“No,” Rocky snaps, looking at me like I might be simple. “But I think, for anyone else, she would have cancelled this interview, regardless of what they said. Her keeping it tells me she’s going to be more trouble than usual. You tell her she is to stay away from this case! One man was already killed. I don’t need two amateur detectives nosing around and getting into trouble.”
“First of all, you can tell her that yourself. And secondly, I resent that.”
“And I don’t care. Stay away from this case, stay away from King Sr., and stay away from trouble. You got it?”
“You know, if you take away your condescending tone, I would almost think you sound worried.”
Rocky grabs my shirt, pulling me closer against him so our noses almost touch. It would look violent to anyone watching, but when I see him up close, when he freezes his hold, his warm breath brushing over me, I realize that it almost feels intimate. Even his gaze is heated, and his cheeks and jaw look harsh and all roughly angled from this position.
My hands rest over his chest, ready to push him away, when I feel his thunderous heartbeat thudding under his shirt.
“A man was shot and killed. I don’t want you around that.”
I feel myself soften against him. He’s worried.
“The last thing this town needs is a dead tourist in the news, keeping people away.”
And … I suddenly feel foolish and deflated.
I imagined his concern. His only worry is for the town and its reputation.
He lets me go then takes several steps back.
“This seems like my cue to remind you guys not to kill each other,” Love interrupts, her driver’s side door already open as she leans in and dumps her bag into the back. “Conner and I have somewhere else to be.”
“We do?”
“Yep.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I basically trip over my feet to get away from Rocky. Not quite the dignified exit I would have hoped to display.
“Love, I mean this: no more investigating.”
“It was just an interview, Sheriff. Nothing more. All my notes are about King Sr. growing up on this farm with his sister, about his wife when she was alive, and the memories he has of the places in Midsummer. Nothing else.”
He narrows his eyes on her. “I mean it, Love. If I hear of you dragging Conner into any more Nancy Drew bullshit, I will stick you in a jail cell.”
“Don’t need to worry about your man, Rocky. I’ll keep him safe.” She boldly gives him a wink, and then, before he can comment, she closes her door and kicks up dirt when she puts her foot down harder than necessary on the accelerator.
“What the hell, Lo?”
“I think that went well.”
“Well?” I shriek. “Are you mad?”
“What?” She lifts her shoulders in an unconcerned shrug. “We managed to get him to trip up over when he said he saw his son last, and did you see how weird he was? I mean, he showed more concern for some neighbor than his own son being murdered.”
A sinking feeling hits my gut. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope. Now, how do you feel about going to a bar?”
“Actually, getting drunk appeals to me a lot right now.”
“Awesome. I know just the place.”
***
It only takes one step into the dirty dive bar to realize that Love has an ulterior motive for bringing me to the outskirts of Midsummer and to a bar called Cool Sip. It smells weird, the music comes from a juke box that plays way too loudly to be able to have polite conversation, and the people here look like they’re part of the furniture.
“You come here a lot?” I ask Love, gingerly setting my elbows on the wet, sticky bar.
“No, but someone gave me a tip that someone else does.”
Before I can ask her more, she sits on the empty stool beside me and turns to look at the drunk curled up in the seat one down from her.
“Hey, are you John Troy?”
“Who’z askin’?” the man slurs, not lifting his head from resting over his forearm.
“My name is Love Fuller, and this is my friend Conner Sherwood. I heard you were best friends with King Jr.”
I inwardly groan while my eyes automatically shift to the exit where I figure Rocky will be entering in no time to catch us.
“So’z what?” Troy sounds defensive already.
“We’re sorry for your loss. Can I buy you a drink?”
He seems to perk up at that, lifting his head from off his arms as he looks over us both. “What’z this drink gonna cost me?”
“Nothing. Just want to pay some respect, you know?” Love says gently. She’s a natural actress. Maybe she should be chatting up with Angus Thom and asking for a career change? “We just spoke to Mr. Alder, but wow …” She whistles. “That man is stone cold, you know?”
Troy snorts, nodding. “He didn’t give one fuck for King.”
“Really? Mr. Alder said he was a good father.”
Troy really lets loose now. “Good father? He’z cared more about money than King. Waz all ready to marry him off to some bitch jus’ ta make a buck.”
“King was engaged?” I bite my tongue and mentally slap myself in the face. I shouldn’t be getting involved in this!
Again, I glance at the empty doorway, positive Rocky will interrupt any second and scold us. And even though I shouldn’t care that he’ll be angry, I honestly just don’t want to get on his bad side. Or, at least not more so than I already am.
“Did you mention a drink?” Troy says, waving his empty glass at us both.
Love motions for the bartender to refill Troy’s drink, laying a twenty dollar bill on the wet bar. She then turns to me. “What do you want?”
To get through this, I’m going to need something strong. “Bourbon.”
“Make it a double,” Love tells the bartender before shifting her eyes back to John.
“So, he was engaged? How come I haven’t heard of this yet?”
“I don’t know. Maybe yous should listen harder.”
Unperturbed by his now rude tone on top of his drunk slurring, Love keeps talking. “Who was he engaged to?”
“You know, this is feeling a lot more like an inter … interra … interrogation than a friendly drink. You’re not cops, are yous?”
“To King,” I say once I’m handed my drink. I lift it in the air, and Troy immediately mimics me.
“To King,” he gasps, shooting back his drink like it’s water.
I’m much less dignified, almost choking on the burning liquid as it scolds my throat and settles warmly in my stomach.
“Another!” Love calls out, and the bartender is quick to refill both mine and Troy’s drinks. “So, what was the lady’s name?”
“I’z don’t know. It waz some woman from Pazzzton. Think it waz Betty Zim, or Brenda Tim. Something likes dat.”
“Why was his father determined to get him married to her?”
Troy sighs, slumping his shoulder as though they had more room to drop. The man looks down on his luck and one drink away from passed out.
“I don’t know. Guess hiz dad didn’t want a queer son.”
“King was gay?” I ask on a gasp.
“I dunno. We didn’t talk about dat shit,” he snaps, suddenly irate. “Why don’t yous ask that Deputy Smith? He’z sure seemed to spend a lot of time with him.”
“Deputy Smith?” I hiss. “Are you for fucking real?” Already my mind races ahead to what that could possibly mean.
Deputy Dickhead is determined to pin this on me. I thought it was because of some misguided jealousy over Rocky, but what if it’s because he needs to pin it on someone before anyone figures out it was him? At the very least, it’s suspicious that he hasn’t mentioned any sort of relationship with King.
“Are yous going to buy me another?” he asks, waving his empty drink in Love’s face.
“I don’t know. Do you have anything else interesting to tell me?”<
br />
His glazed eyes assess us both, though who knows what he can even see through that haze. “King was in here Sad-ers-day night. Looked messed up.” He singsongs the last part, clearly getting drunker off his two shots, plus whatever else he consumed before we arrived.
“Messed up?” she asks.
He waves his glass at her, and she reluctantly signals to the bartender to pour him another.
He shoots it back easily, while I’m still nursing my second.
“Yeah, he had bloodied clothes, his head waz … I dunno. He looked wasted. He waz stumblin’ when he first came in. He wanted my keys, but I gave him my drink. Zen he had a lot more.”
“How long was he here for?”
Troy considers this, almost falling off his stool in his deep contemplation. “An hour. Maybe longer.”
“Did you leave together?”
“No, I wazn’t done.”
“But you gave him your keys?”
Troy shakes his head.
“How did he get home?” Love continues pressing.
“No idea. I guess the same way he got here.”
“Which was?”
Troy shrugs again. “My ass waz parked here the entire time.”
“So you don’t know if he planned on going back home?”
“What am I? Hiz mother?” He snorts, rolling the empty glass in his hands again.
“I’m cutting him off,” the bartender says to Love. “No more for him. He’s been here all day. Last thing I want is him drinking himself to death in my bar.”
Troy growls, but as soon as he stands from the stool, he needs to grab the bar to keep himself up.
He’s mumbling curses under his breath, but other than Love and me watching him leave, no one pays him any special attention.
“He’s not seriously going to drive home, is he?”
I watch him lurch outside the door and quickly stand to follow. It takes a moment to adjust to the light outside, but it’s easy to find the still stumbling drunk John Troy.
Love and I eye him as he approaches his car, but before he can pick up his fallen keys from the ground, a deputy walks over to him.
I haven’t seen this deputy before, but she’s in uniform and looks tough as nails.
“Who is that?”
“Deputy Abby Neil. She’s one of Rocky’s people.”
“Why is she here?”
“On and off from six until late, they try to hang around here. We used to have a serious problem with drunk drivers. Had a lot of accidents, and they often involved innocent people. It’s a touchy subject with Rocky, so I wouldn’t bring it up.
“Rocky started to get sick of it, so he would park out front, and if he couldn’t find them an alternate way home, then he’d drive them himself. It was so successful that he made it part of their job. Small town sometimes means we have lulls in crime. I mean, obviously since you’ve been here, we’ve had somewhat of a spike, but generally, it’s quiet here.”
“Sounds like you guys need to come into this century and get Uber.”
“I don’t think there is much money in that here. Everyone here drives. Those too old to still be driving have neighbors who help them out, and those too drunk are generally unwilling to pay up. Besides, who can make a living doing that?”
“In the city, it’s easy.”
Love shrugs, not budging on her opinion. However, if they want to attract tourists, then having more than a few buses going to neighboring towns is going to be something they need to think about. They don’t even offer loan cars at the mechanic’s.
“So,” I mumble, thinking out loud, “that could mean someone might have been out here Saturday night to see King stumbling around drunk?”
Love’s eyes light up. “That’s right. I wonder who was on that night? Maybe they gave them a lift home?”
“I was at the station making my statement that night. Rocky was with me, and so was Deputy Dickhead.”
Love laughs at the name I didn’t mean to say out loud.
“Well, as far as I know, they at most have two people on at night, but it might be more for a weekend.” She frowns for a moment before her eyes light up. “Hey, Abby!”
The deputy, who is shoving Troy’s ass into the back of her car, looks up.
“Were you working Saturday night?”
“You mean the accident? Yeah, I was there all night with the sheriff.”
“Oh, I thought Deputy Smith was working?” she asks, sounding like her words are innocent enough.
“He was working,” she agrees. “He was here.” She then closes the back door on John and gets in the front.
“Holy shit, Deputy Dickhead was possibly having an affair with King and very well could have been the last person to see him alive,” Love gasps, her face alight in excitement before she grabs my arm. “You have to tell Rocky.”
“What? No way. Are you insane? He just gave us that little speech about letting this go not even two hours ago.”
“But we can’t just say nothing!”
“He’s investigating this. There is nothing that we found out just now that he can’t, as well.”
“Yeah, like Troy is going to open up to him the way he just did to us. And what about Deputy Dickhead? Nice name, by the way.” She gives me a quick wink before she turns serious again. “Rocky needs to know about them possibly being an item, since Randy clearly isn’t being open about that part. And until you’re clear, Rocky can’t be fully working the case. You think Randy is going to put anything forth that shines him in a bad light?”
“What if we’re wrong? I mean, Troy was wasted, and we gave him the perfect opportunity to buy him drinks.”
“But what if we’re right?”
I groan, shaking my head again. “He’s going to be pissed. Can’t you tell him?”
“He doesn’t want to fuck me.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“At least, if he’s fuming mad, you can get his mind elsewhere. I can’t do that.”
“Love!” I snap. “I’m their number one suspect; what do you think he’s going to do when I start telling him shit about Deputy Dickhead? It’ll sound more legit if it comes from you.”
“I’ll back you up if you need it, but I think you’ll do better without me.”
“I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”
Her smiles brightens. “Then let’s change that.”
Chapter Eleven
I cringe away from the bright light of the sun, the glare reflecting off the glass enough to blind me. Why the hell does it have to be so fucking sunny when my brain is in hangover hell?
Love honks her horn from the sidewalk, the noise shooting straight into my head like a sledgehammer to my brain.
Last night, she treated me to several more bourbons, and she filmed me doing some absolutely embarrassing things. If she thinks I’m going to put a single one of them up on my socials, then she has another thing coming.
Just as I place my hand on the door, it swings open, almost throwing me off balance.
“Is there a reason you’re standing in front of my station at eight in the morning?” Rocky snaps, his voice just as deafening as Love’s horn.
“Two reasons,” I say around a groan, grabbing my head in hopes the world stops spinning. “Love has a secondary job as an evil alarm clock that doesn’t shut off, I might have fucked up last night, and I’m dying.”
There is a pause, and I wonder if he hasn’t silently shuffled off and left me talking to myself, but then his voice rumbles around me.
“That’s three reasons.”
“Seriously?” I groan, leaning my head against the doorframe, keeping my eyes closed and ignoring the urge to take a peek at Rocky. It might be satisfying, but the blinding sun is everywhere. I’ll get burned from somewhere.
“Come in,” he finally growls, pulling me inside and leading me toward the back and into his office.
When he sits me down in a chair, I risk opening my eyes,
finding it blissfully sun-proof since his blinds are closed. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it isn’t still bright.
I almost shut my eyes again, but then the light above us goes out.
“Stay here. I’ll be back.”
Rocky shuts the door, and I move out of the chair he sat me in and shift over to the couch that I recall being here. I have to use my hands to steer me into not knocking anything over. Once my hands touch the soft leather fabric, I groan as I collapse onto it, lying on my side and folding my legs to make sure I fit.
I feel as though I blink once before Rocky returns, a soft light over his desk the only source of light in here, and thankfully a bearable one.
“Sit up and drink this.” He hands me a hot drink, the steam heating my face as I reluctantly do as he says.
“What is it?”
“Macy’s hangover cure.”
“Who is Macy?”
“She’s the lady who runs the coffee shop next door, Macy’s Coffee Gold.”
I take a sip of the hot beverage, thankful when it doesn’t make me immediately want to hurl. “Not bad.”
“Want to tell me why you’re here?”
“Not really.”
He sighs, clearly not amused with me. Then he proves he’s annoyed by turning his office light on, blinding me, before crouching back down before me.
The pounding light burns my retinas, and I close them instantly, not that I can get the complete darkness back now.
“Conner,” he says in warning. “I’m a busy man.”
“I know. I just know you’re going to be pissed.” I peek a look at him to find his eyes are narrowed in suspicion.
“You and Love kept investigating, didn’t you?”
“Again, I had no idea what she planned. She just took me to a bar.”
“Cool Sip?”
“Yeah. We talked to some guy named John Troy. Apparently, he and King were best friends.”
“Goddammit, Conner! This is not your job, and it could be fucking dangerous!”
I wince at his loud tone. “I know! Okay? Like I said, I had no idea what we were doing until we were there.”
“I’m going to kill Love!”
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