WINSLOW
“I’m going to go hang out with Pops for a while today,” I told Griffin as we ate breakfast at the kitchen island.
“I’ve got to head up to the south side of the ranch where we’ve got some horses grazing and make sure the creek still has enough water for them. If it’s too dry, and I suspect it’s getting that way given how hot it’s been all week, I’ll have to move them closer to a spring. Want to come with me?”
“How long will it take?” “Probably most of the day.”
As wonderful as a Saturday spent with Griff on the ranch sounded, I hadn’t spent enough time with Pops in the past two weeks. Or at my own home. Since the night of the impromptu sibling dinner here, I hadn’t gone to my house for anything but five minutes to grab the mail.
“I’d better skip this one. I need to go to the house and clean. It’s dusty and stale. Maybe build that TV stand that’s been sitting in the box.”
“Or . . .” Griffin set his fork down, twisting in his seat to face me. “You don’t build the TV stand.”
“My television is on the floor.”
“But that one isn’t.” He pointed over my shoulder to the flat screen mounted above the living room’s fireplace.
“At some point, I’m going to want to watch TV at home and not have to sit on the floor so it’s at eye level.”
“How many minutes have you watched TV at your place in the last month?”
“Zero.” “Exactly.”
“But I already bought the stand. Why wouldn’t I build it?” “Because you don’t need it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Winslow.” My name, stated in a way that sounded like I was missing the point.
“Griffin.”
“You watch TV here. You sleep here. Your stuff’s all over the bathroom and your clothes are covering the closet floor.”
“I need to do laundry.”
“Yeah, and when you do that laundry, it’s going to be in the washer and dryer right down that hallway.” He nodded toward the laundry room.
“Do you not want me to use the washer and dryer?”
“No.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s yours. Just like the bathroom’s yours. The bedroom. The closet floor. This kitchen. That TV. This house is yours.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
He laughed again, fitting his wide palm to the nape of my neck. “Think it over. You want to keep your place in town for a while, that’s fine by me. You want to get it listed before summer’s over and the market has its seasonal dip, then we’ll get ahold of your realtor and bring the horse trailer to town to move everything out here.”
My jaw hit the floor as he slid off his stool, kissed my forehead and disappeared toward the bedroom, probably to find some socks so he could go on about his day.
Did he just ask me to move in? To live here? Actually, no. He hadn’t asked. There hadn’t been a single question mixed in with his string of brain- scrambling statements.
Did I want to move in? Yes. I loved this house. I loved the comfort that came with turning off the highway and onto his quiet gravel road. I loved sunsets on the porch and waking in Griffin’s arms.
But it was too soon, wasn’t it? I’d lived with Skyler for years. I’d just separated my life from another man’s. And I did love my little house in town.
That cute, charming little house with the red door that I’d neglected for weeks and weeks.
Griffin, his feet in socks, snuck up on me, still frozen on my stool. I waved him off when he reached for our plates. “I’ll clean up.” “Okay.” He kissed my hair. “See you later. Dinner?”
I nodded.
“Have a good day, baby.”
“You too,” I murmured, the words coming on autopilot.
It wasn’t until he was out the door and the rumble of his truck vanished that I shook myself out of my own head and loaded the dishwasher. Then I went to the bedroom and grabbed a load of laundry.
I worked around the house for a couple of hours, waiting to transfer my clothes to the dryer. I dusted the living room. I vacuumed the bedrooms. I mopped the floors.
Should I move in? Maybe that question was unnecessary.
Every pair of panties I owned was beneath this roof. Most were in the hamper, or the vicinity of the hamper. But the others were stowed in a drawer in the closet. He’d given me three drawers, half of the dresser. The same was true in the bathroom.
I cleaned. I brought groceries here after work. The Durango was parked out front whenever I was on duty and driving the station’s Explorer. All that
was missing was my mail in the mailbox.
Except I knew that if this fell apart, I had a place to go.
Deep down, maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was the reason I couldn’t find myself immediately saying yes.
Because he still hadn’t said those critical three words. Neither had I. Each time he kissed me, each time he made love to me, I felt them. So why couldn’t I give them a voice?
By the time the dryer dinged and my clean clothes were in a drawer or hanging on a closet rod, I still wasn’t sure what to do. So I headed into town to visit the man whose bear hugs always grounded my feet.
Pops opened the front door to his house before I’d even shut off my Durango. When I stepped out, he held up a hand, halting my steps on the sidewalk. “Now I’m going to warn you right now, Winnie. I had bacon for breakfast. The house and my clothes reek of it. I know it’s not on the diet plan, but dang it, I’m going to have it once a week. Maybe twice.”
“Okay.” I laughed and walked into his outstretched arms. As expected, one hug and I was steadier. “How are you feeling today?”
“Productive. Mowed the lawn this morning. Picked up around the house. Now I get to relax with my best girl.”
“You’d better be talking about me.”
He chuckled, slinging an arm around my shoulders to bring me inside. “You know I am.”
We settled on the back deck, watching the river flow. The lazy swirl, the lap of ripples along the banks, was as soothing as a sunset on Griff’s porch.
My porch. It could be my porch. “You look nice today,” Pops said.
“Really?” I was in a simple white tank top, denim cutoffs and tennis shoes.
“It’s not your clothes, sweetheart.” His eyes softened. “Are you happy here? In Quincy?”
“I am. Quincy agrees with me.” “Or maybe it’s Griffin.”
“Maybe.” A smile tugged at my mouth. “He asked me to move in with him.”
“Yeah? And what did you say?”
“Nothing. Yet. I’m not sure what to do. It’s soon.” “Pfft. Soon is relative.”
“I lived with Skyler for years. Don’t you think I need to be on my own for a while?”
“Winnie, you might have lived with Skyler, but trust me when I say, you were on your own.”
I opened my mouth to argue but the words died on my tongue. Pops was right. I’d lived with Skyler, we’d been engaged, and I had most definitely been on my own.
“You two coexisted,” Pops said. “That’s not the same as companionship.”
“I don’t think I realized how lonely I was in Bozeman,” I admitted. “Since Mom and Dad.”
And then I’d come here, and from the very first night, I’d had Griffin. He’d chased away that loneliness with such ferocity, I hadn’t even realized how much I’d needed someone to burst into my life and shake it up.
“You went through an awful ordeal,” he said. “So did you.”
He reached over and put his hand over mine. “It’s not the same.”
For the first time in weeks, I thought about the crash. It had been . . . how long had it been? The last nightmare I could remember had been after the Fourth. Weeks of peaceful sleep and Griffin was the cause.
“I made a decision yesterday.” Pops patted my knuckles. “Want you to be the first to know.”
“You’re retiring.”
He nodded. “It’s time. This little health blip put things in perspective.” “A little blip?” I rolled my eyes. “You had a heart attack.”
“Minor.”
“A heart attack, minor or major, is not a blip.”
“Call it what you want, but it made me realize I’d rather spend the rest of my time without heartburn. I see these other old-timers sitting at Lyla’s shop each morning, talking about the weather and the gossip in town. I think that would suit me just fine.”
“You’re going to get bored.”
“Guaranteed. I’ll probably drive you crazy. Stopping by unannounced.
Staying over uninvited.”
I laughed. “In that case, I fully support your retirement.” “Good.”
“I’m proud of you, Pops. All you’ve done for Quincy.”
“You know, Winnie?” He sat a little straighter. “I’m proud of me too. It’s been a good run as mayor. A long, good run. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“Name it.”
He leaned in close. “The day you fire Tom Smith, you’ll tell me first.” “Deal. Well, I’ll tell Tom Smith first. But you second.”
“Before Griff.”
“Before Griff.” I winked. “I hope whoever becomes my new boss is as great as you.”
“You’re biased.” “No, I’m not.”
In my short time here, Pops had given me the freedom to do my job. He was always there as a resource, but he didn’t micromanage the station or demand to know what was happening with certain cases.
I was sure that Frank had given Pops an earful about Briggs Eden, but Pops hadn’t waded into the fray. He trusted me to do my job and make the
right decision.
“Can I talk to you about something confidential? While you’re still my boss?”
“I’m all ears.”
“It’s about Lily Green. And Harmony Hardt.”
I told him about the wallet and the purse. About how I’d found them at Briggs Eden’s cabin and everything he’d told me when I’d brought him into the station last month.
It was all information I hadn’t wanted to burden him with after his heart attack. That and nothing else had come from my investigation. There were no more leads to follow, no more questions to ask. Gossip about Briggs had mostly faded away too.
“There were no fingerprints besides those belonging to Briggs,” I told him. “Not even the girls’ prints. Which leads me to believe that someone put them up there for Briggs to find.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure.” It had been bothering me for a month, but as I turned it around in my head, over and over, nothing made sense. I’d even called Cole in Bozeman to get my former partner’s opinion on the case.
Cole had been as stuck as I was. And without evidence, I was stuck.
“Maybe someone is trying to set Briggs up,” I said. “To tie him to both Lily and Harmony. That purse might just be a replica of Harmony’s. Maybe it was Lily’s.”
Without fingerprints, I wasn’t sure. I’d tried to hunt down a recent purchase on Lily’s credit card statements but there was nothing that had shown her buying a leather purse. I’d even stopped by some shops downtown to see if they sold it and no one had recognized it.
“If the purse was Lily’s, it would explain why it was in such good shape,” I said. “Maybe she bought it and never showed it to her mother.”
And it would explain why it had been with the wallet. “She might have dumped both before . . .”
“Poor kid.” Pops shook his head.
“There’s one more option. Briggs might have been there the nights they died, and he took Harmony’s purse and Lily’s wallet.”
“And then left his trophies on a bookshelf for you to see?” Pops blew out a long breath. “It’s a stretch.”
“Maybe he doesn’t remember where he found them. Maybe he wasn’t lucid.”
“For Lily, it’s probable. From everything you’ve told me, he’s slipping. But Harmony Hardt died years ago. I don’t think Briggs has been experiencing severe symptoms for long. Let me play devil’s advocate. What if he was there? What if he had something to do with it?”
“I have no evidence.” Speculation, however, I had in abundance. “Someone could be setting him up. Someone who wanted me to think that he might have had a hand in their deaths.”
“Who?”
I shrugged. “The only person I’ve ever heard talk badly about him is Frank.”
“And that’s all old drama.” Pops waved it off. “Frank’s a good friend, but between me and you, he’s always had a bone of contention with the Edens. It’s jealousy. Plain and simple. So take whatever he’s told you with a grain of salt.”
“I have.” I sighed. “I just . . . I feel like I’ve let these girls down.” “You want answers.”
“Very much.” For their families. “I’m missing a piece. Had Lily left a suicide note or had there been a sign she was struggling, I might not feel like this. But as it stands, I can’t let it go.”
“You need to.” Pops put his hand on my forearm. “I’m saying this as your boss. You’ve done everything you can to make sense of their deaths.
But, Winnie, people go through dark times. You know this.” “I do.”
“It doesn’t always make sense.”
“You’re right.” My shoulders slumped. “I was ready to put it away. To let it go. Then the purse and wallet showed up, and I just . . . gah. I hate dead ends.”
“They exist in this world to torture people like you.” “You’re not wrong.”
“What’s Griffin say about all of this?”
Since our fight a month ago, Griff hadn’t brought up Briggs other than to give me an update on what the doctors had found.
Harrison had been taking him in regularly to meet with a specialist. There wasn’t much they could do, but they’d enlisted him in a drug trial and everyone was hopeful it would slow the dementia’s progression. But it was early on and that road was long.
“Griff knows I have a job to do and he’s respecting my position,” I said. “Because he’s a good man.”
“He is.”
“A heck of a lot better than Skyler.” Pops spewed the name with a lip curl.
“I thought you liked Skyler.”
He arched a white eyebrow. “No. He was never good enough for you.
Your parents thought the same.”
“What?” My mouth fell open. Mom and Dad had always been so nice to Skyler. They’d invited us over for regular dinners. They’d helped us move in together. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s an asshole.” Pops chuckled, his chest shaking. “We used to talk about him behind your back.”
“You did?” I smacked his shoulder. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“We all knew you’d figure it out eventually. Though I think your dad was losing patience. When you got engaged, he about lost it. The pissant didn’t even bother asking for his permission.”
I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. I stared unblinking at my grandpa’s profile as he watched the river flow like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my lap.
My parents hadn’t liked Skyler. If anyone but Pops had told me, I wouldn’t believe it.
But in a way, it made me feel better. That they’d landed on the same conclusion I had, though much earlier.
“Wow.” I shook my head. “And Griffin? Is there anything you want to tell me now?”
Pops turned and gave me a sad smile. “They’d love Griffin.”
I pressed a hand to my heart as my eyes flooded. Dad would have dropped everything to help me move my stuff into Griffin’s house. Mom would have loved sitting on the porch to watch the sun set behind the mountains.
“I wish they could have met him,” I whispered. “They did meet him.”
“What? When?”
“Oh, it had to have been years ago. They came to visit. You were busy working, so it was just them for a weekend. We all went down to Willie’s for a drink. Harrison and Griffin were both there.”
“Griff didn’t tell me.”
“The bar was packed and he’s not exactly unpopular. But I recall your mom made the comment that she wished you’d find a man like that. A sexy cowboy. Your dad teased her mercilessly for that. Said he was going to go home and buy a pair of boots to wear around the house naked.”
“Oh my God.” I buried my face in my hands, torn between laughing and crying. Because that was so them. And the fact that they’d met Griff, just
knowing they’d seen his face . . . I didn’t know why it was important to me, but it was.
Tears won out over the laughter, and as a few leaked down my face, Pops put his hand on my shoulder.
“I miss them.”
“Me too,” he said.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“We don’t talk about them enough, sweetheart.” “That’s my fault.” It had been too hard for too long. “I’d like to. If you’re all right with it.”
I nodded. “I’d like that too, Pops.”
He squeezed my shoulder, then stood. “How about a snack? I’m hungry.”
“I can get it.” “You stay.”
The whoosh of the river was my soundtrack as I replayed my conversation with Pops. For too long, I’d held Mom and Dad close. I’d hoarded their memories. But we needed to bring them into our lives.
Griffin might not have known them like Skyler, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Through my memories, he’d know them. Through my love for them, they’d be part of our future.
Pops returned with a plate overflowing with red grapes, whole-wheat crackers and baby carrots. All things I’d brought him earlier this week.
“Are you in a rush to head home?” he asked after the plate was empty. “No. Why?”
“How about a game of backgammon?”
“That would be fun.” I hadn’t played in ages. Not since before Dad had died. Backgammon had been his favorite game to play with Pops. Then he’d taught me.
Pops and I played for hours, until the heat from the afternoon sun drove us inside to the dining room table, where we played one last game.
“That was fun.” He grinned as he put the board away. “It sure was. But I’d better head home.”
“Whose home?”
“Griffin’s,” I corrected, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Thanks, Pops.”
“Love you, sweetheart.” He hugged me tighter, then let me go. “Have a good night.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
We’d played longer than I’d expected, and by the time I got outside, it was close to dinnertime. I pulled my personal phone from my pocket—the station phone was in the other, and though carrying two phones was a huge pain in the ass, since Pops’s heart attack, I hadn’t gone anywhere without either, fully charged.
I was about to call Griffin and see if he wanted me to stop downtown and pick up something for dinner, but before I could unlock the screen, the clank of metal on metal carried from the house next door.
“Hey, cutie,” Frank called from the garage. He was wearing a grease- stained pair of jeans. A red rag was hanging out of a front pocket.
“Hey.” I stuffed my phone away and smiled, muffling a sigh when he waved me over.
His attitude toward Griffin at the hospital still grated on me, but this was Frank. This was my grandpa’s best friend and the guy who’d been there when I hadn’t been to drive Pops to the hospital.
“How are you?” I asked, stepping into the garage. The smell of metal and oil was so strong I scrunched up my nose.
“Oh, fine.” He tossed out a hand to the Jeep. “This vehicle might be the death of me. Especially if Rain keeps losing parts.”
I laughed. “How’d she lose parts?”
“Lord, if I had the answers to solve the mystery that is my beloved wife.” He laughed and kicked a tire with his boot.
“Frank—oh, Winnie!” Rain poked her head out the door that connected the house to the garage, and when she saw me, she rushed out, coming my way to pull me into a hug. She wore an apron tied tight and was holding a meat tenderizer.
“Hey, Rain.”
I’d seen her a few times since I’d moved to Quincy, each on my trips coming and going to visit Pops. She was one of those lucky women who didn’t seem to age. Her hair was the same light brown as I always remembered, her skin smooth except for a few fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Her hug was as fierce as those I remembered from my childhood.
Mom had always joked that for a slender woman, Rain was as strong as an ox.
“Are you cooking?” I nodded to the tenderizer mallet.
“I am.” She shook it and laughed. “Chicken fried steak. Frank’s favorite. How are you, little bird?”
“Good.” I smiled at the same nickname she’d called me since I was a kid. “Frank was just telling me about a few missing parts for the Jeep. Did you go wild cleaning the garage?”
“Never.” She laughed. “This is his mess.” “Then how’d you lose a part?” I asked.
“Driving,” Frank answered. “Somehow this summer, she lost a hubcap.”
A hubcap. The tire he’d kicked was missing the cap. My eyes darted to the front wheel. It was capped with the hubcap I’d seen in the back of Griffin’s truck weeks ago on a grocery store run. The one he’d told me Mateo had found on the road to Indigo Ridge.
“I saw a hubcap like this . . .” I locked my gaze with Rain’s. “I didn’t realize that you drove the Jeep.”
Her smile faltered. “Well, sure. It’s my only car.”
Why would she go on the road to Indigo Ridge? That was private property.
Something prickled at the back of my neck. An uneasy feeling. I didn’t need a mirror to see the color drain from my face.
Rain must have noticed it too. “Frank, close the door.”
It took me three seconds too many to register that sentence. It took me three seconds too many to look between my lifelong friends and realize what I was seeing. Because in those three seconds, Frank punched the garage door opener clipped to the Jeep’s driver-side visor.
And Rain lifted the mallet.
It took me three seconds too many to shed my personal bias and grasp that these people—neighbors, friends—were not as they seemed.
Three seconds too many. Before the lights went out.
