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)
I tapped the green circle on the screen. “Avery, what’s up?”
“West.” She sounded breathless. “I just got to the brewery, and the taproom door is open.”
“Who worked last night?” I asked, standing and grabbing my keys. “Cammie?”
“Yeah, she’s never forgotten to lock the door.”
“Have you talked to her since?” I asked, closing my office door behind me. If it were anyone else, my mind would have stuck on a simple B&E, but Avery was a Sawyer. Their lives had been complicated since Prentice was killed. Murder. Sabotage. I wouldn’t make assumptions until I saw what was going on.
“No. Do you think...?” She cut off, and I could feel her tension in the quick intake of breath in my ear.
“We don’t know anything yet, Avery,” I said, hoping she wasn’t going to lose her cool. “I’m just gathering information. Did you go in? Did you touch the door?”
“No,” she said, the word coming out sharp and quick. She stopped and drew in a slow breath. When she spoke again, she was calmer. “I didn’t touch the door or go in. I saw it was open. I thought I should call you first.”
“Smart,” I said. “Where are you right now?”
“At the back door of the brewery by my car.”
“Go to the front, to the street where you’re in plain view. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t go inside.”
“I won’t,” she said. “Thanks, West.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said. “I’ll meet you out front.” I was already striding out of my office. At the dispatch desk, Amanda waved at me.
“Headed to the brewery,” I called out. “Call me on my cell if you need me.”
“Avery okay?” she asked.
“Yep,” I answered, not wanting to share details I didn’t have.
I could have walked down Main Street to get to her. The distance between the police station and Sawyers Bend Brewing wasn’t that far, but I hadn’t liked the fear I’d heard in her voice. I didn’t want to leave her standing there alone longer than I had to.
I hopped into the Sawyers Bend Police SUV that served as my regular transportation and rubbed the heel of my palm against my chest. Concern was usually the last thing I felt for Avery. After growing up with Griffen, it was a habit to keep an eye on his sisters. I worried about Quinn who led strangers on hikes in the mountains, about Sterling who had been arrested for public intoxication more than once before she cleaned up her act, about Parker when she’d married that dickhead Tyler and moved to New York.
Avery always had her feet on the ground and her head on her shoulders. She kept to herself and didn’t start drama. While she had a temper—I’d seen it fly at Griffen more than once—it never led her into trouble that brought her into my path. She was smart and self-sufficient.
She stood in front of her brewery wearing a red Sawyers Bend Brewing polo shirt, her sleek dark hair pulled back in a braid, her dark eyes worried. Tall, with milky skin set off by dark brows and dark hair, and a wide, expressive mouth that I tried not to think about, she was more than beautiful. Avery Sawyer packed a punch I don’t think she was aware of. That was fine with me. She was eight years my junior and my best friend’s sister. Plenty of reason to remember she was one of my citizens, and I was here on business.
“Hey,” I said as I got out of my vehicle. “Let’s go see what’s going on.” No light shone from inside the taproom. “Wait here.”
Not wanting to alarm Avery further, I decided against pulling my sidearm just yet. I nudged open the door with my shoulder while glancing back at Avery, following just behind me.
“Stay out here,” I ordered, shaking my head firmly at the protest on her face. “Don’t make me lock you in the back of the SUV.”
“Fine,” she huffed and shoved her hands into her pockets before taking a step back.
With that settled, I turned my attention back to what awaited in the taproom. Flicking on the lights, I stood in the doorway and studied the familiar space.
Avery’s place was small, but her beer was some of the best I’d ever had, which was saying something considering it was hard to turn around in this part of the country without tripping over a great brewery. Before she took it over, her place had been a bar and pool hall. She’d stripped the building back to bare bones and added details to bring out the simple post and beam construction. It reminded me of a cabin in the fall, all warm wood and stone, accented with bright colors.
I walked through the taproom, taking in the clean tables, chairs stacked upside down, and the floor freshly washed before Cammie had closed up the night before. No surprises here, and no clue who had left the front door ajar. I crossed to the door beside the bar. Pushing it open, I entered another world.