WINSLOW
A
cry lodged in my throat as I jolted awake. Sweat beaded at my temples.
I squeezed my eyes shut, dragging in a breath to calm my racing heart, using every fragment of mental fortitude to shove the nightmare from my mind.
My parents used to say, “It’s just a bad dream, Winnie.” This wasn’t a dream.
The blood, the mutilation, was real. The lifeless eyes. The scream, my own, that still rang in my ears five years later.
Would these nightmares ever stop? They’d been worse since moving here. They’d haunted me almost every night.
Beside me, Griffin shifted. The sheet he’d pulled over us after the last tumble dipped lower, revealing the sculpted contours of his muscled back. The broad shoulders. The dimples just above his ass.
I slipped out from beneath the cotton and stood from the mattress, still on the floor. On tiptoes, I padded out of the room, easing the door closed behind me.
My clothes from work were strewn alongside Griffin’s in the living room. I snagged his T-shirt, pressing it to my nose. It smelled of laundry soap and the masculine, natural spice of the man who’d made me see stars
last night. I breathed it in again, drawing comfort from the scent, before pulling it over my head. The shirt hit me on my upper thighs and skimmed below my bottom, but at least I was covered in case one of my neighbors was awake too.
A favorite part of this house was the living room’s bay window. A narrow bench seat was built beside the glass, not wide enough for lounging, but enough to sit and stare into the night. There was comfort in the tranquility of this street. Peace in the silence of sleepy homes and glowing porch lights.
The nightmare tapped at my temple, begging for attention. I pushed it away and studied Griffin’s truck instead, tracing the Eden ranch brand on the passenger door with my gaze. Then I closed my eyes and pictured him on my couch. Naked. His washboard abs bunched. His hips thrusting. His cock like velvet and steel.
Focusing on sex probably wasn’t the right way to cope with my past, but for tonight, I didn’t care about right. I just wanted the nightmare gone. So I imagined Griffin’s face as he came, the clench of his stubbled jaw and the bulge of his biceps as his body shook through its release.
We’d fucked hard on the couch. Afterward, I’d expected him to leave, but he’d carried me to my bedroom, and if I’d thought the sex had been good before, with a little space to move, he’d shown me the power of that large body.
Orgasm after orgasm, I’d practically blacked out after the last round. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Sleeping with him was undoubtedly a stupid decision. An addicting, toe-curling, stupid decision. Self-control was typically my specialty, but when it came to him, the rules didn’t seem to apply.
Griffin Eden was tantalizing. Magnetic. Rugged and bold. And naked in my bed.
I pulled my knees up, stretching his shirt over my calves. Three yawns were my body’s way of reminding me just how tired it was, but I didn’t want to sleep. The dream would come back. It lingered too close to the surface. So with my temple to the window, I stared into the darkness. Alone.
The nightmare—a memory—always left me feeling alone.
My breath fogged the glass and the chill from the house brought goose bumps to my forearms. I was about to give in, to sneak into my bedroom for a hot shower, when the shuffle of bare feet filled the room.
Griffin emerged from the hallway, the sheet wrapped around his narrow waist. His steps slowed when he spotted me in the window wearing his shirt. “You okay?”
“Just couldn’t sleep,” I lied.
No one knew about my nightmares. Not even Skyler. He’d never asked why I woke up in the middle of the night, only that when I did, not to turn on a light. It might wake him up and he had work.
Griffin nodded and walked to his jeans, dropping the sheet to pull on his pants one thick, strong leg at a time. He left the top button undone and the belt hanging open as he strode my way, dragging a hand through his disheveled chocolate hair.
I’d tousled it myself earlier, holding on to it as he’d sucked my nipples into his talented mouth.
“I’d better get going.” His deep voice was fogged with sleep and the rumble sent a shiver down my spine.
“Okay.” I nodded, taking in his bare chest. The dusting of hair on his pecs was too tempting and I raised a hand, my fingers brushing through the coarse strands. His heartbeat was so solid and strong, like everything else about this man.
“Are you going to give me my shirt?” “Are you going to take it?”
His hands went to the hem, lifting it up and over my head. Then he smirked as he put it on his own body, covering up the hard stomach and the sculpted V at his hips.
This man was better than any fantasy. Better than any romance novel hero or movie star. Better than any lover who’d ever taken me to bed. Not that I’d had many.
The cold air from the window skated over my naked skin, but I didn’t move from the bench. I waited while Griffin grabbed the sheet and brought it over, wrapping it around my shoulders before finding his boots amid the boxes.
An awkward quiet settled in the room. Casual hookups were completely out of character for me. Even in my early twenties, the only men I’d been with had been boyfriends. Then Skyler.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I stayed put, listening to Griffin buckle his belt. It had been easier at the bar to simply get in my car and drive away.
Mom had told me once that I wasn’t the sleeping-around type. I was like her, a woman who loved. Did it make Mom wrong that I liked this fling with Griffin? There was no love between us, simply lust.
I didn’t want Mom to be wrong about anything. I wanted her to remain a perfect memory, the beautiful woman who’d loved me before the nightmare.
“Hey.” Griffin’s hand came to my shoulder, his thumb drawing a circle on top of the sheet. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Tired.” “You sure?”
I nodded and slid off the bench’s ledge. “Thanks for staying. When Skyler was here.”
“Is he going to be a problem?”
“I don’t know.” But after Griffin’s display with the condoms, I doubted I’d see Skyler again.
“So, um . . . this.” He gestured between us. “Probably not a great idea if it becomes a regular thing. I’m busy.”
Busy. That term grated on my nerves but it didn’t matter. I was busy too. “Agreed.” The orgasms had been out of this world but I was too raw for
any sort of relationship, even if it was only for sex.
“Good.” He breathed, like he’d expected me to argue. “Lock up behind me.”
I was the chief of police, I had a black belt in karate, and I knew my way around a pistol, yet this man wanted to assert his protectiveness.
I hated that I liked it.
“See you around, Griffin.”
“Bye, Winn.” He waved once, then headed for the door.
I waited beside the window, watching until his truck disappeared down the block, then I locked the door and went to the bedroom. The air smelled like Griffin and sex.
The fitted sheet on the mattress was rumpled and my comforter had been kicked to the foot of the bed. The black alarm clock on the floor beside a discarded pillow showed it was three thirty. There was no way I’d get back to sleep, not now, so I dropped the sheet and went to the bathroom for a scalding shower.
Dressed in jeans and the black button-down shirt that every officer wore as part of their uniform, I headed to the station.
The night shift was just a skeleton crew, so it was quiet when I parked in my reserved space. The dispatcher at the desk jerked in surprise when I walked through the door.
“Oh, uh, hi, Chief.”
“Good morning.” I smiled. “Hope you guys have some coffee on.”
“Just brewed a fresh pot.” He nodded, then buzzed me in so I wouldn’t have to use my key.
With a steaming mug in hand, I retreated to my office, where stacks of files from yesterday were waiting, and I wasted no time diving in. The shift change at six was a bustle of activity and more than one officer gave me a wide-eyed look when I emerged from my office to join them in the bullpen.
Conversation was stunted. Laughter limited. I listened in as the night shift gave their summary report, then returned to the solitude of my office so they could have a few minutes without the boss eavesdropping.
Maybe one day, they’d welcome me into their huddle. Maybe one day, it wouldn’t bother me that they didn’t.
“Knock, knock.” Janice poked her head inside my office. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” I smiled and waved her in.
“You okay?” she asked, studying my face.
I opened my mouth to lie but a question came out instead. “Can I confess something?”
“Sure.” She took a seat across from my desk, the folder she’d brought along resting on her lap.
“This is my first job as the boss. You probably know that already.” She nodded. “Yes.”
“Is it that obvious that I haven’t done this before?” “No, but we all read the paper.”
My lip curled. The reporter had completely omitted my résumé, making it seem like my only qualification was the last name Covington. “I’m used to being in the bullpen, not in an office. I’m used to being in on the conversations, not on the receiving ends of the official reports. I’m used to being included. I didn’t expect it to be so jarring, the difference between being an officer and being the chief.”
“That’s understandable.” Janice gave me a soft smile but didn’t offer any advice.
There was none to give. I wasn’t an officer. I was the chief.
The line between the two was necessary, even if that put me on one side, alone.
“Anyway.” I waved it off and pointed to the folder. “What do you have for me?”
“The autopsy came in from the medical examiner for Lily Green. I thought you’d want to see it before I put it on Allen’s desk.”
“Yes, please.”
Allen was the officer officially assigned to Lily Green’s death, though he hadn’t seemed to mind my interference. In a way, he’d almost seemed relieved when I’d told him I was going to be taking an active role. And when I’d offered to tell Melina Green of her daughter’s death, he’d instantly agreed.
Janice handed over the report, then went through a short list of items that needed to be addressed. Afterward, she left me to the autopsy.
It was almost exactly as I’d anticipated. The cause of death was extreme bodily trauma due to a fall. There’d been no substances in her blood. No marks or wounds beyond those caused by the impact.
The only note of interest was Lily’s sexual activity. The examiner noted that she’d likely had sex within twenty-four hours prior to her death because there’d been lubricant residue on her skin, though no semen.
“Huh.” I pulled out my notepad for the case, flipping through my notes. Melina had told me that Lily hadn’t had a boyfriend when I’d asked.
Maybe she hadn’t known? If Lily had been seeing someone, would her boyfriend have insight into her mental state? Had he been with her before her death, driving her car? Had he taken her to those deserted gravel roads along the Eden’s ranch?
As much as I wanted to hunt down answers to those questions, they’d have to wait. My day was filled with meetings and phone calls. Another unexpected side effect from being the chief. I hadn’t expected the meetings, and transitioning from investigations to management was going to take some getting used to.
Whatever grace the staff and community had given me during my first week was gone, because the administrative work came in a flood.
Finally, around four o’clock, I hit my first lull of the day. My calendar was clear until tomorrow, and though there were emails to return, I needed to get away from this desk. So I grabbed my purse and escaped the station.
The route to Melina Green’s house was familiar, and when I parked in front of her white picket fence, she was kneeling on the grass beside a flower bed.
“Afternoon,” I called.
She looked over her shoulder, her blond hair tied in a braid beneath a straw hat. She gave me a shaky smile and stood, coming over as I opened her gate. “Hi, Winnie.”
“How are you?” I opened my arms and she walked right into my embrace.
“Minute by minute. That’s what you told me, right?” “Minute by minute.”
It was something Poppy had told me after my parents had died. I’d asked her how to deal with the sort of pain that tore through every heartbeat.
“What are you working on?” I asked, letting her go.
“Weeding. I was tempted to stay in my pajamas all day but . . .” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “I need to do something, anything, but cry.”
“I can understand that. Why don’t you put me to work?”
We spent the next thirty minutes cleaning two flower beds. The afternoon sun was hot on my black shirt, but I sat beside Melina, plucking
shoots of grass and baby thistles as sweat dampened my brow. “I need to ask you a question about Lily. Would you mind?”
“No.” She shook her head, her eyes focused on the trowel in her hand and the weeds she chopped at the root. The blade sank into the earth with a gritty slice. She’d get through this loss by keeping busy. I’d done the same. Because when you were busy, there was less time to think. Less time to hurt.
Until the night, when the memories crept into your sleep.
“You said she didn’t have a boyfriend. But could she have been seeing someone new? Maybe a first or second date with a guy?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“I’m just trying to find out who she spent time with.” Normally I believed in full transparency, but until I had more answers about Lily and whoever she’d been with before her death, I didn’t want to leave Melina with unanswered questions.
“Lily liked to head downtown on Friday and Saturday nights with her friends. They usually met up at one of the bars. I always felt like I was walking a fine line. She lived here and I loved that she lived here. But she was an adult, so I tried to keep my mouth shut about the partying.”
If Lily was like most twenty-one-year-old women, she’d probably met a guy at the bar. Hell, I was thirty and had done the same with Griffin.
“I didn’t ask too many questions,” Melina continued. “I tried not to pester her about coming home before two. Maybe that was my mistake. But she was young and once, a long time ago, I was young too.”
The tears began to fall and Melina did her best to wipe them dry with her garden gloves, leaving streaks of dirt on her cheeks.
“I, um . . .” She pulled off her gloves. “I’d better wash up.” “Of course.”
When she excused herself to go inside, I saw myself out of the yard. Any other questions would have to wait, but Melina had given me a place to
start.
I’d spoken to many of Lily’s friends but I hadn’t asked about her at the local bars. They would be my next stop. But first, before the sun went down, I wanted to pay Indigo Ridge one more visit.
Leaving Melina’s house, I drove toward the mountains, navigating the gravel path to Indigo Ridge. My shoes weren’t the best for hiking, but I parked at the base of the trail and started my climb anyway. Step by step, I made my way up the dirt path. I was panting and sticky by the time I reached the top. The breeze that threaded around the rocks cooled the sweat between my shoulder blades.
Inching to the edge of the trail, I leaned forward to stare over the cliff. Her body wasn’t on the jagged rocks below, but I could still picture it there. Her blond hair. That blood-soaked dress.
One jump. One step. That was all it would take. One trip. One fall. And a life shattered.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A hand clamped over my elbow and dragged me away from the edge.
I whirled around, my heart in my throat as I threw a fist toward Griffin’s nose. I managed to stop the punch before it landed, but just barely. My knuckles grazed his skin and his eyes widened that I’d moved that fast.
“Jesus, Winn.” He released my elbow. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Me? What the fuck is wrong with you? You scared the shit out of me. I could have fallen.”
“Then don’t stand so goddamn close to the edge,” he bellowed, dragging a hand through that thick hair. “Fuck. We don’t need you having an accident.”
“This should be blocked off,” I barked, pressing a hand to my thrashing heart.
“That’s what I’m doing here.” He jerked his thumb toward the trail. “I came up here to build a fence along the path and spotted your rig. Followed you up here just in time to see you leaning over the edge.”
I frowned up at his scowl. “I was just looking.”
“Look from back here.” He grabbed my arm again, hauling me back against him. “I can’t find your body down there too.”
The plea in his blue gaze, the fear in his expression, chased away any anger, and my shoulders slumped. “Okay. Sorry.”
He blew out a long breath, shaking away his frustration. “It’s all right.
Why are you looking?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I know you think it was suicide. I don’t even know what to think myself, I just . . . something feels off. And I need to figure out what. For Lily. For her mother. Sometimes when I can’t make sense of something, I start at the end and work my way backward to the beginning.”
So I’d stand here until I could retrace her steps.
Which was what I did. I stood there, staring out to the nothing beyond the trail.
Griffin stood beside me, unspeaking. Unmoving. He simply stood at my side while I thought.
She’d come up here, terrified. Desperate. Likely alone. I took one step closer to the edge.
Griffin grabbed my hand, holding it tight.
I let him be my tether as I glanced over the cliff, putting myself in Lily’s place.
She’d had a good job. She’d had loving parents. She’d had friends in Quincy. Something had pushed her over this edge.
“A broken heart?”
“What?” Griffin asked, pulling me away from the edge once more.
“Nothing,” I muttered. The autopsy was confidential, and Griffin hadn’t earned the details. “I’d like to know what Lily was doing up to the time of her death. If she’d been hanging out with friends. A boyfriend. Where would someone her age hang out on a Sunday night?”
“Willie’s,” he answered.
“Would you have noticed her if she’d come in?” “You and I were the only people there.”
“Anywhere else?”
He rubbed that strong jaw. “The bars downtown. The younger crowd usually hangs there in the summers with the tourists. And you’re in luck.”
“Am I? Why?”
He took my arm, tugging me yet another step away from the cliff. “I was just thinking about heading downtown myself.”
“Oh, were you?” I raised my eyebrows. “I thought you were going to put up a fence on this trail.”
“Change of plan.”
