Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sawyer groaned as he peeled himself off the couch, his body stiff from another night of restless sleep. The clock on the wall read 7:42 AM, and he groaned. Goddamn it. He was late.

He rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the kitchen, the tile cool against his bare feet. He fumbled with the coffee pot, his fingers worked on autopilot scooping coffee grounds and pouring water into the machine. As it sputtered to life, filling the room with the rich aroma of brewing coffee, Sawyer leaned heavily on the counter.

Sunlight streamed in through the window over the sink and he closed his eyes against the glare, inhaling deeply as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

His mind raced, circling around the same frustrating thoughts that had kept him up all night. The murder investigation was going nowhere. Weeks of tireless work had yielded no substantial leads, and his lack of sleep only fueled his mounting frustration.

The coffee pot sputtered as it finished its cycle, and he grabbed a mug from the cabinet, then poured himself a generous portion of the life-saving brew. He took a sip as he moved across the room, the bitter warmth providing a momentary comfort. But his solace was short-lived.

As he gazed out the back door, a glimmer on the ground caught his eye. The patio was soaked, water pooling around the edges. He frowned. It hadn't rained last night.

"What the hell?"

Setting his mug down on the counter with a soft clink, Sawyer pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the wet patio. His gaze followed the trail of water to Brynlee’s side of the yard, which was equally saturated. The sight of the hose still trickling water made his blood boil.

Brynlee.

She must have forgotten to turn it off after watering her flowers last night.

He marched over to the hose, his feet squelching in the wet grass. Water and mud splashed up, splattering his sweats as he reached down and twisted the nozzle shut. With the hose no longer dribbling, he turned his attention to Brynlee’s side of the duplex. Her back door was only a few steps away, and he covered the distance quickly, each step fueled by his aggravation.

Sawyer pounded on the door with the side of his fist. “Brynlee! Open up!"

From inside, he could hear the muffled sounds of her footsteps as she entered the kitchen and strode toward the back door. After a moment, Brynlee’s face appeared in the window, her hair pulled back in a large clip, her makeup half-done.

She yanked open the door, her face pulled into an expression of annoyance. "Sawyer, what the hell?"

"Did you forget to turn off the hose last night?" he snapped. "My backyard looks like a fucking lake!”

She looked past him, her expression shifting from annoyance to confusion. "I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Bullshit," he retorted. “I saw you out here last night watering the flowers.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you were watching me, then you saw me put the hose away.”

“I shouldn’t have to babysit you and make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to,” he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed. "I said it wasn’t me. Maybe you should check your own side before blaming me."

Their argument escalated, voices rising with every pointed barb they exchanged. Sawyer's frustration from the case and lack of sleep spilled over, mixing with his irritation at the morning’s discovery. “Goddamn it! Could you just take responsibility for once?”

“I don't know what happened, but I didn't do this,” she said stiffly. “I watered my plants last night, then hung it up like I always do.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes. “How the hell you run a business is beyond me. Oh, wait.”

He gave an abbreviated laugh. “Look how that turned out. No wonder you're dealing with flooding at the salon—you just did the same thing here!”

She jerked back at his words, the blood draining from her face. Shit. He probably shouldn't have said that. “Bryn?—”

“Fuck you, Sawyer.” She turned on a heel, ignoring him completely. He lunged forward, grabbing for the door handle.

“Wait, I—” He yanked his hand back just before the door slammed shut in the space where his fingers had been just seconds before. He growled. Damn pain in the ass woman.

Sawyer's fists clenched as he watched Brynlee retreat into her duplex, her parting words echoing in his mind. The argument had left him seething, yet guilt gnawed at him too. He knew he'd been too harsh, his exhaustion and frustration from the case spilling over into their spat. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a pale light over the damp yard, and he could see Brynlee through the window, frantically getting ready for work.

He slogged through the muddy yard and reached the front of the house just as she was locking the front door. She glanced his way for a fraction of a second before hopping off the stoop and striding toward her car.

"Bryn, wait!" he called out, his voice carrying in the quiet of early morning.

She didn't stop, her movements stiff and resolute. She pulled open the car door and climbed inside, not once glancing in his direction.

"Brynlee, just hold on a second!"

She ignored him, fumbling with her keys, and a moment later the engine roared to life. He reached the driver's side window, knocking on it insistently. "Brynlee, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

She finally turned to look at him, her blue eyes frigid. “You’ve made your point. Whatever it was, I’m sure it was my fault. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure I don't make a mess anymore.”

“Bryn—”

“I don't like being your neighbor any more than you like living next to me. Just go away, Sawyer, and leave me the hell alone. "

Her words stung, but before he could respond, she put the car in gear. "Brynlee. Goddamn it, wait!"

He called out for her one last time, but she threw the car into gear and backed out of the driveway, the tires splashing through the lingering puddles.

Sawyer stood there, a mix of regret and irritation churning inside him as he watched her go. The car approached the intersection at the end of the road, and he waited for the glow of red tail lights to appear. They never did.

His heart lurched as he watched the car glided straight through the intersection, and the sound that followed was a horrendous symphony of screeching metal and breaking glass.