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 turned onto the long drive to Heartstone Manor. Thanks to Hawk, it had changed in the last few years. Prentice, for reasons unknown, had neglected Heartstone Manor in the two years before he died, including the long drive in from the main road. When Griffen came home after Prentice’s death, it had been choked with weeds, crumbling potholes dotting the asphalt, not the driveway you’d expect to lead to a grand estate.
Hawk had been busy keeping the Sawyers alive, but he’d found time to clean the place up. It had seemed odd at first, Griffen’s security expert doubling as the groundskeeper. But I’d learned Hawk loved few things more than getting his hands in the dirt. One of those things was Quinn, Griffen and Avery’s sister. I had a feeling that if we ever found Prentice’s killer and things calmed down, Heartstone would have gardens that would be the envy of everyone in Western North Carolina. Someday. But Heartstone’s grounds were no longer choked by weeds, and that was progress.
We emerged from the tree-lined drive to the courtyard in front of the big house. I wasn’t expecting to see two cars parked in front, especially not cars I recognized.
“Who’s here?” Avery asked, leaning forward. “Are those Edgar and Harvey’s cars?”
Edgar was Griffen’s wife’s uncle and one of Prentice’s former business partners. “Do they come to dinner often?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting confirmation anyway.
“Sometimes on Sundays, you know, for family dinner,” Avery said, squinting at the two cars as I pulled up behind them and put the SUV in park. “But it’s not Sunday.” A thought occurred to her, and she straightened, eyes widening. “It’s not Sunday, is it?”
“No, it’s Tuesday,” I confirmed with a smile.
“That’s what I thought, but sometimes the calendar gets away from me,” she said. “If it’s not Sunday, why are they here?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But how would you feel about taking a rain check on that barbecue?”
“Done,” Avery agreed. “I want to know what’s going on. But first, change of clothes.”
I followed her up the front steps and opened the door. “I’ll go see if I can find Griffen.”
She nodded, jogging up the stairs with a wave. My eyes followed her, lingering on the flex of her legs and her round ass. Looked like I was going to get to see inside Avery’s bedroom. Not that I’d be paying much attention to the decor. Not if I had her all to myself.
The front hall was empty. I could hear movement in the dining room to my left, but not voices—probably Savannah or one of the day maids, Kitty or April, getting the table ready for dinner. In years past, and probably still on Sundays, there would have been a cocktail hour before the meal. But the current crop of Sawyers weren’t big drinkers in general, and most of them had busy days—no time to hang around socializing before dinner.
I found Griffen in his office behind his desk, baby Stella strapped to his chest in a carrier.
“Hey,” he said with a smile as I walked in after dropping a quick knock on the open door. “What are you doing here?” His eyebrows drew together. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s great.” I dropped into the chair in front of his desk. “Avery walked into a tray full of beer. We were going to head out for dinner after she changed, but...” I raised an eyebrow. “Edgar and Harvey are here.”
Griffen let out a grunt and nodded. “They’re with Hope right now. Edgar was interested in those diaries from the housekeeper around the turn of the century that she and Savannah found. Harvey tagged along. They’ll be back.”
“Turn of the century diaries?” I asked. Not that it was my business, but I’m the police chief. It’s my job to be a nosy fucker. And while I didn’t have anything concrete on either of them, I didn’t fully trust Edgar or Harvey. Edgar, because he’d been up to his nose with Prentice and, to a degree, my father on business dealings that, while they might be legal, weren’t what I’d consider above board. And Harvey... Harvey, for a lot of reasons, was primarily at the top of the list for letting the necklace get stolen and not calling me about it.
“I think the diaries were a bonus,” Griffen said, stroking Stella’s back through the carrier. “They both just showed up. Apparently, they called Finn to make sure there was enough and said they’d see us at 6 p.m.”
“Weird.”
“Yep.” Griffen closed his laptop, leaning back in his desk chair. “Any movement in Sterling and Avery’s investigation?”
“Actually, yes. Hawk’s friend dug up the designer’s address.”
“Have you checked it out yet?”
“Tomorrow,” I said. “Avery couldn’t get away today, and neither could I. But I’ve got double coverage tomorrow, so I should be good to play hooky for a few hours.”