Twisted Rock

by Jill Sanders

Deter’s eyes moved to his. “For now, I need him where he is. You can switch to evening shifts. Go see HR to arrange everything.” He waved him away.

  Sawyer walked out of the office feeling defeated. He’d come to Twisted Rock to make a fresh start, maybe even climb the ladder and someday become chief himself, later in life, when he wanted to sit behind a desk. Now, thanks to some movie star with financial problems, he was off the first real case that the small town had seen in almost a decade.

  An hour later, he was letting himself into his house while Ozzy danced around him, as if he had surprised him with a midday visit on purpose.

  He stripped off his uniform and pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed a cold beer, and walked out onto his back patio barefoot to watch Ozzy run around the yard. It was reported to be one of the last warm fall days for a while. They were expecting the first snowfall later next week and the temperature would be on a steady decline starting later that evening.

  He had just finished the beer when a car pulled into his drive. The late model rental parked behind his truck. When Kristy Owens stepped out, he frowned.

  “Miss Owens.” He nodded to her as she stepped onto the back patio.

  “What a quaint little place you have here.” The tone of her voice was pleasant, but he reminded himself that she was an actress.

  “Thanks. What can I do for you?” he asked as Ozzy rushed up to sniff the newcomer’s feet.

  “Oh, how cute.” The woman knelt and gave attention to the dog for a moment before straightening again.

  Today’s outfit was just as revealing as the previous one. The white suit was replaced with a pair of tight cream-colored pants the color of her skin and a bright yellow blouse that hung off one shoulder, almost exposing her left breast completely. She wore high-heeled boots that made her almost the same height as him.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked again.

  “I just came out here to talk, you know.” She rested her hand on his arm. “About what everyone is saying on the television.”

  “There’s nothing to it…” he started, but she broke in.

  “So, you’re not seeing Rose Clayton?”

  “No.” He sighed. “She’s simply a friend.”

  A smile played on her lips. “I was thinking about the other day.” She moved towards him and he held up his hands to stop her.

  “The chief took me off the case.” He saw the change in her eyes as her smile fell.

  “What has that got to do with us?” she purred.

  This time it was his eyes that narrowed.

  “There is no us,” he said clearly. “I know that you’re probably used to men falling at your feet, but I can’t afford to get tangled in the web right now.” He stepped back.

  Her bottom lip actually quivered as she frowned at him.

  “Everyone deserves a little fun.” She moved closer to him.

  He took her wrists in his hands easily, holding her away from him.

  “I’ve got somewhere to be.” He snapped for Ozzy to come.

  She pouted again. “If you change your mind…” She ran a finger down his chest. “You know where to find me.”

  He waited until she climbed back in the rental car and drove away before shaking his head. He’d been hit on plenty before, but never by someone so… driven before.

  He locked the house and helped Ozzy up into the truck. A nice long drive would settle his mind.

  He hadn’t planned on ending up at Carson’s place, but when he pulled into the driveway, his friend met him on the front stoop.

  “Evening.” Carson handed him a beer. “Did you come to sulk?” He bent and scratched Ozzy’s head.

  “No, I came so you could fill me in on the rest of the interview.” He sat down when Carson offered him a spot.

  Carson sipped his own beer and sat across from him. Ozzy jumped up next to his partner and enjoyed a snuggle. His dog was on a friendly basis with most people in town. He’d brought him over to Carson’s place on numerous occasions over the last year.

  “Not much happened after you left. Anderson asked her the same questions over and over. Rose didn’t slip up once and answered everything the same as she had before.”

  “Have you found out anything more?” he asked, getting to the heart of why he was there.

  “No.” Carson sighed. “I’m not supposed to share anything I do find out.” He looked at him. “Chief’s orders.”

  “Right. You still think she’s innocent?”

  “Rose?”

  He nodded.

  “Hell, yes. I saw what losing Isaac did to her. Even the best movie actress in Hollywood couldn’t fake that.”

  Sawyer ran his hands through his hair. “Who’s on the top of your list?”

  “Hell, I’m not a detective, but after hearing more of what’s been going on, there are a few people on the list.”

  “Yeah, just promise me one thing…” Sawyer started.

  “Sure.”

  “If you find something that might… tip things in her direction, you’ll let me know first?” he added.

  His partner was silent for a while, then nodded his head quickly.

  Driving home, he thought about what he knew about the case. He laid out the suspects and ran over the reasoning. He hated to admit it, but Rose was the one with the most to gain from Isaac’s death. She’d gotten all his assets, stopped the affair—if she’d known it was going on—and got her freedom. Still, the lost look in her eyes for those few months after Isaac’s disappearance ensured him that she had no clue her husband’s body was rotting in a wall under her feet.

  He pulled into his parking spot and let Ozzy out. The dog sprinted between his legs, barking. Thinking the dog had spotted a rabbit, he started walking towards the front door. He heard Ozzy let out a squeal of pain and then go silent.

  “Ozzy?” He sprinted in the direction that he’d seen the dog run, calling his name.

  Using his cell phone as a flashlight, it took him almost five minutes to find the unconscious dog. Blood seeped from a nasty cut on the top of Ozzy’s head.

  With shaky hands, he bent and caught up the dog, holding him close to his chest as he sprinted towards the truck.

  Holding Ozzy in his lap, he drove fast towards the vet while he dialed the emergency number on his phone.

  When he pulled into the parking lot, the vet and a staff member met him outside with a small gurney. Laying Ozzy down gently, he followed them into the clinic and answered any questions they had.

  No, he didn’t know what had struck the dog.

  Ozzy had been unconscious for almost five minutes before he’d found him.

  He sat in the waiting room when told to. His clothes were covered in blood, Ozzy’s blood. He stared down at his hands and thought he might lose it if someone didn’t come out soon and tell him his dog was okay.

  Half an hour later, Carson walked in.

  “Barb called.” He nodded to the woman behind the front desk. “What happened?”

  “Hell if I know. We left your place, and he jumped out of the truck when we got home. I thought he was chasing a rabbit, then I heard him cry out. It took me too damn long to find him.” He ran his hands through his hair. He’d washed the blood off, but the memory was still there. He rested his head on them.

  Carson slapped his hand on his shoulder. “Did you see anyone?”

  “No, I didn’t see or hear anything. Just Ozzy yelp out in pain.”

  Carson nodded. “I’ll wait around and see how he’s doing, then go and check out your place.”

  “Thanks.” He looked up as the vet walked out.

  “Ozzy’s fine.” She held up her hands. He liked Dr. Kelly. She didn’t BS and always cut to the chase. “He has a nasty bump on the head. I’ve had to put in a drain to allow some of the bleeding and swelling to go down. I’ll want to keep him for a few days to watch over him.”

  He nodded, not sure what she was talking about, and only focused on the fact that his dog was go
ing to be okay.

  “Do you know who hit him?” Dr. Kelly asked.

  “No. Are you sure he was hit?” he asked.

  Her eyes moved to Carson’s and she nodded. “I’d wager by the butt of a weapon, most likely a rifle. I’ve seen it a few times before. You can almost make out the shape of the stock. Plus, there was a scrap of jean material in his teeth. Looks like he was on protection mode before he got hit.”

  “Can I get the material, and do you think you can get an impression of the mark?” Carson asked.

  The woman held up a small baggie with a small chunk of dark jean material in it. “I can try for the impression. I’ll call you tomorrow if I get something. Until then, Ozzy’s resting comfortably.”

  “He’s awake?” Sawyer started to move past her, but she rested her hand on his.

  “I don’t want him to get excited. I’ve given him something and he’s resting. I want to keep him as still as possible to allow the draining. You can come back and see him tomorrow.” She smiled up at him.

  “Okay.” He swallowed then took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said again. “You’ve got my number if anything changes.”

  She nodded. Sawyer turned towards Carson. “Let’s go look for the asshat that did this to my dog.”

  They spent almost two hours scouring his land without finding any clues. There were some tire tracks on the main road about a mile from his place, but they could have been there for days. Still, he snapped a picture of them along with a few others.

  By the time he crawled into bed, he was exhausted. He was a little surprised when his phone chimed with a message from Rose.

  -I saw you on TV today.

  He groaned. -Don’t believe everything they say.

  -You weren’t taken off the case?

  -That part you can believe, yes. I’m sidelined.

  -What part were you talking about?

  He felt like kicking himself for thinking about the report about him and Kristy.

  -Nothing.

  -The part about you and my husband’s ex-mistress?

  -I’m not supposed to talk…

  He started typing, but she beat him to it.

  -You’re off the case now, so don’t tell me you can’t talk about it.

  He groaned. She was right.

  -I’m not seeing and have never seen Kristy Owens in any form other than to serve as protection by the chief’s orders.

  She didn’t respond so he added.

  -For the record, she’s not my type. My type leans towards a softer blonde-haired beauties with haunting blue eyes the color of the lake during a storm.

  He frowned when the phone was silent. Then smiled when her last message came through.

  -Thank you.

  Eleven

  Legal ease…

  She woke to a little dog licking her face. Smiling, Rose pulled Tsuna closer to her as Tsuna wiggled and whimpered.

  “Do you have to go out?” she asked and got her answer when Tsuna danced around and made happy little sounds.

  She pulled a long sweater on over her T-shirt, slid on her slippers, gathered the dog, and made her way down the stairs.

  Hunter was already awake and sitting at the kitchen table, glued to his laptop.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?” he asked, looking over his computer screen.

  “No, Tsuna has to go out.” She opened the back door and the little dog rushed out. Too late, Rose remembered the missing boards and rushed after the dog, who had gracefully maneuvered over the missing pieces like it was an obstacle course.

  She chuckled and leaned against the doorjamb to watch her.

  “Why did you get a dog now?” Hunter asked from his spot at the table.

  “I’ve always wanted one. I couldn’t get one when we lived at home because of your allergies, and Isaac had always said no because they were a big responsibility.” She shrugged remembering several of the arguments they’d had.

  She’d tried to persuade him that if they got a dog, she wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Isaac’s only argument was that they made messes and were a huge responsibility. Since she’d wanted to please him, she’d held off.

  “It’s small enough to be a rat,” Hunter joked. But when Tsuna entered the house again, he still held back slightly. She instantly worried about his allergies. She’d never seen him have a fit before and wondered how bad they were.

  “Is she going to bother you?” she asked, setting the dog down in her bed by the back door.

  “No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “We’ll see.” He turned back to his computer. “There was a new report out this morning.” He nodded to the muted TV and hit the remote. “It’s about to play again. It should help our case.”

  “Our… case?” She frowned as, once again, Isaac’s face filled the screen.

  “We are following new reports that have surfaced overnight that the late Isaac Clayton, the lawyer from Twisted Rock whose body was found in his wife’s basement, had taken part in an extortion plot along with his father, Sean Clayton, CEO of Clayton Law Firm, a prestigious New York law firm that boasts big clients such as…”

  Rose turned to Hunter with a frown. “Extortion? Who? What are they talking about?”

  Hunter hit the mute button. “It appears that Isaac’s father has been blackmailing some of his more famous clients,” he answered.

  “That’s terrible.”

  “There’s even a new angle that says Isaac went to his father and told him he wanted out, and Mr. Clayton killed him for it.”

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t see that… Sean loved Isaac. He was the best father.” She turned to watch the TV again as images of Sean Clayton flashed, several that she had taken herself and had shared on social media long ago. Sure, the man had been MIA since Isaac’s funeral. Since Isaac’s body had been found, she hadn’t spoken or seen Sean Clayton once. She didn’t even have an updated phone number for him. The number she had in her phone went to a pizza delivery company now.

  After Isaac’s death, she’d closed her social accounts, unwilling to deal with all the well-wishers. She’d remained offline ever since, which meant she hadn’t stayed in touch with most of the people from Isaac’s past.

  “Do you think it’s true?” she asked Hunter.

  He shrugged. “Who cares, if it gets the media and the police off your back.”

  She thought about it. “Yeah, but… you know Sean, the relationship he had with Isaac. Do you think he could do…” Her eyes went to the basement door. She had yet to go down there. Even when the new workers wanted to ask her questions, she remained at the top of the stairs.

  She knew they would be there again today, trying to close the massive hole that had been her husband’s grave. The crew had been working for the past few days repairing the wall in the basement as well as replacing all the windows in the house. She tried to avoid the basement and thinking about what she’d seen down there, so she’d allowed the new contractor, James Dylan, to do what he wanted so far.

  “Anyone’s capable of murder if pushed enough.” Hunter went back to work on his computer. “I’m sorry, I still have work to do…” He nodded to the screen.

  “Oh, sorry. How about I make you some pancakes?”

  He glanced up and smiled. “Blueberry?”

  “Sure.” She chuckled and got to work. It had been over a year since she’d cooked for someone.

  Whenever Hunter came down to visit, they would go out to eat or get takeout. She knew it was his way of getting her out of the house.

  Making the simple breakfast was like breathing for the first time in a year. She had cooked simple meals for herself and occasionally baked, but it wasn’t the same as cooking for someone. She’d missed it.

  After they’d eaten, she cleaned up, showered, and went up to her studio. She carried Tsuna’s bed upstairs with her and the small dog settled in the corner of the room to sleep. She glanced around the space.

  There were easily over a hundred new paintings. So many new on
es that she’d done after Isaac’s death.

  She started going through them, setting aside the better ones.

  When she had more than a dozen, she called her agent to see if she could arrange a showing soon.

  Julie Cromer had been her agent from day one. She’d gone to school with her in California. Julie’s career as an agent had shot off quickly after moving to New York and securing several bestselling artists, which had at one point included Rose.

  “Oh my god!” Julie answered her phone. “Please tell me you’re doing okay.”

  “I am.” She smiled.

  “What’s all this craziness I see on the news?” Julie asked.

  She sighed. “I don’t want to talk about that now. I want to talk about the stacks of art I have for you. Please tell me that you can help me unload some of these, so I can make room in my studio?”

  Julie was silent for a moment. “How about I make a trip up there this weekend to see what you have?”

  The possibility of Julie visiting again made her smile. She had come for Isaac’s funeral and had stayed for a few days after. She’d come back once a few months later after Rose had recovered from her breakdown.

  “I’d love it.” She was already mentally planning the meals she knew Julie enjoyed.

  “I’ll head up first thing Friday morning,” Julie said.

  “I can’t wait. See you then.” Rose hung up and went through the stacks of art once more, making sure she agreed with what she’d set aside.

  “Hey.” Hunter knocked on the door. “I thought…” He stopped and looked around. “Wow. I’ve never been up here.” He stopped and smiled at her. “Nice.”

  “Thanks.” She waved him in. She hadn’t let anyone else see the place, other than Isaac and Sawyer.

  The memory of when Sawyer had been up there surfaced, and she turned away to hide the blush the memory caused.

  “Julie’s coming up this weekend,” she said, moving the stack of paintings she had set aside.

  “Thinking of selling these?” He helped her set them on her workbench, the same bench where Sawyer had pleased her like she couldn’t remember Isaac ever doing.

  She needed to get her mind off the sexy cop.

  “Yes,” she said, keeping her eyes down until her mind cleared.