by Jill Sanders
There were two ornamented wood hutches built into the wall opposite the stoves where they kept all their china and appliances. In between, them was the entry to a large walk-in pantry.
A new doublewide stainless-steel refrigerator and a smaller wine fridge sat on the end wall, with one of her favorite features of the manor, a dumbwaiter.
A small sitting area was right next to a glass door that led out to a small deck and what would become her herb garden, come spring.
They hadn’t picked out a table and chairs yet for the area, so the space sat empty.
Her dream kitchen was almost complete. The only thing left to do was restain some of the woodwork, put new copper ceiling tiles over the cracked and broken ones, and replace some of the lighting. She had plans to hang the copper pans she’d received for their wedding over the chopping block but hadn’t found the right hangers yet.
Checking the oven one last time, she decided to keep the pork warming until she heard the bell informing her that Isaac’s BMW had come through the old iron gate and was pulling up the long drive.
The gate mechanism hadn’t been repaired yet, so the large iron gates sat open. Isaac had wanted to know when someone was driving up the driveway and had installed the small security-type doorbell at the gate area himself.
She walked into the living room and glanced around. So much work still needed to be done here. They had a small leather sofa set directly in front of the fireplace. A large Italian baroque-style mirror hung over the Italian marble hearth. They had lucked out that the hearth had been undamaged and only needed a day’s worth of elbow grease to clean it.
Checking herself in the mirror, she applied her lipstick and smiled at her reflection. She’d grown her hair out because Isaac loved to run his hands through the long blonde tresses.
A few minutes later, she returned to the kitchen and checked again on the food, anxiously glancing down at her watch every few minutes. When an hour passed, she pulled out her cell phone and texted him. She guessed that he was probably flying home and didn’t want to distract him.
-Did you get delayed?
She thought of texting him fifteen minutes later after no reply came but didn’t want to bother him if he was in the air. She knew that he was cutting across the state and that his cell service dropped several times during the hour-long flight. He normally didn’t call when he was away on business trips since he didn’t have a lot of time to himself. Still, he made a point to text her when he could.
She hated being out of contact with him, but every now and then, he’d send her a text message or flowers. Every time the delivery truck showed up, she knew he’d been thinking of her. Yesterday’s flowers had been yellow roses, her favorites. He had texted shortly after they had arrived, but it had been just a quick one.
“Thinking of you. Always yours… IC”
Almost two hours after she’d expected him home, the bell finally chimed, signaling a car in the driveway. Rushing to the kitchen, she pulled out the pork and set it on the table, hoping it wasn’t too dry. She relit the candles.
Since the fog and rain were still so bad, she couldn’t make out his car as it came slowly down the long driveway towards the four-car garage where her own SUV was parked. She stood in the hallway waiting for him, excited to see him and start their new family together.
She frowned when the doorbell chimed. She’d expected him to walk through the doors and wrap his arms around her like he normally did. Hearing the bell, she wondered if she’d locked the front doors and quickly reached for the heavy metal handle. Pulling the thick wood doors open, she smiled brightly, but the smile died instantly when she saw a tall police officer standing on the front porch in the dim light. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember his name. He was roughly her age, tall, good-looking with a chiseled chin covered lightly with dark stubble from a long day. His jet-black hair was wet from the rain, making him look dark and dangerous, the kind of man Rose had always avoided. However, it was his green eyes that stood out to her most. The look in them told her instantly that something was wrong.
From the darkness, another officer stepped forward and she turned her eyes away from the first man. She’d known Rodney Carson most of her life. He was roughly the same age as her father would be if he was still alive. The man’s silver hair was thick and in desperate need of a cut. Still, his blue eyes had always looked at her with kindness and a hint of sadness that she always related to the loss of her father.
Both of the men’s hats and coats were soaked as they stood under the cover of the long porch that ran the length of the front of the house.
“Evening, Rose.” Rodney tilted his head slightly, then nodded to the other man. “This is my new partner, Sawyer.” Rodney took another step forward, twisting his hat in his hands. “May we come in?”
“Is there something wrong?” she asked, surprised she could get the words out. She was feeling a little light-headed.
“It’s best if we come in,” Officer Sawyer, replied. Her eyes moved back to him and she noticed that his green eyes were pleading with her.
She moved back and, without a word, the men stepped into the foyer. Their shoes and her heels echoed off the stone flooring that covered the entryway to her home.
“Rose, it might be best if we talk in there.” Officer Carson nodded towards the fireplace.
She moved as if on autopilot towards the warmth. Standing by the old mantle that Isaac had helped her clean, she turned on the men as they followed her towards the fire.
Officer Carson motioned towards the sofa. “Why don’t you—”
“Just spit it out,” she broke in, her shoulders held high.
Officer Sawyer set his hat down on the end table and moved closer to her.
“We’re sorry to be the bearers of bad news.” Sawyer took a deep breath. “Your husband’s plane disappeared this afternoon somewhere over the Atlantic coast. There’s a search party currently out looking…”
The man’s words faded away and she could hear her heart beat loudly in her ears just before a ringing noise consumed her. The room spun quickly and the last thing she remembered was Officer Sawyer reaching for her, his green eyes hovering above her as all else went dark.
Two
Sawyer’s fresh start…
He’d spent most of the last two years trying to forget Ann. She’d stomped on his heart hard when she’d left their short-lived marriage of two weeks for his best friend, Nick. The divorce had been quick, and she’d emptied out half of his savings account to move to California.
Leaving Cleveland had been a given for him after being left raw. His partner had retired, putting him in charge of training a rookie, something he didn’t feel he was any good at.
He’d packed what few belongings Ann had left him and driven to his new job in Twisted Rock. He’d spent a few summers visiting his grandfather’s farm in the picturesque town.
Having only good memories of the place, he’d submitted his resume at the local police station on a whim. When he’d gotten the call, he’d jumped at the chance to get out of the city and start a new life.
He’d sold the small condo he’d purchased the first year on the force and turned a tidy profit, enough that he’d been able to purchase a small converted-barn home. He’d fallen in love with the little place at first sight, from the bright blue barn door that opened up from the dining area onto a covered stone patio to the thick wood beams that held up the master bedroom loft.
It was the ultimate rustic bachelor pad, complete with a classic claw-foot bathtub and an open kitchen with wood shelves for his glasses and dishes. The wood countertops, steel sink, and cast-iron fireplace made the place even cozier.
Just beyond his patio was a small lake that was stocked with pike and trout. Half his weekends were spent sitting on the dock with either his wired-haired mutt, Ozzy, or his new partner, Carson, who’d taken to him right off.
He’d enjoyed the first few weeks on the job and was thrilled at the slower pace
of the town. Instead of calls about shootings, robberies, or domestic violence, he went out on calls for barking dogs, flat tires, kids vandalizing the school, and even a loose horse. He’d had to rush home halfway through the day to change his uniform after that one.
He enjoyed getting to know the people in town and remembered a handful of them from his summer trips visiting his granddad.
He’d stopped by the old man’s grave on several occasions and had even driven by the old mansion a few times.
The day had started just like every other day, with Ozzy jumping on his chest to wake him up five minutes before his alarm went off.
Eyes half-closed, he made his way like a zombie down the narrow wood steps and opened the back door so the dog could rush out and do his business. He stood there and watched as the sun rose over the lake. He really had to install the damn dog door he’d purchased last month so he didn’t have to get up so early each day.
Leaving the door open, he pulled out a mug and poured a cup of coffee. Thank god for programmable coffee makers. Taking the cup with him onto the back patio, he sipped the hot liquid as he watched Ozzy chase birds in the yard. He laughed at the small mutt as he tried to catch birds who were, without a doubt, way smarter than he was.
He checked his watch and then snapped his fingers to call Ozzy back to his side.
“It’s time to get ready for work, boy.” He scratched the dog’s chin when he jumped into his lap. Getting Ozzy was the first thing Sawyer had done after things had ended with Ann. She’d had a firm no-animal rule because she hated cleaning up after them.
For the two years they’d been together before marriage, she’d controlled everything about his life, including who he hung out with and what he ate.
It wasn’t until he was free of her that he realized how much of his life she’d controlled. He promised himself he’d never fall for a woman like that again and Ozzy was his daily reminder.
Taking the dog with him, Sawyer went inside and showered. He got dressed, pulled his service weapon from the hidden wall safe, and strapped it to his hip.
When he left the house, Ozzy watched from his spot on the back of the sofa. His sad eyes almost broke him, even though he’d be back for lunch to let the dog out again.
He parked his truck at the police station and was greeted by his partner, Rodney Carson.
“Carson.” He nodded to the older man. He was thankful they’d been made partners. There were several officers on the force that he didn’t get along with. Two of them, Rick Brown and Sue Madsen, were your classic know-it-all types. They felt it was their right to “show him the ropes.” He’d spent almost seven years on the force in Cleveland and had seen and done more than the backwoods cops had even dreamed of, including getting shot twice. There were times that he doubted the two officers had ever fired their service weapons at an actual person. And still, out of respect, he kept his mouth shut when they insisted they knew more than he did.
“Morning.” Carson fell in step with him. “We’ve got a call already this morning.” He pulled out his phone as they made their way towards the back door of the building. “I received a text half an hour ago.”
He sighed, waiting for it, knowing it was coming. “Goldsteins again?” he asked.
Carson chuckled and nodded. “They say that Dan has parked his truck and blocked their driveway again. We’ll head out there after we clock in.”
He nodded and followed Carson into the building.
The Goldstein and Tibbs families had been feuding for generations, or so he’d been told. It had all started when the Goldsteins purchased a piece of land from the Tibbs’s great-great-grandfather, long before the county roads were put in. The land hadn’t been anything special. However, when the county cut a road directly through Tibbs’s prime real estate, he’d demanded the Goldsteins sell back their lot of land to him. When they refused, court battles had ensued. The Tibbs family was left on the brink of bankruptcy, which had caused even more strife between the families.
When the court ruled in the Goldstein’s favor, the Tibbs family had taken to harassment tactics. Nothing illegal, and nothing anyone could prove, but tactics that were meant to annoy.
Why the Goldsteins hadn’t sold the land years ago was the question on the minds of everyone in Twisted Rock.
After clocking in, Sawyer and Carson drove out to the Goldstein property on the edge of town.
The older Goldstein met the patrol car at the edge of their long drive, which was indeed blocked by Tibbs’s beat-up pickup truck.
The county road ran directly in front of the old house and as Sawyer got out of the car, Carson motioned for him.
“Why don’t you go knock on Tibbs’s door and wake him up so he can move this eyesore. I’ll go deal with them.” Carson nodded towards the older couple.
Sawyer didn’t mind dealing with Tibbs since he was far more reasonable than the hysterical couple, who liked to shout and rage on.
He stepped up on the broken porch and was about to knock on the door when he noticed it was cracked open. He peeked inside, squinting his eyes in the darkness, and called out.
“Dan?” It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he rushed in as he called out to his partner, “Call an ambulance.”
Dan Tibbs was lying face down in a pool of blood and vomit. Sawyer rolled him over and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but he was alive. Sawyer grabbed a fresh towel from the kitchen and held it firmly over the large stab wound on the man’s shoulder blade.
Carson stepped in and looked around, blinking to adjust his eyes.
“He’s been stabbed,” Sawyer said. “Did you call it in?”
“Yeah, they’re on the way.” He knelt beside him. “Does he have a pulse?”
“Yes, it’s faint, but there.” He nodded to the knife sitting next to the man. “Stabbed in the shoulder blade.”
An hour later, after questioning the Goldsteins, who acted as each other’s alibi, he went back home to change out of his blood-covered uniform. He normally left a spare uniform in his locker at the station but hadn’t yet taken it back to work after getting it cleaned after the horse incident.
He tossed the soiled uniform in the laundry bin and was buttoning up the last button on his new shirt when his phone buzzed.
“Yeah?” he answered after seeing Carson’s name on the screen. His partner was sitting out in his driveway in the car, waiting for him to change.
“Got another call.” Carson sighed. “Better hurry, there’s an accident on the highway.”
Sawyer strapped on his gun again as he made his way towards the door. Ozzy stood at the door with a ball in his mouth, waiting to be let out so they could play, something they did every day during his lunch break.
“Sorry, buddy. I’ll be back for lunch, and then we can play.” He scratched the dog’s head, locked up, and rushed towards the car.
The patrol car raced towards the highway and, when they came upon the wreck, Sawyer instantly knew there’d be a fatality. He’d seen enough accidents in the city to gauge how bad it was at first glance.
Brown and Madsen had arrived before them, and Sawyer noticed that there was a white sheet covering the driver-side window on a small sedan, which was upside down. Madsen directed traffic around it and the other vehicle that had been in the accident.
Brown was hovering over a man that was leaning against the other car, near the edge of the road. The way the officer was standing, Sawyer knew he was interrogating the man.
“I’ll deal with Brown.” Carson nodded towards the two men. “Why don’t you go see if there’s anything you can do to help out Madsen.”
It was a huge relief to have a partner who could keep himself in check.
Sawyer made his way towards the upside-down car and, while Madsen watched, he nudged the sheet aside to make sure the person inside was deceased. He’d read reports about officers calling a death and then having the paramedics discover that the victim wasn’t actually dead.
Reac
hing in, he felt for a pulse on the woman’s neck and held in a sigh when he felt stillness there.
“I’ve already checked her,” Madsen said dryly behind him. “She’s gone. DOA.” Sue Madsen was a thick woman with muddy brown hair and a chip on her shoulder bigger than the state of New York.
“It’s standard practice to have two of us check…” He reached in and touched the woman’s wrist. When she flinched at his touch, he jumped slightly and held in a curse this time. “We’ve got a live one,” he called out. “Get those EMTs here fast!” He yanked the sheet aside and started first aid on the middle-aged woman.
A little over an hour later, he once again tossed a soiled uniform into the bin. He pulled on his last clean one as Ozzy waited patiently with the ball still in his mouth.
“Okay, buddy, this time I’ll take a few minutes and play with you.” He sat out on the back patio and tossed the ball as he ate a cold turkey sandwich.
Gathering up his soiled uniforms, he dropped them off at the cleaners in town before heading back to the station.
There was a standard one o’clock meeting every day and as he walked into the room, the entire office broke into cheers.
“What’s this all about?” he asked Carson who quickly got up and made his way towards Sawyer.
“Wendy Green is alive and recovering at the hospital thanks to you.” His partner was the first in the room to shake his hand. He noticed that neither Brown nor Madsen were present.
After the room settled, the chief of police, Matthew Deter, stepped in and quieted everyone down. The man was a bear of a person. He looked like an ex-lineman who’d seen too many hits in the game, but he was one of the nicest men Sawyer had ever worked for. The man was fair as well as very tolerant of some of the officers working under him that tended to goof off too much. He had a wicked sense of humor that most found too dry. He and Sawyer got along really well.
“As you’ve all heard, Sawyer is a hero for doing his damn job.” Everyone in the room chuckled. The chief held up his hands to quiet everyone again. “The fact remains that two of our officers failed this morning. They’ve been placed on admin leave until they attend further emergency training.” The room was quiet. “Which means we’re two short and we’ll all have to pull extra hours in the coming weeks until they’re back on duty.” Several people in the room groaned. “Yes, thank you, Officer Sawyer, for showing us just how far we’ve fallen from grace. I’ll be expecting everyone to sign up for extra medical training within the week as well.” Another groan went through the crowd, and the chief held up his hands once more. “Which is mandatory.”