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)
My phone rang. I looked down to see Avery’s name on the screen. I thought for a second before I picked up.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“On my way back,” I replied.
She was quiet, her breathing the only sound on the line. Finally, she said, “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I answered. “Are you at the brewery?”
“In my office,” she said.
“I’ll be there in half an hour. We need to talk.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice hesitant. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yep, see you soon,” I said, hanging up.
I blinked hard into the bright afternoon sun. The world went on. Leaves on the trees were vibrant, and tourists filled the roads. It was fall in the mountains, a time for family and fun, and Anna Novak was going to miss all of it because someone, maybe the same someone who’d murdered Prentice Sawyer, had decided she was in the way and that stealing her life was the best way to neutralize her. Someone willing to kill to keep their secret wouldn’t balk at killing again.
The drive back through town had me gritting my teeth at the sidewalks clogged with tourists wandering into the street. Maybe we should start giving tickets for jaywalking again, I thought, with a cranky sense of satisfaction. See how they’d feel about wandering in front of a car then. I doubted I’d do it. Tourist season kept the lights on through the winter for a lot of businesses. I didn’t want to scare them off with petty tickets, as annoying as they were. I crawled through town, tapping the brakes, silently urging the drivers ahead of me to just go, damn it, until I got to the other side of town and flicked on my blinker to pull into Avery’s brewery.
I went in through the side, not in the mood to play friendly police chief with any locals in the taproom. Avery looked up from her desk when I walked in, her eyes worried.
“Hey,” she said. “Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head and closed the door behind me.
“She’s dead?” Avery asked.
I could tell she knew the answer. She had eyes, had seen most of what I’d seen. But she needed to hear it.
“Very,” I said. I wanted to give her the words, if only to scare her off her pursuit, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put those pictures in her head. Bad enough they were in mine. I settled for, “She was stabbed at least twenty times. She bled out on her kitchen floor.”
“You said she fought.” Avery’s voice was thin, as if she couldn’t force enough air through her throat.
“She did,” I agreed. “Based on what we saw in there, she fought like hell. Sometimes it’s not enough.”
“Fuck,” Avery said, sinking into her seat. “Fuck.” She jolted and looked up. “This is our fault. Sterling and mine. We did this.”
“No. I told you, Avery. You didn’t do this. You didn’t stab her. You’re not responsible.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. “Maybe not the way you mean, but if we’d left this alone... If she had the information we were looking for, and someone else knew it...”
“Avery,” I said. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but I couldn’t.
Had she or Sterling killed Anna Novak? No, absolutely not. Were they responsible for her death? Also no. The person responsible for her death was the one who’d stabbed her. Had their investigation reminded the killer that Anna Novak was a loose end? That was very possible. I didn’t want to tell Avery that. I didn’t want to see the weight on her soul, but I had to. Because what I really didn’t want was to see her dead.
“Avery,” I said, leaning against the closed door and crossing my arms over my chest. “You and Sterling have to walk away from this.”
“What?” Avery’s head snapped up. “No, obviously we were on the right track.”
“Avery,” I snapped. “A woman is dead.”
“You just said that’s not my fault,” Avery said, brushing her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand.
“And it’s not,” I agreed. “It’s not your fault.”
“But?” she pressed.
I thought about my words, thought about how to make her understand. “It’s possible that the person you’re looking for, the person who killed your father, is also the person who killed Anna Novak. Especially if she was the jeweler who made that necklace. There was no evidence of a search or a robbery. As far as we can tell, the only reason the killer was there was to take her life.”
“To shut her up,” Avery said.
“That seems likely. People know you and Sterling are looking for your father’s killer. They know you’re looking for evidence. Someone stole that file out of your desk. Someone attacked you with a knife,” I reminded her.
“That was about Ford,” she protested, shaking her head.