Separated

by Jessica Frances

  He stares at me for a long moment, and as the air thickens between us, tensions both good and bad building, I begin to wonder again why this can’t work between us. Why can’t I get past knowing he will be leaving and just enjoy the now?

  As this thought knocks around inside my head, Conner is already walking toward the front door, which he holds open for me.

  “Thanks for coming around, Rocky. I’ll let you know if anything more comes through.”

  “And if you can’t sleep, call me.”

  He nods in agreement, glancing down at his bare feet instead of looking me in the eye, so I can’t tell if he’s lying. There isn’t much more I can say to him to get him to agree, but there is one person who will keep me informed.

  I sit in my car and send a text to Love, asking her to let me know if Conner isn’t sleeping well because of the threats and to let me know when she’s finished with her interview so that I can get her fingerprints. She responds back to this with a pirate hat emoji. I have no idea what that means, but I assume it’s a positive response.

  I stare at the street that The Last Resort sits on. It’s busy, a short walk from any of the shops in town, and the only trouble I’ve seen here are from the overzealous fans who often stay here. There is a paved area for parking around the side of the building, which only has a handful of cars in there, including Conner’s.

  It would be easy to sneak over there and place the threat on his car. It’s secluded enough that no one would notice you, and yet, with the ease of placing the note, you would have to be quick to not garner any suspicion.

  What’s their motive?

  Conner might have made a couple of enemies during his short stay here, but is it enough to send him threatening letters?

  I glance down at the evidence bags and decide to make a stop at Paxton on my way back from the crime lab.

  Randy just recently moved there in preparation of starting his new job as deputy sheriff. He owes me for not putting on his permanent record what he did, which led to him resigning.

  If I find out he’s been threatening Conner, I’ll do worse than give his boss a call.

  I’ll arrest that son of a bitch and make sure those charges stick.

  Chapter Three

  After I’ve tracked down Love to get her fingerprints, as well as another lecture about leaving Conner, I log the two threats and fill in the forms to request they be run through the lab to see what they can find on them. Then I leave Little Rock to find Randy.

  Randy was my hardest-working deputy, always willing to work whenever I needed him to, and I once had a strong feeling that he could be my successor one day. He’s five years my junior, but the years never prevented us from being able to have a beer together to keep things amicable.

  I suppose I did wonder sometimes if he wanted something to happen between us. He would often make snide comments about my trips to Paxton to get laid. But I never called him out on it, never gave him any reason to think I was interested in him. I made it clear that the citizens of Midsummer were off limits to me. So, I guess me hooking up with Conner came as a huge surprise to him. It came as a surprise to me, too. But, is it enough for Randy to send him threatening mail?

  I check my watch and see that I’m right on time. Then, glancing around the large diner, I find Randy seated in a corner booth. He doesn’t look nervous. In fact, he smile when he notices me.

  “Hey, Rocky,” he greets, still looking at ease. There is nothing that would suggest he feels guilty for anything he’s done recently.

  “Randy.” I nod, shaking his hand when he offers it. “Thank you for helping out last week with River.” I say this when I really want to punch him for the way he told me that Conner had River. He purposely made it sound as sinister as possible.

  “It’s no problem. Glad I could help.”

  I’ve never noticed how slick his smile looks; how much it looks like a predator’s.

  “So, what can I help you with?”

  I note he doesn’t ask me about River, doesn’t even give a shit. In fact, over the many years we worked together, he’s never shown any interest in her. In the few short weeks I’ve known Conner, he’s given her more attention and shown her more care than Randy has in years.

  “Conner has received some threats. I wondered if you knew anything about that.”

  Randy’s smug smile immediately drops. “You’re talking to me because you want to ask me about threats to Sherwood?” His easy tone from before has shifted to something hard and flat.

  “Yes. It’s clear you have a dislike for him, so I would like to clear you, if possible.”

  “You want to clear me because you have plans for me now that I live in Paxton and not Midsummer? Or you want to clear me because you’re just working a job right now?”

  What the hell is he talking about?

  I eye him like he might be unwell. “Randy, someone is sending threatening mail to Conner. Making death threats is no joking matter. When I find who has done this, I fully intend to arrest the asshole. Now, tell me you aren’t stupid enough to do this.”

  Randy glares at me, his entire body locked in anger. “I would never do such a thing. The fact that you’re even questioning me right now is fucking outrageous, Rocky.”

  “Can you really blame me? You fucked up with the Alder case. You left out crucial information and for what? You weren’t the one in the closet.”

  Randy pushes back in his seat, like he’s trying to put more distance between us. “Did you ask me to meet you here just to fucking lecture me?”

  “No. I’m asking you to give me a reason to clear you. You fucked up, and I don’t even get why, which is why I can’t rule you out from being this stupid as to send Conner death threats.”

  Randy shifts his gaze so he has his eyes on his lap, now fidgeting with his fingers. “King and I had been messing around for a couple of years. He didn’t want anyone to know, and I never cared about him that much. I needed relief, and he wanted the same.” He gives a small shrug. “In the last couple months, we had barely seen each other. I realize now he was engaged and likely trying to drown that part of himself.”

  “I didn’t ask for your life story, Randy.”

  Randy narrows his eyes then shoots them up to meet mine. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to think differently about me. You’re so sure of yourself. You told everyone you were bisexual like you were talking about end of year statistics. And it was all so fucking easy, because no one wanted to go against you. They just accepted it like it was fact and that was that. But when I came out to my family? My dad beat me, and my mom said I was just confused. When I came out to my friends, I came out after one of our other friends, so they thought I was just joining some new trend. No one took me seriously. But they took my job seriously. I wasn’t proud to go back to fooling around in secret. But the only person I’ve been interested in doesn’t even see me.”

  I shake my head, still not hearing a fucking reason, even if a small amount of sympathy does slip through. “So, you’re saying you didn’t mention your connection to King, or seeing him that night, because you wanted people to take you seriously?”

  “Not people, Rocky! I wanted you to take me seriously. I didn’t want you to know what I had stooped to. I didn’t want you to think less of me, because King was clearly messed up that night. I mean, the asshole jumped out of a moving car! And I let him go. I didn’t go after him. I didn’t demand he speak to me. I didn’t push, and I should have. If I had taken him home with me that night, then he might still be alive. If he had opened up to me, I would have helped him. If our roles had been reversed, you would have chased after him and made sure he made it home safe.”

  I sit back, finally understanding a little more of what he was thinking, even if it still doesn’t make what he did okay.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I say, aware that explanation, especially to me, wasn’t easy to give.

  He nods, but I can tell he’s overcome with emotion.


  I never knew about his parents, or his friends. I didn’t have an easy time coming out like he seems to think, but we all have our pasts, and we’re all hiding scars others can’t see.

  “So, you’re not hassling Conner, right?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Rocky! No! Why would I even need to threaten him; he’s not staying in Midsummer anyway.”

  His words immediately send my heart thumping. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s a wanderer or whatever. He comes from a city, and he’ll always be a city boy. I get that he’s having fun, and he’s made some friends, plus whatever you guys are, but it won’t stick.”

  His words hit a little too close to home.

  “Love seems to think he’s staying.”

  “Love is a dreamer. She’s trying to fill the hole Rian left behind when she went off gallivanting the world. Conner is gonna break her heart, too. At least you have the sense to keep that shit casual.”

  My throat dries as I consider how hard it is to remember this.

  I am supposed to keep things simple. The rest of my life is what’s complicated, and I made a promise to myself to never allow my love life to ever be a problem. One ex-wife and one broken-hearted kid is about all I can handle. That plate is full.

  “Can you tell me where you were yesterday?”

  “I spent the day moving into my new home. I don’t suppose you want to see it?”

  “Why would I want to see it?” I ask incredulously. “You have any friends or family who helped you move and can verify where you were?”

  He reddens. I’m not sure why until he answers, “No, I was alone.”

  I inwardly wince that he had no one to help. I noticed that Randy wasn’t overly friendly with people in Midsummer, but I had no idea he had no one close.

  “Okay, well, thanks for your time.” I begin to slide out of the booth.

  “We didn’t even get a drink! You’re leaving already?”

  “I have work to do. Good luck with your new job here in Paxton.” I shake his hand again, my mind already shifting to where to go next.

  I could check out who King Alder was close to. Maybe people aren’t happy that Alder is going away for murder, not that this is anyone’s fault but his own. But, given Love and Conner went against my wishes and took to investigating on their own, maybe that has some of them revved up.

  Then, why only Conner and not Love? Because she’s a local she gets a free pass?

  I shake my head, already dismissing that.

  Then my mind shifts to the one person I really fucking hate to think about.

  Henry fucking Prince.

  He has a lot of crazy fans. A couple times over the years, we’ve had to arrest some of them for trying to break into Angus Thom’s property to get to Prince. We usually receive a copy of the crazier fan mail from Thom’s head of security so we are aware and up-to-date on what’s going on.

  Maybe a fan has caught wind of Conner and Prince?

  As far as I know, nothing has happened, but Conner did put that photo up. It happened after he got the first death threat, but his videos had made mention of Prince, not to mention the interview he put up of him. Maybe the threat escalated yesterday because the person saw the photo from Friday and was enraged? They figured out who his secret admirer is?

  I sort of like this idea, since I could recommend limiting contact with Prince until we’ve gotten this under control. However, it also means that the person is probably not local, which makes things a lot fucking harder.

  I growl as I get in my car, only now noticing Randy looking pissed as he stares disbelievingly at me from inside the diner.

  I have no idea what his problem is. I get being asked those questions wouldn’t be the most comfortable, but he also knows I’m just doing my job.

  I start my car, and my radio immediately goes off. Abby, my deputy, tells me there is another fight occurring between Mr. Pine and Mr. Redford.

  I groan, not understanding why the two men can’t just give it a rest. They were fighting weekly when my dad was sheriff, and they haven’t let up even after all these years. I mean, just move the hell away already. But they’re both too stubborn. Not even their kids getting married to one another got them to lighten up toward each other.

  “On it,” I grumble back to her, pulling into traffic and heading back to Midsummer.

  Halfway back, I get a call I don’t expect. In fact, I’m surprised the phone number is still active. And I’m also surprised I never deleted it.

  But the name pops up, and I clench my teeth in an effort to not yell out any expletives like I want to.

  I haven’t spoken to my brother in years, and I don’t expect to change that anytime soon. So, I send the call to voicemail and make a mental note to block the number when I’m not driving.

  I don’t know why Reed is calling now, except to inform me that he’s been released, and I don’t care. It’s just another thing I don’t need on my overflowing plate.

  Chapter Four

  When Friday comes, I’m no closer to figuring out who sent the threats to Conner. I’ve spoken to anyone who has had any contact with him, asked for any insights that anyone can give, but everyone just speaks of their love for him. He’s so warm and funny that the town seems to have fallen in love with him.

  Except for the person sending these threats.

  As I suspected, there is zero evidence to be found on the letters and no DNA on the envelope that was sent through the post. All I know is the stamp places it as mailed from Midsummer. So, now I’m completely at a loss over what to do. Without more evidence or any sort of lead, I’m powerless.

  Maybe with someone else, I would have been willing to put this on the backburner. Maybe I would have been able to focus on other things and prioritize better. But I can’t, because this is Conner, and it’s completely unacceptable that I’ve been unable to keep my promise to find out who sent them to him.

  Conner hasn’t come to me again. I hoped I would get a call from him, but I haven’t even seen him around town. From the videos that he’s still posting and the updates he’s placing on his online accounts, I do know he’s still moving around town and doing his thing. He even did a small interview with Love, which I found interesting, if not enlightening. I never knew she was demisexual. Had to look the term up.

  My phone beeps, and I see a message from one of the guys I sometimes sleep with in Paxton. I clench my teeth in annoyance as I clear away the message without bothering to read it.

  It’s surprising to realize just how long it has actually been since I went to Paxton to get any kind of sexual relief. I sometimes went weeks without contacting one of my casual arrangements, but since I met Conner at the Midsummer Bar and Grill, their existence has completely left my mind.

  It made me realize that I have no interest in meeting up with anyone else, yet the only person I’m currently interested in has no interest in sleeping with me. There is probably some karmic justice going on there, or at least some irony that the man who can’t have a relationship only wants a man who refuses anything less than a relationship.

  I let my eyes fall to my groin, wondering if my dick might be broken. I only want something casual, so why is my dick all of a sudden only interested in one man? A man who won’t compromise and has left us at a standstill.

  Actually, it’s left me blue-balled and him standing across the street from me.

  My breath catches as I take Conner in, unexpectedly watching him move out of a dark sedan.

  He turns, giving me a better angle to see him, watching his huge smile directed back into the vehicle, to the person still inside.

  I quickly notice that his eyes seem brighter, the fatigue that haunted them before gone. His pallor is much healthier, too, and he looks damn good in fitted jeans, boots, and a shirt that clings to his entire torso.

  Fuck. I want to be as close to him as those clothes. I want to wrap myself around him and fuck us both into sweet oblivion.

  And then Henry fuckin
g Prince steps out of the car.

  Fuck!

  I stand stock-still, watching them both as they move into the restaurant to the left of them, both standing close to each other and looking far more comfortable than I’m comfortable with.

  I bitterly want to rant that Conner didn’t take long to move on, but I know that’s an asshole remark to make when I basically drove him to Prince. Or at least drove him away where Prince was obviously only too happy to pick him up.

  I rub my chest, unable to understand the ache emanating from there.

  I’ve had people sniffing around me, looking for more than I was willing to offer for years. So, why has Conner gotten under my skin?

  I know he’s hot, he’s sweet, and he’s kind. He cares about River, and I enjoy his outlook on life. I wouldn’t have binge-watched his videos several times now if I didn’t. His confidence is attractive and well-deserved. He simultaneously puts me at ease and makes me hard as hell when I’m with him. He’s many of the things that I would look for in a partner, but he’s also a lot of things I wouldn’t.

  He’s not stable or reliable, not when he’s supposed to be traveling and seeing all of America. He doesn’t seem to do routine, it’s doubtful he would be willing to settle here, and he’s argumentative and stubborn.

  My infatuation with him will indubitably fade, but it’s concerning that it hasn’t dimmed in the weeks that I have known him. It also worries me that I have already had him.

  I’m rarely interested in someone once we’ve fucked. I only tolerate my casual arrangements in Paxton because it’s mutually beneficial and uncomplicated.

  Conner is completely complicated.

  I sigh once Conner and Prince are out of view. A large, bulky man, who is likely a bodyguard, follows behind them, while the man driving moves the illegally parked car somewhere else.

  At busier and more public times, I’ve seen Prince with as many as three guards. Tonight, though, he only has the one. It feels inadequate to ensure Conner’s safety when he’s under threat, but I can’t really talk. I’ve been completely impotent when it comes to this case.