified to put herself out there again.”
“Bingo. Then the dumbass had to go and invite her to the wedding to make you jealous.” She leveled a finger at me.
“That had nothing to do with me,” I protested, and my friends snorted.
“Please,” Reagan said with a light laugh. “Even as a relative newcomer to this family, I knew it had everything to do with you.”
I opened my mouth to protest further, but I closed it again.
Honestly, I’d never stopped to consider that before.
I’d spent over a decade and a half assuming the door between me and Lane was welded shut and buried deep beneath the ground in some far-flung locale.
The idea that he’d been using her to get a reaction out of me was kind of hot.
It also elicited another surge of sympathy for Addie. She didn’t deserve that, even if she was a psycho.
“Then Lane got shot,” Aspen continued. “And Trey and I think that was a trigger—pun intended,” she smirked, “for Addie. Especially when, in the aftermath, her worst fear of Lane rejecting her came true.”
“And now you think she’s coming after me in some sort of misguided attempt to get him back?”
Aspen nodded. “We think she just wants to get you out of the way so she has a clear path back to Lane.”
“That’s insane,” I said, though weakly. In truth, it made a lot of sense.
People had certainly done crazier things in the name of love.
My man was proof.
“Okay,” I said, leaning toward Aspen. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”