Sawmill Springs
Page 1
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Table of Contents
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Gerri Hill
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bella Books
Synopsis
Homicide detective Mandi Murphy had seen enough bloodshed on the streets of Houston to last a lifetime. After a botched drug bust left a friend dead, she wanted out of the city. Peaceful little Sawmill Springs seemed like the perfect spot to start over. Six weeks on patrol proved the town to be as quiet and serene as she’d imagined.
When things soured between FBI agent Kayla Dixon and her lover, she was ready for a change from the fast paced life she was living. Her father, the Police Chief in Sawmill Springs, offered her a job and she decided a change of pace was just what she needed. Her wish for slow and peaceful didn’t materialize, however, as mere hours after she starts her first shift, a prominent citizen is gunned down.
The two women are thrust together to solve the murder and return Sawmill Springs to the sleepy small town the residents expect. As the investigation grows, so does their attraction. There’s just one problem—Murphy thinks Kayla is straight. Kayla admits to a failed marriage when she was eighteen and an ambiguous affair with another FBI agent convinces Murphy to steer clear of her. Kayla’s innocent flirting is met with skepticism and doubt…and temptation.
Another murder not only strengthens their bond as partners but has them fighting to escape the clutches of a murderer. No longer able to ignore the budding attraction between them, they must decide if they are willing to start over…this time, together.
Copyright © 2017 by Gerri Hill
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2017
eBook released 2017
Editor: Medora MacDougall
Cover Designer: Sandy Knowles
ISBN: 978-1-59493-550-3
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated
Other Bella Books by Gerri Hill
Angel Fire
Artist’s Dream
At Seventeen
Behind the Pine Curtain
Chasing a Brighter Blue
The Cottage
Coyote Sky
Dawn of Change
Devil’s Rock
Gulf Breeze
Hell’s Highway
Hunter’s Way
In the Name of the Father
Keepers of the Cave
The Killing Room
Love Waits
The Midnight Moon
No Strings
One Summer Night
Paradox Valley
Partners
Pelican’s Landing
The Rainbow Cedar
The Roundabout
The Scorpion
Sierra City
Snow Falls
Storms
The Target
Weeping Walls
About the Author
Gerri Hill has thirty-one published works, including the 2014 GCLS winner The Midnight Moon, 2011, 2012 and 2013 winners Devil’s Rock, Hell’s Highway and Snow Falls, and the 2009 GCLS winner Partners, the last book in the popular Hunter Series, as well as the 2013 Lambda finalist At Seventeen. Gerri lives in south-central Texas, only a few hours from the Gulf Coast, a place that has inspired many of her books. With her partner, Diane, they share their life with two Australian shepherds—Casey and Cooper—and a couple of furry felines. For more, visit her website at gerrihill.com.
Chapter One
“So, Murphy, what are you doing here, anyway?”
Mandi Murphy raised the beer bottle to her lips, pausing before drinking. The last of the evening sun was still visible through the windows and in a corner, she noticed a crack running diagonally across the glass in one of the panes. “Here?”
“Not here at Cross Roads Tavern. Here…in town.”
Murphy leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. She’d been in town over a month already…here in tiny Sawmill Springs. Lori, Chief Dixon’s admin—after spending the first several weeks asking subtle questions—had finally talked her into a drink at the local beer joint. Murphy had deflected both personal and professional questions, choosing instead to fade into the background as much as possible and just do her job. Of course, after a fifteen-year career in Houston—working in both vice and homicide—she was having a hard time adjusting to riding in a patrol vehicle all day. Lori, however, was staring at her questioningly, and Murphy knew she had to give her something.
“It…it had been a hell of a week,” Murphy said. “A week that changed my life.”
Lori leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I’m a good listener.”
Murphy lifted an eyebrow questioningly. “Why?”
Lori shrugged. “Because you’ve been so secretive. And so has Earl,” she said, referring to Chief Dixon. “Nobody knows anything about you except that you came from Houston.”
“Oh, I see. And you’ve been charged with finding out about me, huh?”
Lori smiled. “Well, I’m curious by nature and I’m a bit of a gossip. So yeah, they voted me in.” She tipped her beer bottle at her. “You’ve been here five weeks and not a peep out of you. The only thing we’ve learned is not to call you Mandi or we get the death stare.”
Murphy smiled slightly. “My mother is the only one who still dares to call me that.”
“So? Why are you here?” Lori asked again. “Why did you leave an exciting job at Houston PD to come here, of all places?”
“Exciting? Is that what you think?
”
“Compared to Sawmill Springs? Yeah. It’s a big night here when someone gets arrested for assault. The guys get all jacked up over a burglary, which might happen once a month if they’re lucky. But murder? No. Very, very rare.” She leaned forward. “You worked in homicide, Earl says. I’m sure you’ve seen your share.”
“More than my share,” she admitted.
“So why leave?”
“Like I said, it was a bad week.” She picked absently at the label on her beer bottle. “My grandmother lived with me. My dad’s mom,” she explained. “Had been with me about six months, I guess. I came home one night, found her sitting in her recliner, my cat in her lap—which really wasn’t odd. That was the same position they were in when I left.” She finished off the beer, wincing at the lukewarm temp of the last swallow. “There was this eerie stillness in the room though. It was too quiet.”
“Oh, no. She was dead?” Lori asked in a near-whisper.
Murphy nodded. “She was only eighty-one. In relatively good health too.”
“Why was she living with you if she was in good health?”
“She had a vision problem. Couldn’t drive anymore. Had a hard time in the kitchen.” She smiled. “It was weird having her there at first, you know. I guess I didn’t think I’d miss having her around.” She sighed. “That old cat missed her too, I guess. Four days after she died, I found Tuffy in his bed by the window, the sunlight on him, just like he loved.”
Lori gasped. “Oh, no. Not your cat too?”
Murphy knew Lori loved cats. She had several pictures of them on her desk. She blew out her breath, hoping she looked properly sorrowful. “Yeah, my cat wasn’t sleeping. He was dead.”
Lori covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes nearly tearing up. “Oh, my God. That’s so sad.”
“Yeah. Bad week all around.”
Lori frowned. “That’s why you left Houston? Because your grandmother and your cat died?”
Murphy brushed at the dark hair on her forehead, pushing it out of her eyes. Couldn’t she have come up with something better than that? She hated cats, for one thing. Hated the little monsters. And Nana would kill her if she knew she’d fabricated her death. As she pictured her beloved grandmother—with that old tabby cat of hers sitting in her lap—she couldn’t help but smile. Lori punched her in the arm.
“You made that story up!” she accused.
Murphy laughed quietly. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“That was so mean,” she said. “I love cats. I love grand-mothers.”
“I hate cats. I do love my grandmother though.”
“Is that your way of saying it’s none of our business why you left Houston?”
Murphy shrugged. “There were a lot of reasons,” she said evasively. Nothing she wanted to talk about, especially not with a woman she barely knew. How could Lori possibly understand?
“Okay. Fair enough. But you could lighten up a little, you know. You keep everyone at arm’s length.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be a little more open.”
“Good. Because we’re like a family here. And I’d like to include you in that too.”
Lori was probably a few years older than she was. Married, two kids. They had nothing in common, really, other than they were the only two women in the police department. It was a small town and they had a small staff. She was one of eight officers. Chief Dixon had her riding with Tim Beckman, a rather burly man who’d worked there since he was twenty-three—nearly eighteen years—and he was now pushing forty.
He’d taken her across town to the county sheriff’s department a couple of times. They also had one female on patrol—Gloria Mendez. Gloria was young and not in the least bit shy. She’d asked her out to lunch the first time they met. Nothing fancy, just a quick meal at the Arby’s near the interstate—it was Gloria’s lunch break. Four days later, they had dinner. At Gloria’s place. Chili con carne, Gloria’s grandmother’s recipe. It was delicious.
However, the conversation lagged and Murphy wondered if it was due to their nearly ten-year age difference. Even so, Gloria had made it no secret that she was interested in getting to know Murphy better…in a much more intimate way than simply dinner. Unfortunately, Murphy didn’t have the same feelings. Six months from now, she might be feeling differently. Hell, even a month from now. Right now, though, she wasn’t ready. She was still trying to ease into the town itself, which she’d found more difficult than she’d imagined.
Maybe because she was used to the city, used to the fast pace, used to being alone. When she and Sean—her partner—had ended their shift, he went home to his wife and she went home to an empty apartment. Or when she had the energy, she’d hit the local pub where most of the guys hung out. Friendly wagers on pool or darts was the norm. It got loud and rowdy sometimes, but it was all in fun…a bar full of cops trying to shake off the stress of their jobs for a few hours. Some of them, like her, were married to the job only and had no one to go home to. She’d found, though, that the job made a lousy spouse. She sighed. Maybe this time it would be different. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t be juggling open homicide investigations. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t be in the middle of an FBI sting operation. Maybe this time, no one would get killed. And who knows…maybe in a few months, she might take Gloria up on her offer of staying the night.
“I should get going,” she said. “My shift starts at six.”
“Earl still got you riding with Timmy?”
She smiled. “He’s nearly forty years old and weighs two hundred and sixty pounds. Can’t believe everyone calls him Timmy.”
“Oh, he’s a big teddy bear, that’s all he is.”
She nodded. “Yeah, he’s okay. And I’ve got one more week with him, and then I switch to nights.”
“I’ve been here six years now and I still have a hard time keeping up with the schedules,” Lori said. “Ten-hour shifts, three days on then two off, then two on and three off. I finally get them down, then you switch to nights and I’m all mixed up again.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” she said. “If I was married and had a family, it would probably suck.” Lori eyed her for a second and Murphy knew what question was coming next.
“You ever been married?”
“Are you fishing for more gossip?”
“I suppose it’s nobody’s business, but we are a small staff.” Lori smiled. “And we’re family and family tends to gossip about one another.”
“And what conclusion did we come up with?”
“Let’s see…six votes for gay, three for straight and one—Jeff—is afraid of you and didn’t want to vote.”
She faked a smile. “Wow. I got three votes for straight. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
“Guys—what do they know? They all think you’re too cute to be gay.”
She stood up. “Yeah…haven’t been called cute in a while either.”
“There’s also the rumor that you and Gloria Mendez went out,” Lori continued, still fishing for information.
“Is that right?” She gave Lori a friendly nod. “I need to get going. Thanks for the beer.”
She was conscious of the curious glances that followed her as she made her way to the door.
“Come back and see us.”
She turned, nodding at the bartender as she left. She’d learned—after Lori had been greeted with a hug when they’d gotten there—that her cousin owned the place. It was a local dive, dark and shadowy along the edges, but a pool table with a bright light overhead made it seem welcoming. There was even an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner, one that had been playing outdated country songs for most of the night. She figured she’d come back sometime. The house she was renting was lonelier than her apartment had been. Who knows? Maybe she could make some friends here. She had a vision of leaning over the pool table with a cue stick, lining up a shot. The only person she knew in town besides her own staff was Gloria. For some reason, she couldn’t picture Gloria at the Cross
Roads Tavern.
She got into her truck and sat there for a few moments, wondering—once again—if she’d been too hasty leaving Houston. She started the engine. No. While it may have seemed to be an impulsive decision, she knew that it had been past time to leave.
Leon’s death wasn’t the only reason she’d fled Houston…but it was the main reason.
She stared off into the darkness, picturing his face. In her mind, she ignored the ugly scar on his cheek, the scar that split his lower lip in half, giving him a permanent crooked smile. It was his dark, compassionate eyes that she remembered the most. Soulful eyes…tender and kind.
She took a deep breath, then blew it out quickly as she pulled away, Leon’s image fading from her mind as the warm summer breeze blew in through the opened windows.
Chapter Two
“So, you sick of me yet, Murphy?”
“Sick of your constant chatter, yeah.”
Tim laughed heartily, his bushy mustache lifting up as he smiled. “What can I say? I like to talk.”
That was an understatement, but at least it helped pass the time. Like most everyone else in the department, Tim had been born and raised in Sawmill Springs. And he, like the others, knew nearly everyone in this town of forty-five hundred souls. He’d introduced her around everywhere they went, and while she was greeted with smiles and handshakes, she could tell they viewed her as an outsider.
He turned into the parking lot of Knott’s Café. “You got a preference for lunch or is this okay?”
She looked at the nondescript, stone building situated between a car wash on one side and a self-storage building on the other. “The café again?”
“Thursday is meatloaf day,” he said.
“And Wednesday was chicken-fried steak,” she said, echoing his reasoning for stopping yesterday.
“It was damn good, wasn’t it?”