Slow Burn (Rabun County Book 1)

by Lisa Clark O'Neill

  “Adeline,” he murmured, finding it hard not to lean in. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m not that sore.”

  “Once your pills wear all the way off, you will be. I’m supposed to be monitoring you for signs of whiplash, not…”

  “Banging me into the headboard?”

  His lips rolled in, but he couldn’t stop the laugh. “You are a piece of work, you know that?”

  “But you still want to bang me.”

  “Without a doubt.” He reached up to stroke an errant piece of hair out of her face. “Would you stay here with me for a little while? I don’t like the thought of you being out by the lake with no transportation.”

  She sighed, but nodded. “I need to get some things, though. Hopefully it won’t take too long for the insurance company to get me a loaner.”

  The yawn seemed to catch her by surprise, but Sutton figured she was going to be crashing sooner rather than later.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and take my bed.”

  Some of her boldness seemed to leave her. “I hate to ask this under the circumstances, but… would it be possible for you to sleep with me? Only sleep. I know that’s not a fair question. But one of the side effects of the muscle relaxer is apparently bad dreams, and… I tend to get those even without pharmaceutical enhancement.”

  Touched by her vulnerability – and the strength she’d shown in dealing with the challenges she’d been dealt – Sutton felt everything inside him soften.

  “I’d love to.”

  He stood, and when she winced as she tried to do the same, he leaned over and picked her up.

  “This is sexier than the time I had to crawl all over your person to get out of that hole. Now all we need is a grand staircase carpeted in red and an unfortunate fade to black.”

  “Frankly Scarlett, I understood that reference.”

  She laughed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m not in love with Ashley Wilkes. In case you were worried.”

  “You’ll never know my relief.”

  Thankful that he’d put clean sheets on the bed earlier that morning, in anticipation of spending the night, he lowered her with care.

  “Sutton?” she murmured, after he’d climbed in on the other side.

  He turned over to face her.

  “Thank you.”

  She didn’t specify for what, but somehow, he didn’t need her to. Lifting the hand of her good arm, he kissed the back. “You’re welcome. Now get some rest.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ETHAN opened the door of the Black Walnut Inn, wincing at the blast of heat from the fireplace in the lobby. Everyone else was complaining about the frigid temperatures, but he’d been cooped up in his office all afternoon and the dry heat had made his sinuses feel like someone scrubbed them with sandpaper. He suspected he was getting a cold, and would have liked nothing better than to go home and take a hot shower before climbing into bed. But he had too much to do, not the least of which was to catch Charlotte Parks before she headed back to Atlanta. The weather had detained both her and Julie Harlowe’s friends, although the latter had left yesterday. Charlotte stayed an extra day, presumably to tie up any loose ends from the accident. Unfortunately for both her and him, there was a significant loose end.

  It was too early yet for happy hour, but there were a couple of people in the lobby, sitting by the fire. He didn’t recognize them from the interviews the other day, and so assumed they were new arrivals. They looked happy, enjoying both the fire and each other, in contrast to the atmosphere of shock and misery that had permeated the place over the weekend. But life went on. Irreparably altered sometimes, but moving forward nonetheless.

  He was debating between ringing the bell on the desk and just heading back to the office to see if Charlotte was there when the door opened behind him.

  The woman in question came through it, followed by Beckett Caldwell.

  “Oh.” By her expression, Ethan could tell that Charlotte wasn’t overjoyed by his unexpected appearance, but she plastered on a social smile, nonetheless. “Sheriff McCloud. How nice to see you again.”

  “Ms. Parks.” He nodded, and then transferred his gaze to Caldwell. “Beckett.”

  Beckett’s return stare was smooth and cool, the facial equivalent of a frosty martini. “Ethan.”

  It was a subtle snub, the casual address that spoke of familiarity as opposed to respect for his position. Ethan wanted to smile. He knew that the other man had thrown money behind the opposing candidate in the election that elevated him to sheriff, and it had to chap his ass that the people of Rabun County hadn’t bowed to his whim. Ethan hadn’t even been around when all the shit had gone down between Beckett and Sutton, as he’d been away at college. But the bad blood between their families hadn’t dissipated all that much over the years. Partly because the conflict hadn’t been resolved to either party’s satisfaction. Because both boys were at fault – Sutton in throwing the first punch in order to defend his girlfriend, and Beckett in escalating the violence in order to defend himself – neither one of them had been held legally accountable. Beckett’s father had the power of wealth, but the senior McCloud had been the highest law enforcement officer in the county, and well-respected to boot.

  It was a standoff. And even though Beckett’s father had passed, and Ethan’s retired, the ill will lingered. And that animosity had been stirred up again by Sutton’s return to Clayton.

  Charlotte, who wasn’t stupid, turned her smile up another notch. “Did you need to speak with me?”

  “If you have a few minutes, yes.”

  “Well then.” She shot a glance at the couple by the fire, who’d gone quiet as their interest in the scene unfolding before them grew. “Why don’t we head to the office? Um, Beckett, thank you so much for lunch. Next time you’re in Buckhead, it’ll be my treat.”

  “It was my pleasure.” When Charlotte stepped forward to embrace him, the man’s expression softened so that he looked more human. “If you need anything – anything at all – you just give me a call.”

  “I will,” she said, stepping back, and Ethan saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “Anything. I mean it.” He turned his attention to Ethan. “Sheriff. Take it easy on her.”

  “Beckett.” She shot an anxious look at Ethan. “I’m fine.”

  But Beckett was still holding Ethan’s gaze.

  “Will do.”

  Beckett hesitated, and then nodded. “Anything,” he repeated to Charlotte before taking his leave.

  “Um, if you’ll follow me?” she said to Ethan.

  Ethan did, nodding at the eavesdroppers curled into the deep leather chairs as he passed by them.

  “Actually, would you mind if we talked in the dining room?” she said as they rounded the corner. “It’s empty now. The office is small, and I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic.” She fanned a hand in front of her face in an attempt to regain control of her emotions. “I apologize. I keep thinking I’m fine, and then it hits me.”

  Because he sensed the woman was genuine, Ethan’s tone was gentle. “Of course. Whatever works for you.”

  “Thank you. There’s coffee, tea on that side cart, so please help yourself.”

  “I’m fine, but I do appreciate the hospitality.”

  She smiled. “We try.” The smile slipped from her face as she slid into a booth at the far end of the room, closest to the patio. “This is hard,” she admitted. “I feel like it’s my fault, somehow, because I suggested to Julie that they come here. The railing meets all the building codes.” She blinked in rapid succession, but couldn’t keep a lone tear from escaping. “It should have been safe for her to be out there.”

  “Just because the railing is legally safe, that can’t stop people from engaging in unsafe behavior.”

  “You’re right, of course. But I… well, it feels like I’m blaming her to say that. And I have blamed her. I keep going back and forth from guilt to anger to just… sadness.”
<
br />   “And all of those are valid reactions in this type of circumstance.”

  She let out a breath. “Thank you. I really do appreciate how kind you, and the other people from your office, have been. It’s made a horrible situation a little easier.”

  “I’m happy to hear it. I wanted to tell you that I have the preliminary autopsy report. And while I can’t go into any specific details, I will say that Ms. Harlowe’s injuries were consistent with an accidental fall. I know you’d expressed concern that there’d be a question of whether she’d jumped intentionally?”

  “Julie is – was… I’m sorry.”

  “Take your time,” Ethan said when she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

  “Julie was an incredibly vibrant person. Usually the center of attention, the go-to girl to get the party started. The one everyone wanted to be around. But only a handful of her closest friends knew that she struggled with depression. And recently she’d been relying too much on alcohol, on attention from the wrong sort of men, to try to fill up that emptiness inside. I’m sorry. I know she had a minor flirtation with your brother. I don’t mean to imply something negative about him.”

  “If she… let’s say struck out with a particular man. Would she have moved on quickly to another one?”

  “I… guess so? I mean sure, she didn’t sit around and pine over specific guys or anything.” Her brow furrowed. “Is there a reason that you’re asking?”

  “I was wondering if she may have met another man here that night, or even around town earlier in the day, and might have tried to hook up with him at some point.”

  Charlotte, whom he’d already determined wasn’t stupid, clasped her hands together on the table and leaned forward. “Are you implying that someone – an unknown man, presumably – may have been with her when she fell?”

  “I’m assuming, since Captain Tully hasn’t heard from you, that you haven’t been able to locate Ms. Harlowe’s phone?”

  “I… no,” she said. “But that doesn’t really answer my question. Unless you think she was with someone, and they, what, took it?”

  “At this point,” Ethan said. “That would be nothing but speculation.” He waited a beat. “However, it’s a missing piece of the puzzle, and I’m not inclined to stamp closed on a case until I have as complete a picture as possible.”

  Charlotte leaned back, sliding her fingers into her hair and pressing them against her temples. “I had the housekeeping staff turn the rooms the women stayed in upside down. Julie’s charger was there, but her phone wasn’t. Hannah went through her suitcase. We’ve looked all over the grounds, inside and out, and I know your deputies did as well.”

  “What about someone on your staff?”

  “You mean to suggest that one of them took it? I… hate to think so. But goodness, how would I know? Maybe she… sat it down outside – like the park – and someone passing by picked it up?”

  “Maybe,” Ethan said.

  “That didn’t sound convincing.”

  “Look, Ms. Parks. I’m not trying to put ideas in your head. And right now, my options are limited, because Ms. Harlowe isn’t here to file a report about her missing phone, which would give us some legal leeway to attempt to track it, and I have no real evidentiary cause to treat her death as suspicious.”

  “Except for the missing phone.”

  “As I said, it’s the final puzzle piece.”

  “So, what more do you need from me? I don’t know if she met or gave her number to anyone else while she was here. The women she was with probably would. Do you want me to ask them or –”

  “We’ll follow up.”

  “Of course.” She nodded. “You have their contact information. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just so… scattered. I feel like I can’t think.”

  “It’s a normal reaction to this sort of shock.”

  She released a deep breath. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind. I just wish I could go back and say or do… something to have prevented this. I was just telling Beckett how the two of them should have gone ahead and gotten together when I thought they were going to, and then both of them might have been happy now.”

  Ethan kept his expression neutral. “Beckett…?”

  “Caldwell,” Charlotte said, looking confused. “You just greeted him by name?”

  “Right,” Ethan said, playing dumb. “I wasn’t aware that he knew the victim.”

  “Almost as long as I have – had. It’s going to take me a while to get used to speaking about her in the past tense. Anyway, you know that Julie and I went to school together.”

  “Yes.”

  “Beckett was a couple of grades behind me, and he came up to Boston on one of his college visits senior year in high school. He was looking at BU because his dad was an alum, and I was at Emerson, but we got together while he was in town. He and Julie hit it off. I was hoping they’d end up dating, but… well, it didn’t work out that way.”

  Because Beckett had married Shannon.

  “Was he aware that Ms. Harlowe was going to be in Clayton over the weekend?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Do you know if they were in contact while she was here?”

  “I can only assume they would have been. He arranged for their spa day at… wait.” Leaning back against the cushioned booth, she raised her hands. “I don’t think I should say anything else. You need to talk to Beckett himself.”

  “Is there a reason you don’t want to talk about Mister Caldwell?”

  The sheen of tears had disappeared from her eyes, replaced by cold clarity. “I’m not a rube, Sheriff McCloud.”

  So, he could only assume that she was familiar with the family history.

  “Believe me, I wasn’t under the impression that you were.”

  Her cell phone chimed, and she glanced at the screen before turning it face down. “I’m sorry, but I have to deal with this. If there’s anything else you need, Sheriff McCloud, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Will do,” Ethan said, mentally weighing the probability that the text was from Beckett. In his estimation, pretty high. “You have a safe trip home, now.”

  She thanked him before standing, ensuring that Ethan did the same. He smiled, because he wasn’t stupid, either. If he called again, he imagined he’d be directed to her attorney.

  Ethan made his way out, noting that the curious couple were no longer seated by the fire. It snapped and crackled for the entertainment of the empty room.

  Empty, except for Ethan’s growing suspicion.

  It was time he had a face to face with Beckett Caldwell.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE knock on the door startled Adeline, and she looked up from her laptop. Sutton didn’t have a kitchen table, so she was sitting at the counter, which unfortunately faced away from the door. The worst of the soreness had faded, but turning her head that far was out of the question. She swiveled the stool around, wondering if he’d somehow locked himself out of the apartment before remembering that she was expecting a delivery. Sutton was meeting with his new office manager this afternoon, and Adeline had taken the opportunity to order a whole apple custard pie from Clancy’s, as a small gesture of appreciation. He’d been nothing short of a prince over the past couple of days, while she’d been pretty much useless. He’d bought her a heating pad and ice packs, new toiletries and a couple of books to read, since she was too stiff to sit at her laptop for long. Luckily, she’d had a backup pair of glasses in her computer bag. And he’d continued to sleep with her, for closeness and comfort, while refusing to take their physical relationship further until she was feeling better. Honestly, a pie was the very least that she could do.

  Dorinda Clancy even offered to have it delivered, after realizing whom it was for, and saved Adeline a walk in the cold. She was beginning to understand why the older woman was her fiercest competition for Sutton’s affection.

  Climbing down from the stool with all the grace of a dru
nken panda, Adeline grabbed some cash from her purse before hobbling toward the door. It reminded her she needed to keep stretching throughout the day, or else her muscles were going to stiffen up again. She was determined to break through the caution tape Sutton insisted on keeping in place around their physical intimacy, but she couldn’t exactly convince him she was fine if she moved like Quasimodo.

  Getting the expected shock from the doorknob, she shook out her hand, and wondered if Dorinda had sent her grandson. She hoped so. She’d developed quite a rapport with him, and found his enthusiasm infectious.

  But when she pulled open the door, the energy was less than positive.

  “Hi,” she said, watching Sutton’s ex-girlfriend’s smile slide from her flawlessly lipsticked mouth. “Um, Shari, wasn’t it?”

  “Shannon.”

  “Right.” Adeline managed not to roll her eyes. Shannon and Sutton. How could she have forgotten? “I’m sorry. I’m terrible with remembering names.”

  The other woman’s gaze flicked downward, the corners of her mouth sinking further, and Adeline glanced down to recall that she’d borrowed one of Sutton’s University of Florida sweatshirts. She hadn’t yet been able to retrieve her own clothes, so she’d been wearing some of his.

  She didn’t need to have heightened senses to feel the malice emanating from the hallway. Obviously, Shannon had expected to find Sutton at home, eagerly awaiting his pie, and wasn’t pleased by the interloper.

  “So,” she attempted to infuse some cheeriness in her voice, since the vibe had turned sepulchral. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing this over. Um…” Trying not to cringe, she passed her the tip in exchange for the boxed pie. “Ah, wow. It’s heavy,” she said, striving to balance it on one hand. The exchange was awkward, but at least she’d already discharged the static charge she’d built up, so she didn’t shock Shannon when their hands touched.

  “I had a car accident,” she mentioned by way of explanation. “And hurt my arm.”

  “I thought you fell through a floor while snooping around by the McCloud’s place.”