Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
They separated and West held out his hand to me, not missing the ring on my finger or my new clothes. Weston Garfield never missed much. “Hope, thank you for coming. Please, sit.”
He gestured to the seats in front of his desk, smiling when I handed him his coffee and cookie. “For me? From Sweetheart?”
“Hope needed a latte and a toffee-chip cookie. We asked Daisy what you liked,” Griffen said, taking the last bite of his own cookie.
“Thanks. You have no idea how much I needed this.” West took a sip of his Americano and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “The morning has been a week long already.”
“Everything okay?”
“Just life,” West said, rolling back his shoulders. “Car accident. Two break-ins. A tourist claims his room at the Inn was robbed.”
Griffen straightened in his chair. “Was it? Is there a problem with break-ins at the Inn?”
“Not until recently, but you might want to talk to Royal and Tenn about that.” West broke off a piece of his cookie and looked deliberately from Griffen to me and back again, stopping for another glance at the ring on my finger. “Are the rumors true? You two are married?”
“They’re true.” Griffen reached over to take my hand in his. West stared at both of us for a long moment, and I knew that he knew our marriage had to do with Prentice and not anything between the two of us.
I pulled my hand from Griffen’s and broke off a piece of my own cookie. I didn’t mind the fiction of our whirlwind courtship and marriage with the rest of the town, but West was smart and he wasn’t interested in gossip. He was interested in the truth. I didn’t want to talk about the truth.
“Hope? Are you good?”
Why did people keep asking me that? Did I seem that helpless? “I’m great, West.”
His eyes rested on my hair, then my face for a moment too long before his lips curved into a smile. “I can see that.”
Making a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, Griffen reached out and took my hand again, holding it tightly in his. Leaning forward, angling his shoulder closer to me he said, “You don’t need to look out for Hope, Weston. That’s my job.”
West nodded like he’d acknowledged some message from Griffen in man code that I’d completely missed. “I can see that, too. You’re going to want to keep an eye on her. We have your brother in jail, but that doesn’t change the fact that your father was shot in the head in his own home in broad daylight.”
“You don’t think Ford did it?” Griffen asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Griffen. What matters is the evidence. It all points at Ford. We have numerous public arguments in the weeks leading up to Prentice’s murder. Open threats to disinherit Ford and cut him out of the family businesses. Ford’s car seen leaving the Manor at high speed right around the coroner’s estimated time of death.
“The murder weapon was found in Ford’s closet with his fingerprints on it. Footprints from his shoes were in the flowerbeds outside the sunroom by the office. We think he parked in front and then came in through the French doors to take Prentice by surprise.”
“And there’s nothing else? Nothing to show that someone else could have been in the house?”
“Nothing we’ve been able to find. I swear to you, Griffen, I went over that house and the grounds with a fine-tooth comb. Ford doesn’t have an alibi. Do I think he walked in the house and shot your father in the head? No, I don’t. I just can’t see it. The list of people happy to see your father dead is so fucking long I don’t know where to start. But the truth is I don’t have to because we have the murder weapon and it was in your brother’s possession.”
“What does Ford say?”
“You haven’t seen him yet?”
“We’re meeting up with Cole in half an hour to head out to the county jail.”
“Have you seen him since—”
“Nope.”
West the Police Chief disappeared and Griffen’s old friend took his place. He shook his head in sympathy. “Sorry, man. It’s good to have you back in town, but this is a bitch of a situation to walk into. I wish I could help, but my hands are tied. I won’t compromise the evidence. Not even for an old friend.”
Griffen let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t ask.”
I was relieved to see West give a nod of understanding before changing the subject.
“I know you left this town in the dust, but I kept an eye out. I know who you used to work for. Did a little digging. Your army record has some interesting blank spots. Considering all that and what happened to your father, I’m assuming you have plans for a security upgrade at the Manor.”