Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Congratulations,” I said.
The waitress left to put in our order.
“So, you made detective?” Dillon asked.
I began at the beginning. “Angie left me.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Dillon said.
“Don’t be.” I shook my head. “It was a mess. The whole marriage was a mistake. I’m much better off without her.”
He nodded.
“You know, I got to thinking that Nashville wasn’t where I needed to be. I wanted something new, something slower.”
“I’ve been there,” Dillon agreed, taking a sip of his drink.
“So, I remembered that you said your uncle had a cabin up here. When I looked up Singer’s Ridge, I saw there was an opening on the police force.” My beer arrived, and I nodded thanks to the waitress. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Dillon drank thoughtfully for a moment. “A couple years ago, I probably wouldn’t have wanted the reminder of my old life. But things are different now. Welcome to town.”
I sat back, thinking about all I had seen in this little village. As a police officer, I was immediately treated to the negative side of life in Singer’s Ridge. I had met the drug users. And I felt like I knew each of the four people who had overdosed. I knew somewhere one of the small-town citizens was dealing in a drug so deadly that it had hardcore crystal meth users like Earl Petty turned off.
There was something else, though. When I had been in the grocery store, picking up lunch and a few snacks for the hotel room, I noticed a woman. She had been checking me out, I was sure of it. I saw her looking as I walked over to the bakery section. I took a look of my own while she was pretending to be focused on apples, and she was a beauty.
Long blonde hair fashionably styled in loose waves framed a fresh, honest face. I could clearly see that she took care of herself. Her shirt hit right at her navel, showing off the tiniest sliver of creamy skin above her jeans. I wondered what it would be like to slide my hand across that navel, to slip the shirt above her head and uncover the succulent breasts I could see peeking through the fabric.
I pushed the thoughts away. There was no need to get turned on in the bar, sitting across the table from my old friend. I wondered if I was ever going to see her again. In a town this size, I thought my chances were good. Things were looking up. I had a job, and I would soon have a cabin.
The waitress arrived with my drink.
“I’m buying a cabin,” I said, taking a sip.
“Really? Where?” he asked.
“It’s north of town, off Miller Road.”
“My cabin’s up that way,” Dillon said. “Looks like we’re gonna be neighbors.” He held his mug out, and I tapped it with my own.
I wanted to ask him about the girl in the grocery store, but I didn’t have a lot to go on. I decided to do all my grocery shopping at that same time of day, same day of the week, just in case I ran into her again. By the time we called it quits for the night, I was beat. I had another full day of work in front of me, so I tipped the waitress and headed back to the hotel room. I fell asleep thinking about cabins and criminals, and thankfully they left no room for memories of my soon-to-be ex-wife.
4
LINDSEY
It was my first day back at work after a blissful vacation. I didn’t go anywhere but spent the time relaxing and getting settled into my cabin. I clocked in and saw some of my regulars. They were all happy I had returned, some with horror stories about having to wait a full week to get their hair done.
Ava, my best work friend, clocked in at 11:00, and we spent the next three hours chatting over the heads of our clients.
“I can’t believe you’re renting a cabin,” Ava said, drawing her comb through a lady’s hair.
“It’s wonderful,” I said, spritzing my client with mist to tame flyaway curls.
“Aren’t you scared?” Ava asked.
“Not at all.”
“But what about bears?” Ava shuddered.
“It’s perfectly safe,” I assured her.
The door opened, and in walked Macy Ford, without her little ones.
“Hi, Macy,” I said, “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Take your time.” Macy chose a magazine and sat down in the waiting area.
I finished up with my client and turned her to face the mirror.
“Beautiful as always,” the older woman said, gingerly touching her locks.
I helped her take the plastic bib off and climb out of the chair.
“I’ll see you next month?” I asked as we moved toward the door.
“Wednesday at eleven,” she said with a smile.
“Wednesday at eleven,” I confirmed. I opened the door for her and gave her time to exit the shop. Once that was done, I turned my attention to Macy. “Thanks for coming in.”