by KB Jacobs
Walsh nodded slowly.
I picked up one of the piles. “Barb and Colby both work in the tasting pub area and could be behind all this, especially since the fire started in the kitchen.” I shook my head. “But I just don’t see it. This is entirely gut instinct with these two, but they both seem to love their jobs. They know everyone in town and have nothing but praise for Lake and the changes she’s making. They love her.”
Walsh smiled with pride as I set those two files to the side.
“These are the files for the three guys that work in the packaging room.” I blew out a gusty sigh. “And I just don’t know with any of them. Smitty is an old guy who just wants to do his job, be left alone, and then go home. He doesn’t really seem to connect with Warner and Joe, but they’re several decades younger than him. He’s not a huge fan of Lake’s because he likes the good ole boy idea of guys brewing beer.
“But does he have enough of a beef to be doing all this? I don’t know. Honestly, I’d be surprised if he did. He just doesn’t seem like a guy who’d get motivated enough to cause all these problems. But then again, how many times have serial killers turned out to be the quiet guy who always sat in the corner? I’m not a profiler, so I don’t know.”
I picked up Warner’s file and rolled my eyes with a laugh. “I think this kid’s biggest sin is that he’s completely entranced with Melissa, and that makes him blind to anything else.”
Walsh nodded. “Yeah, he has it bad for her. He didn’t take it well when Anthony showed up on the scene.”
“I can imagine.” I flipped the file open to the listing of family members. “But you know, this kid’s family reads like the who’s who of Aspenridge. His older brothers seem to have their hand in every civil job in the town—detective, paramedic, physical therapist, and security expert. I think his brothers would pound him to dust if he did something like this.”
“No doubt, and have you seen those guys? Beside Warner, they’re all huge and scary.”
“Which they obviously get from their dad.” I’d met him the day before when I’d been out riding my bike, trying to clear my head. “Did you realize their dad is the mayor?”
He nodded. “Yeah, he’s coming and speaking at the opening.”
“Hell, their lineage reads like Aspenridge royalty, if there was such a thing.”
“No doubt.” Walsh laughed. “So, no to Warner. What about Joe?”
“Joe isn’t as straight-forward. He has a temper. He and Warner got into it one day in the packaging room.” I pulled a sheet of paper out of the file. “He also has a criminal conviction for assault.”
“What?” Walsh’s eyes widened as he read over the paper.
“It seems there are extenuating circumstances with a situation between his sister and the guy she was dating. It also happened when he was only nineteen. He got a year of probation, but that may point to motive if he still has those anger issues.”
I picked up one of the final two files. “And that brings me to Harlan.”
Walsh rubbed his mouth uncomfortably. “Lake loves him like a second father. If he’s the one doing this, it’ll crush her.”
“On paper, he’s the one with the most motive and opportunity. He was there almost from the beginning with her father. Who’s to say he doesn’t resent her taking over the brewery instead of him? My gut tells me that he’s innocent, but I don’t get a bad feeling about anyone at the brewery.”
I picked up the final file. “Which is why I included this one in the search.”
Walsh picked it up and read the name. “Brandon Wyatt? Who is this?”
“He’s one of the delivery drivers. He has an extensive criminal background, including doing time and gang connections. With his history, he shouldn’t be allowed to drive long haul or deliver alcohol. My private investigator found that he’s working for you under a false license. At a minimum, he’s guilty of that and should be arrested. I just got the verification late last night about what my PI found. I wanted to talk to you before I turned over the information to the detective this morning.”
Walsh blew out a gusty sigh as he scanned the pile of files. “Yeah, we need to call Spencer, but that feels too easy. What are we missing, and why can’t we see it?”
I shook my head. I’d spent hours going over the files and hadn’t been able to see it. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“Maybe we should get with the girls and discuss it.” Walsh gave me an innocent look, but from a mile away, I could see him scheming a way to put Alex and me in a room together.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry, Walsh. That isn’t going to work. It’s better if I stay away from her. That way, I don’t get tangled up in that perfect smile of hers.”
I’d thought she’d been in the same place as me—falling hard. But she’d just been using her charm on me to coax me into going out. She wasn’t a bad person. She just wasn’t the person I thought her to be. I thought we’d connected in more ways that just sex. But to her, that was all we’d been.
Walsh frowned in concern. “You don’t think she’d manipulate you, do you? I know she works PR like your mom, but Alex isn’t—”
“No,” I scoffed. “She’s not like my mom in that way. I know that. Alex doesn’t want to run my life, but if I see her again, I don’t think I’ll be strong enough not to beg for the crumbs she offers. I just can’t.”
Going that way would destroy me, little by little. I’d been in a dark place before. Watching her date other guys—guys who I knew would be better looking and have more to offer her—would be the quickest way to get there again. I just couldn’t.
It was time for me to head back to Denver.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Alex
“Thank heaven for bitter beers,” I crooned and danced around a toppled stack of books. A bitter beer for a bitter celebration. By my estimation, it was appropriate. “For bitter beers get better every day.”
I pushed a pile of clean but unfolded laundry to the side of the couch and collapsed onto the worn-out cushions. I might not have a man at home like Lake and Melissa, but I had cold beer, hot pizza, and sweatpants. Kinda the same thing.
Besides, I knew at least five guys I could call up any time who would be more than happy to take me up on an evening of...whatever.
Except I wasn’t calling them.
Who needed men? I was a self-sufficient woman in a top position at a growing business. See ya later, glass ceiling. A man would only complicate things. Expect me to be at his beck and call no matter how important my job was. Want me to cook dinner or clean. I glanced around at the disaster zone in my living room. Not gonna happen.
Men could suck it.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I set my beer down and glanced at the screen, groaning. Another man being a pain in my ass.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“There’s my princess.” His voice boomed over the phone line. “You made quite the impression on Mr. Cambridge. He’s been talking about you non-stop. Would love to get together again while he’s still in town.”
“Listen, Dad—”
“I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you making time in your busy schedule to help out your old man. We’ve always made a dynamic duo.”
I held in the sigh. Classic Dad move. Shut down any hesitation with over-the-top praise and gratitude.
“We do.” I grabbed my beer and took a quick sip. “But with the brew pub opening next week, I just don’t see how I can squeeze him in.”
“You have to eat, right?” Ice clinked in the glass of whatever he was drinking. I glanced at the clock. Nine in California. Bloody Mary. “It wouldn’t even need to be dinner. Maybe you could have lunch together.”
“I don’t think—”
“I need you on this, Alex. Daniel took a liking to you, and he’s who I need to make this project a reality. I’m counting on you to make this happen.”
I switched the phone to speaker and pulled up my calendar app without
even thinking about it. Full days of meetings filled my screen. Tomorrow I was supposed to do a sample run of the new pub menu at lunch, but if I moved that to later in the afternoon...but that would conflict with the early filming I promised the news station.
“So what do you say, baby girl? I’ll let him know you can meet up tomorrow. How is The Treehouse? There was a good write-up of it online. I can make the reservation—”
“No.”
“Okay, what other nice restaurants are in town?”
“No, The Treehouse is an excellent restaurant, but I won’t be having lunch or dinner with Mr. Cambridge there or anywhere else.” I closed my calendar app and stood, leaving the phone on the couch.
“Alexandra, what has gotten into you?” A bang sounded through the phone, and I pictured him slamming his half-full glass on his desk. “I told you I need you to seal the deal for me.”
“Seal your own deal, Dad. This is your life, your work, not mine. I have an important job here. One that I really like, and it’s time you realize that.” I took another sip of beer to keep my courage up. “So no more. No more business dinners with old men who think my thigh is an armrest, no more hasty press releases to explain bad behavior, no more catering to every errant whim you or Mom have.”
“Well, I can see you’re in one of your moods tonight. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“If you call tomorrow, and I happen to pick up, then my answer will still be a resounding hell no. Good night.”
I lunged for the phone and hit the red disconnect button with enough force to mash the phone down into the cushions.
Holy Shit.
I’d done it. I’d finally told my Dad no. Not “maybe” or “I’d think about it” because we both knew that always turned into a “fine, I’ll do it.” I actually refused to jump through his hoops.
My body sang with adrenaline. Fuck, that felt good. I tipped my bottle back and drained the beer. Damn, that was good. I bounced on the balls of my feet, extra energy urging me to move, dance, sing. Anything but sit here like a lump on the couch, eating lukewarm pizza.
I grabbed my shoes and made it halfway to the door before I realized the person I’d planned to run to wasn’t there. Damian had already left for Denver, and his cabin was empty.
A dull throb ached in my chest, knocking my victor’s high down a notch. I pushed aside the winter coat that never made it into storage and sank into an old Lazy Boy. Lake and Melissa were right here in town, and either one of them would be thrilled to hear that I finally stood up to my dad. But they weren’t who I’d thought of first. I’d thought of Damian.
Shit, fuck, fuckety damn, hell. I brushed at the falling tears. I should be dehydrated from how much my eyes had leaked in the last few days.
I threw my head back to stare at the ceiling. This was new. I’d never missed a guy before. We would go out, maybe have decent sex, maybe even go out a few times. End of story. I never sat and wished he were there. But here I was, and Damian was in Denver, and it was no use denying I wished he were still here. I wanted him next door so I could run over with a six-pack of beer and the world’s best popcorn and tell him word for word how I told my dad to shove it.
Melissa and Alex made falling in love sound like some magic ride on a glow-in-the-dark unicorn.
This felt more like riding a mechanical bull while wearing a thong one size too small.
I pulled myself up and trudged to the kitchen for another bottle of beer. As long as I was going to be a not-in-love Alex, I might as well be a drunk Alex. Drunk Alex might have a chance of finding sleep. Drunk Alex might be able to numb her heart enough so this blinding pain eased—at least for a few hours. Drunk Alex wouldn’t miss Damian so much that it hurt to breathe. Fuck and damn. I took a long swig of my fresh beer. I really needed Drunk Alex to get here faster.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Damian
My driver pulled the car up to the security console outside the gate of my downtown Denver property so I could type in the code. My fingers barely shook as I punched in the code. Three weeks ago, I would have been a blubbering mess at this point...after both a flight and the following drive.
Granted, I wasn’t exactly steady, and the two glasses of whiskey I’d drunk on my flight from Aspenridge had helped to take the edge off, but I wasn’t a complete basket case on the edge of a panic attack. That was thanks to Alex and my time in the small Colorado resort town. It had changed me in more ways than one. I had to make sure I didn’t backslide into my old, hermit-like habits after I was home.
As the car pulled around to the parking at the side of the house, I noticed the lights were on in the guesthouse. I clenched my jaw. My suspicions were confirmed when the front door of the guesthouse opened, and my mother stepped into the light illuminating the front walk from inside.
“Damian?” she called across the terraced space dividing us. “What are you doing home?”
I handed the house keys and a tip to the driver. “You can set the bags just inside the door. Thank you.” I strode over to my mom. “I think the better question is why are you here instead of New York?”
She was dressed very casually in yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt with her long hair up in a ponytail and her face scrubbed free of makeup behind her glasses. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her without her armor of professional polish. She looked younger and softer without all her meticulous grooming. It was easy to forget that she was barely in her fifties. She presented an everyday appearance meant to slay the corporate dragons that she dealt with on a daily basis.
Her hands fluttered. My arrival had obviously taken her by surprise, and she wasn’t sure how to handle me.
But that was okay. I had no desire to be handled. “Mom?” I prodded.
“I had to come and take care of letting go of your staff as you requested.”
I nodded. “And then? That couldn’t have taken more than a few hours, and you left Aspenridge three days ago. Why are you still here?”
“I don’t know, Damian.” She sounded defeated and so sad.
Guilt punched me in the gut.
“I just couldn’t leave, especially after the way we left things between the two of us. It didn’t feel right. I called the office and took a week off. I felt like I needed to be close by. Just in case you needed me. I wasn’t going to interfere, though,” she quickly added. “I planned to stay here, out of your way.” Her eyes pleaded with me to understand.
And I did. I was her only child, and yeah, she’d spent most her life, trying to smother me in love, but was being too loved really such an awful thing? Compared to the way Alex’s parents treated her with tolerance and disdain until they needed her for a photo op or a favor, my mom wasn’t really so bad.
I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her.
She stiffened at first but then relaxed into my arms.
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d hugged.
When I released her, she pulled back and surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. She studied me for a moment. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve voluntarily let me touch you since you got hurt?”
No, I hadn’t realized that. Again with the guilt. “I’m sorry, Mom.” I ran my hand across the back of my neck. She’d been smothering, but I had been just as bad about going to the opposite extreme. “Maybe we can come up with some sort of...I don’t know...compromise. You don’t smother me, and I’ll try harder to not push you away at every turn.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly.
“I need to shower.” I might not have been a totally panicky mess on the flight and drive, but my stress levels had still been higher than normal. I needed to wash the sweat off. “Give me an hour, and then how about you come over and we can watch a movie together?”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up, but then she glanced down at her clothes. “But I’m a mess.”
“You look perfect for a movie night. The point is to be relaxed. Besides, that way you don’t have to wo
rry about rubbing your buttery fingers and ruining your suit. You look perfect.”
“Okay.” She smiled at me. “I’ll meet you in the media room in an hour.”
“I’ll have the popcorn ready.”
***
An hour later, I was climbing the walls, ready for my mom to arrive. I’d spent the last three years basically alone, but never had I felt like loneliness permeated every part of my house like I did tonight.
This went beyond missing Alex, which I did like a phantom limb. I faced a loss of focus, a reason to get up in the morning. But I had no idea what to do about it. What did I want to be when I grew up? I think it was past time to decide.
The Ghost Squad Charities mission was basically fulfilled. Before that, I’d had the Army. I couldn’t go back to that. What would I do besides roaming around my big...empty...house?
After Alex and I had our fight in Aspenridge, I’d stayed busy by compiling the files and researching the Naked Brews employees. Even when I’d been alone, I’d had a purpose.
Now, I had nothing. And I could feel the bleak black of loneliness lurking, threatening to swallow me whole.
“Damian?”
I turned around and found my mom watching me worriedly. I hadn’t heard her come in.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“I said your name at least three times.”
“Sorry, just lost in thought, I guess.”
She nodded and bit her lip as if she wanted to say something else but decided to hold it back.
I could support that.
“The popcorn smells good,” she said.
I’d already made up two bowls and handed one to her. “I hope it’s okay, but I already have the movie queued up.”
“Sure.”
We sat down, and I pushed the remote to start the movie. When it became obvious what we were watching, I could feel her curious gaze on me, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to have to explain why we were watching an admittedly campy movie from the nineties to my mom. This was self-torture, but I needed to feel that connection to her. Even if it hadn’t been real, it had felt like it was that night.