by Barb Han
Summer took the first step toward the coffee shop and Dawson kept hold of her hand. He also realized he’d know immediately if she recognized one of the men from yesterday based on involuntary muscle spasms. Her grip would tighten on his hand. He would have a couple extra seconds of warning with physical contact that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.
He opened the door for her and followed her inside. The coffee shop was at the end of the street and had a fairly large outdoor space from what he could see. The temperature inside was no different than out.
Several hipster-looking waiters and waitresses moved through the crowded space. The inside of the coffee shop was relatively small. There was a long bar-height counter with a couple of people working the register and another pair manning the machines.
There were roughly a dozen tables. Several of them had two or three chairs nestled around them. There was a long green velvet sofa along one wall with several small laptop-friendly tables in a line. There were outlets galore.
Outside was impressive. There were more tables than he could count and lots of trees in planters. They hid people’s faces. It was harder to stand at the front door and get a straight-shot look at everyone.
He took note of the other little nooks and corners. A couple of people in suits were hunkered over a table in one corner. There was pretty much every type of person in the coffee shop. The corporate types nestled around small tables and chatted. There had to be at least a couple of politicians, along with several political aids. At least one older gentleman had a hardback book the size of War and Peace in his hands as he sat with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His coffee mug sat on the table in front of him. He had that intellectual look with his sports coat and nylon slacks. He was most likely a professor at UT, which was a short walk from here.
Other than that, there were all manner of tattooed people milling about or at the chairs. Blue hair. Pink hair. Nose piercings. One lip piercing. Then, there was the usual crush of backpack-wearing students.
Dawson took it all in. He was used to sizing everyone up and evaluating all threat as a matter of habit. He knew where every exit door in the room was located.
Summer squeezed his hand. He glanced toward her and she nodded at a guy behind the counter. Man Bun was so busy manning the machines and frothing milk that he didn’t bother to look up. He had an AirPod in one ear and seemed to be jamming out in a zone as he made orders and checked what looked like order ticker tape.
Time to see if Man Bun recognized Summer.
Chapter Ten
Dawson wanted to see Man Bun’s unfiltered reaction to seeing Summer. He would be able to tell a lot about Man Bun’s involvement or lack thereof in Autumn’s death based on his initial reaction.
“I’m not sure how much I look like her like this. She never stepped out of the house without being all done up with full hair and makeup.” Summer removed the glasses and ball cap. She fluffed her hair.
“In my opinion, the two of you don’t look much alike. But there’s enough of a resemblance to trick an acquaintance.” He meant every one of those words. Autumn and Summer couldn’t be more different as people. Summer had a warmth about her despite being very reserved. Autumn was more of an in-the-moment type. She had a bigger personality. The thought she’d been abused in her young life and that had caused her to become a bigger-than-life person on the outside with that same trapped little girl on the inside nearly gutted him.
Her defense mechanisms were well honed, and she’d had a lifetime to polish them. Knowing this helped ease the frustration he felt from being burned by her lies. Trauma could do that to a person. He’d seen it too often in his line of work where someone detached from society to protect themselves.
Those tendencies usually caused folks to fall into the trap of abusing drugs or alcohol, sometimes both. Based on what Summer had said so far, he believed Autumn had developed an alternate persona instead.
It was a shame she’d had to do that in order to survive their upbringing. He had even more respect for Summer as he got to know her. She embodied strength and probably a little bit of stubbornness, too.
Any survivor had to have a stubborn streak. Used the right way, it could be very helpful because they didn’t give up once they set their mind to a goal. Sometimes, that goal was simply not to let the past break them.
It was a rare quality to have that kind of determination when it seemed the world was against a person. She was rare.
There was no arguing Summer Grayson was special.
She squeezed his hand before letting go, took in a breath and then closed the distance to the counter. Standing right in front of Man Bun, she cleared her throat.
Dawson stood back and to the side, pretending to study something on the screen of his cell phone.
“Can I help y—”
Man Bun looked up. A hint of recognition passed behind his eyes before he plastered on a smile. Fake? Or was it the kind that people gave when they couldn’t remember someone who obviously knew them?
“Hi. Remember me?” Summer plowed ahead through the awkward gaze. He had to give it to her. The stubborn streak made her strong when she probably wanted to bolt. The streak in her also meant justice was coming for her sister because Summer had the kind of tenacity normally seen in a starving pit bull going after a slab of meat.
Man Bun cocked his head to the side and squinted at her. This looked like he was trying to figure out if they’d dated or not. He gave the impression that she looked familiar but he couldn’t place her.
“Autumn Grayson,” she persisted.
Dawson scanned the room for anyone within earshot who took notice of the name. Nothing there. He sure as hell hoped this trip would be more productive in the investigation than it was turning out to be. He was about to take Summer to identify her sister’s body. He couldn’t think of a more awful thing for someone to have to do.
The only bright spot about this trip was supposed to be coming home with a lead to bring them one step closer to justice.
Man Bun threw his head back and smiled, genuine this time.
Dawson took a step closer to the counter so he could more clearly hear what Man Bun had to say.
“You remember me?” Summer did her best to sound perky. Perky wasn’t a word he’d use to describe her personality. She was playing the part well, offering a bright smile as she put her hands up on the counter.
Dawson had no idea if she realized what that meant with her body language. But it was a show of trust, instinct at its finest, showing the person she was connecting with that she wasn’t carrying any weapons.
“I do now.” Man Bun stepped to the side where the counter was lower and nodded for Summer to follow. She did. He leaned across the smaller table like he was about to tell her a secret.
Dawson leaned a little closer and for reasons he didn’t want to examine, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. He didn’t like Summer getting anywhere close to Man Bun. The guy would be considered attractive by most. He looked like one of those celebrity soccer players from Latin America who made millions for his ability on the playing field.
“Where have you been?” Man Bun seemed to recognize Summer now.
“Around. You know how it is.” Summer shrugged her shoulder, playing nonchalant.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. Did you get a haircut?”
“How long has it been since the last time I was in here?” She paused, playing the ditz. She reached up and twirled a long strand of her wheat-colored hair. “I know it hasn’t been so long that you would actually forget me.”
Dawson stepped forward interrupting their conversation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open so that Man Bun would get a glimpse of his badge.
“How well do you know this person?” He nodded toward Summer.
Man Bun’s eyes darted over toward some
one on the line who was wearing a slightly nicer shirt and Dawson assumed was in management.
“Is that your boss?” Dawson followed the man’s gaze.
Man Bun nodded. “One more strike and I’m out of a job.”
“I can speak to him. This is official business.”
“Nah, man. I don’t want to make him suspicious. Just ask me what you want so I can get back on the line.”
“How do you know Ms. Grayson?” Dawson asked.
“She’s a regular. Comes in here all the time. Vanilla latte with whipped. It took me a second to recognize her because she looks different today.”
“You talk to her a lot when she comes in?” Dawson asked.
“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulder casually. “You know, when it’s not busy. She’s a good tipper and we like to treat our customers more like family.”
Man Bun’s eyes kept darting back toward his boss. Obviously, the guy was on his last strike and Dawson didn’t want to be the reason he ended up without a job. The guy’s answers were genuine and as much as Dawson wanted this to go somewhere, it wasn’t going to.
“One last question. Did you ever see her come in here with anyone?” Dawson asked.
Man Bun looked at Summer as though she’d lost her mind. It was pretty obvious she was standing right there and his question was written all over his face, Why not ask her?
“She never really came in with anyone. Every once in a while, she would go outside, and I would lose track of her. People come in here all the time.” He glanced around as though the crowded room was his proof. “As you can see, we’re pretty busy.”
He nervously glanced over at his boss and then the ticker tape machine that was kicking out orders. “If that’s all, man, can I get back to work? My orders are stacking up.”
“That’s all I need for now. We’ll be back in touch if we have more questions.” Dawson produced a business card from his wallet. “If you think of anything else, I’d appreciate a call.”
“Yes, sir.” Man Bun’s gaze bounced from Dawson to Summer and back. “Can I go now?”
Dawson nodded before reclaiming Summer’s hand. He linked their fingers and turned to walk out the door.
Man Bun did an about-face. “Hey, now that I think about it there were a couple of dudes in here the other day asking around if anyone had seen her. I was thrown off a minute ago and forgot all about it.”
“Can you describe what they looked like?” Dawson asked.
The descriptions fit the men Summer had encountered to a T.
“Have you ever seen them around before?” Dawson continued.
Man Bun shook his head.
“Thanks for the information.”
Summer’s hand tightened around Dawson’s. She had a death grip on his fingers. The men who’d tried to attack her and who’d planned to kill her had come looking for Autumn in the coffee shop. The killer must not know Autumn was dead.
She didn’t speak until they got outside, walked half a block and made sure no one was around to overhear their conversation. She’d already replaced the ball cap and sunglasses, and he could almost feel her heart racing through her fingertips.
“He was being honest, wasn’t he?” she asked.
“I believe so. I didn’t detect any deception in his behavior.”
The disappointment on her face was a gut punch. He squeezed her hand for reassurance and his heart took another hit when she looked up at him with those big violet eyes.
“Then, we’ll keep going until someone has information about her.”
* * *
DEAD ENDS WERE EVERYWHERE.
Summer took in a deep breath as she and Dawson made their way back onto the highway and toward Katy Gulch. The body suspected to have belonged to Autumn Grayson had, in fact, belonged to her sister. Decisions had been made about her sister’s arrangements, despite the thick fog that had settled over Summer. Dawson had been a rock and she couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him. The fact that he knew her sister at least on some level provided comfort. He seemed to genuinely care about what had happened to Autumn, despite her lies. That was the thing, underneath all those lies was a terrified person. The lies were like a wall that Autumn had used to keep everyone at a distance.
All Summer felt since was a deep dread and a sense of being completely numb. At some point, her brain might get to the point it could process what it had seen. Not without justice. Not without making those bastards pay.
Summer realized she’d been gripping the seat belt strap across her chest. At least she wasn’t tapping the window. As far as nervous ticks went, hers were on full tilt.
About halfway home, Dawson’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and handed it over to her. “Do you mind checking to see who that is?”
She checked the screen. “It’s your brother Colton.”
“Would you mind answering and putting it on speaker?” Dawson’s grip on the steering wheel was as tight as hers had been on her seat belt moments ago.
Obviously, seeing Autumn at the coroner’s office was affecting him. He’d cared about her sister once. He was a decent human being. And he was being incredibly understanding about Autumn’s personality layers.
She pushed the button to put the call on the truck’s speaker.
“Hey, Colton. You’re on speaker and I’m in my truck with Summer Grayson.”
“I look forward to meeting you at some point, Summer.” There was not a hint of judgment in Colton’s voice.
“Likewise,” Summer said. She’d like to have the chance to meet all of Dawson’s siblings. If they were half as decent and kind as Dawson, she couldn’t think of a better caliber of men to be acquainted with. It was a foreign feeling to have one person who had Summer’s back for a change. She couldn’t even fathom having an entire support system in the form of a big family.
She’d never given much thought to having kids of her own. She always figured she’d get to a point financially where she could take care of herself and her sister. Open that small business they’d dreamed about. Then, she could think about a husband and possibly children down the road.
“What’s going on?” Dawson asked his brother.
“Are you heading home?” Colton asked.
“On our way now,” Dawson confirmed.
“You might want to make a U-turn.”
Dawson navigated into the right lane and took the next exit. “What did you find out?”
“Gert has been doing some digging. You know Gert. Once she’s on a scent, there’s no stopping her.”
Dawson glanced toward Summer. “Gert is his secretary.”
Gert sounded like Summer’s kind of person.
“I’m guessing she found something.” Dawson said to his brother. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“It might be nothing, but it’s worth checking into and I know you’ll want to follow up on this yourself.” Colton paused. “I apologize in advance for being frank with—”
“Please, don’t worry about me. All I care about is justice for my sister,” Summer said.
“Okay. Here’s what Gert found. There was another strangulation victim in the Austin area. The tool used was a violin string. There was no DNA evidence in the case. The victim was twenty-eight years old and she had violet eyes.”
“Same MO,” Dawson muttered under his breath as he flipped on his turn signal and then banked a U-turn under the bridge.
Chapter Eleven
“I’ll send you the file so you can take a look at witness statements.” Summer wiped a stray tear as Colton continued, “It’s a cold case.”
She turned her face toward the passenger window like she was listening intently. In truth, she was trying to hold it together.
“How old is the case?” Dawson tapped his flat palm against the wheel.
�
�The murder happened two and a half years ago.” The timeline could mean this guy moved on to Autumn. She might’ve gotten away and relocated to Katy Gulch to hide out where she met the one man who she believed could protect her. That would explain her wanting to stay on a secluded ranch and all the lies.
“What was her name?” Summer asked. She couldn’t help herself. People in law enforcement would refer to her sister now as the victim. Summer wanted to know the young woman’s name.
“Cheryl Tanning,” Colton supplied.
Cheryl Tanning. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, either.
“There were several suspects.”
“Which one do you like?” Dawson asked.
“She used to frequent a coffee shop called Capital Coffee. Didn’t you say you were visiting a place downtown that Autumn used to go to?” Colton asked.
Summer put her hand over her mouth to cover her gasp.
“We were just there,” Dawson admitted.
In Summer’s mind, the coffee shop would be a great place to scout a target for someone with an agenda. It was busy. All types of people came in and out. So much so, that people hardly noticed each other.
“So, it’s the same place,” Colton confirmed. “Okay.”
“Is there mention of any other spots Cheryl used to hang out?” Dawson asked.
“That was the main place. There was a guy in her life, but her friends said she was very protective of him. No one knew who he was. A few names came up in the investigation. You’ll see those in the file notes.”
“I’ll grab a place to stay. We might want to settle in for the night,” Dawson said on a sigh. “I appreciate the information and tell Gert she did good work.”
“She’ll be tickled,” Colton said before saying goodbye and ending the call.
The signs for Round Rock, a large suburb north of Austin, showed they were close to Austin again.
“Thought we might grab a place here for the night. We can take a look at the files and then follow up on any discoveries. There’s every kind of food imaginable, which I can pick up. I’d rather you be seen as little as possible while we investigate.” There was so much warmth and compassion in his voice. “And now it looks like we need to circle back and visit the coffee shop again.”