Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
This was where the magic happened. In a square metal frame building with a concrete floor sat two shiny stainless-steel vats that were Avery’s pride and joy. The air was scented with hops and malt, every inch so clean I bet the health inspector loved her. Nothing looked out of place until I got to Avery’s office. There, it looked like a bomb had gone off. My first instinct said the place had been ransacked, but just as I was about to call out for Avery, I gave the space a slower once-over and saw a discordant sense of order among the stacks of papers and piles of boxes. It could have been ransacked, or this could have been the way Avery had left it.
Leaving her office, I checked the restrooms to verify that the building was empty, and I went out the front door. Avery paced in the parking lot, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip, her dark brow pulled together in worry.
“What did you find? Is everything okay?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I can’t see any damage done. It doesn’t look like anything’s missing, and there wasn’t anyone in there. I want to go through it with you to see if you spot anything out of place.”
We retraced my steps more slowly than I had before; her anxious eyes double-checking every detail. “Everything looks fine in here,” she muttered. “I called Cammie, and she’s absolutely sure she locked the door last night. She said she remembered because she left her phone inside and had to get the keys back out to lock up after she got it. She said she always checks to make sure it’s locked after she turns the bolt.”
“Who else has the keys? Did you give one to Dave?” I asked, thinking of her other part-time employee as I followed her through the brewery to her office.
“Only me and Cammie. Dave wasn’t working yesterday,” she answered absently, her voice fading away as we entered her office, her eyes narrowing on the stacks of papers and files. She didn’t react to the mess, telling me that the organized chaos was business as usual. “Everything looks fine. I—” She cut off as she looked at the center drawer of her desk. It wasn’t open, but it was ajar just enough that I could see it hadn’t been locked.
Avery shook her head, staring down at it. “I locked that drawer, West. I always lock it.”
She yanked the drawer open, sending a pen and two pencils rolling wildly. I saw a few markers and a notepad. That was it.
“Avery, what was in there?” I asked.
“Fuck,” she said, crouching to look in the back of the drawer. Reaching in, her hand slid across the wood, fingers seeking and coming up with nothing.
“Ave, what’s missing?” I pressed, but she didn’t answer.
“Oh, goddammit,” she turned around, her eyes wildly skating over the piles of papers and boxes, clearly looking for something.
“Avery, stop. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.” I closed a hand over her shoulder and forced her to look at me.
“I only had two things in that drawer, West. The new recipe I’ve been working on for our Halloween beer, and—” Avery bit her lip, her dark gaze skating away from mine.
“And what? What else was in there?” I demanded, knowing I didn’t want to hear the answer.
“My research file,” she gritted out, still not meeting my eyes.
“Research file on what?” I asked slowly, though my gut already knew the answer.
“On the necklace Quinn found in Dad’s cabin,” she forced out, jerking her shoulder free of my grip.
“Are you kidding me?” I exploded. I tried to keep things professional with people I was supposed to protect, but Avery was Griffen’s sister—as good as family—and she was playing with fire. “What are you thinking? Whoever murdered your father is still out there. And that necklace is a dead end.”
“You don’t know that! It’s the only clue we have,” she fired back, her dark eyes blazing with fury.
I wanted to argue with her. She didn’t belong anywhere near that necklace or her father’s case. Ford had been poking around in their father’s business, and he’d ended up framed for murder.
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. “I’m going to find out who left the necklace in the cabin.”
“The fuck you are!” I shot back. “Have you talked to Griffen about this? Or Ford?”
“I talked to Sterling,” she said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “And Quinn.”
“Oh great. Two people with even less experience in investigations than you. This isn’t a game. Or did you forget that someone tried to kill Ford in prison, and before that, they came after Griffen, and they did kill Vanessa when she threatened to spill what she knew?”
Her face paled, but she didn’t lower that stubborn chin. I stared down into the open drawer, trying to think like a cop and not a surrogate older brother. “Avery, we’ll talk about you pursuing your father’s killer on your own later—and we’re definitely going to talk about it. But for now, let’s focus on your break-in. I’m going to check the door and your desk for fingerprints. But I need you to think—whoever got in here took the recipe and your file on the necklace. Any chance the same person could want both?”