CHAPTER SEVEN
“Jeremy, I think it’s time you call it a night.”
Brynn swept her gaze across the empty tables, double checking that she hadn’t missed wiping one down after the majority of the crowd had slowly dissipated. It was going on one-forty-five in the morning, leaving only fifteen minutes before she closed the doors. Last call had been a half an hour ago, and Jeremy was still nursing his last drink. She’d let Kristen go a couple of hours ago, already owing her overtime for coming in early to try out a shift on her own.
The night had gone better than expected, allowing Brynn more time to cater toward her clientele. She truly wanted to know what would make the Cavern better in terms of service and a place to spend an evening rather than heading into the city. It would take some remodeling, but the full kitchen would allow for food other than short order items to be served for special occasions.
Everyone had been unanimous in having a live band on the weekends, as well as adding more pool tables and televisions to live-stream more than two teams on any given Sunday.
It didn’t surprise Brynn that Jeremy Bell was the last to leave. It had always been like that ever since she was a teenager. Jeremy was what bar owners called a regular.
“Is Whitney picking you up?” Brynn asked, trying to gauge how Jeremy was doing. She had maintained tabs on exactly how much he’d had to drink this evening, but his tolerance depended on more than one variable. It was highly unusual to see him nursing his drink. Maybe Doctor Finley had finally been able to talk some sense into the man. “I can look outside to see if her car is in the lot.”
“She ain’t here. She’s out of town for the week.” Jeremy didn’t sound too disappointed at that little fact. “Whitney is with that scumbag she’s been dating. What she sees in him is beyond me. Wasting her time is what she’s doin’.”
Brynn wasn’t about to disagree with Jeremy. His daughter hadn’t been known to have the best choice in men, with the exception of Noah Kendall back in the day. Since then, it had been one bad pick after another.
“I’m sure he’ll show his true colors sooner or later,” Brynn replied, wanting to give Jeremy hope. He wasn’t that bad of a guy, though he certainly didn’t wear a halo. “I can give you a ride home, if you like.”
“I truly appreciate that, Brynn.” Jeremy pushed his bottle of beer toward her before he stood from the stool he’d been sitting on for the past eight hours. She didn’t bother to ask him to pay his tab when he would settle up come Sunday. He and Tiny had agreed to that little arrangement years ago, and she wouldn’t break that tradition. “But I think some air will do me good. Before you know it, winter will be here and walking will be out of the picture.”
“Oh, don’t go skipping the rest of autumn. That’s my favorite season, you know.” Brynn swiped the bottle from the wooden countertop and poured the rest of the contents down the drain before tossing the dark brown glass bottle into the recycling bin. “There’s something about the change of color in the leaves that seems very peaceful.”
Jeremy muttered something about the fall season being anything but peaceful, but she must have misunderstood. He was out the door before she could ask him to repeat what he’d said, which was for the best. She was exhausted from doing so much paperwork and setting up additional interviews for the two waitress positions she’d decided to add on to her payroll.
Brynn began pulling out the plastic bag from the garbage can underneath the bar, drawing the strings together so that it would be easier to remove it from the large container. She decided to leave the bag until last, choosing to wipe down the wooden surface of the counter so that she could head upstairs to her apartment after dumping the garbage into the dumpster out back.
“What did you forget, Jeremy?” Brynn called out after hearing the front door open with a whoosh. The wind must be picking up, which meant a storm was brewing from the west. “Did you change your mind about that—”
Brynn shut her mouth with a snap of her teeth.
She’d expected to see Lance Kendall at some point, but his presence at this very moment was like a physical blow to her heart.
All the Kendall brothers resembled one another, but there had always been something special about Lance that touched her soul. It had nothing to do with his jet-black hair, startling blue eyes, and chiseled features. It also had nothing to do with his broad chest and muscular body, though that certainly didn’t take points away from his appeal.
No.
Lance Kendall was different than any other man Brynn had ever met, and that included her time away at college. He was the only one who ever truly understood who she was as a woman…the good and the bad of all that she was.
“Brynn, it’s good to see you.”
She hadn’t realized that she’d stopped wiping the bar and was staring in his direction with her lips slightly parted in surprise, but she quickly rectified her posture and allowed her usual barrier to slip into place. Life had come between them, and that was no one’s fault…but that didn’t mean the leftover pain didn’t still throb every now and then.
“Lance,” Brynn greeted him once she’d found her voice, tossing the wet rag into the sink before she made a conscious decision to meet him halfway. It would have been rude to do otherwise. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Growing up in a small town made things easier in the long run. Everyone knew everyone else, comfort and support were part of the package, and friendly hugs given as greetings. A neighbor was part of an extended family, and they all took care of their own. There were times, though, that type of familiarity was an obstacle…like now.
She still couldn’t bring herself to take that last step.
Worse, she stopped breathing when he did it for her.
Home.
She could have sworn she’d heard someone whisper the lone word into her ear, but she’d had to close her eyes when his warmth enveloped her. The sense of security he’d given her throughout her high school years returned out of nowhere. It wasn’t until now that she realized just how much she’d missed him. He’d been her best friend, her first lover, and yes…her soulmate for as long as she could remember.
Brynn tried to steel herself against the heartache that was bound to return, but instead, her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and held tight. She now wanted to capture this moment for all eternity, because this wasn’t real. He was a long-lost friend she hadn’t seen in a while. That was all.
She understood this brief flash of make-believe would dissipate the second his arms dropped from her waist.
She didn’t care, though.
She could be selfish just this once.
Brynn inhaled deeply, wondering how it was that a man could still smell the same after all these years. Flashes of him wearing a suit to their homecoming dance flittered through her mind. His intoxicating scent of rich cedar wood and warm ginger melted her soul as it struggled to remain intact and ward off the thousands of memories bombarding her psyche.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Lance said with a harsh honesty that almost had her believing he’d actually come back for her.
Her heart ached just a little more at his words.
Brynn squeezed her eyes tight in an attempt to break this spell he’d cast over her with just a simple embrace. She was quite proud of herself when she loosened her hold on him, took a step back, and managed to meet his genuine gaze of longing.
“Welcome home,” Brynn said softly, though she was sincere with every word. She even achieved a matching smile. He’d made it home alive, and that was saying something. How many times had she watched the news regarding servicemen and women not returning home to their loved ones? “Your dad has talked about nothing else since…”
Brynn winced when she realized where her train of thought had taken her. Mary Kendall died three years ago after a hard-fought battle against cancer. Everyone was well aware that her final wish was to have all her children back in Blyth Lake, raising their families together in a small town setting where family meant everything. Brynn hadn’t meant to bring up painful memories.
“You wouldn’t be willing to extend your business hours, would you?”
It could have been the way Lance had slanted his request, or it could have been the slight desperation she’d caught in his blue eyes, but her innate need to sooth his troubles won out over common sense.
Would anyone else have caught the slight tension in the lines around his eyes?
Even after all these years, she was still able to read him like a book. Which meant he could do the same with her. She would do well to remember that in the future.
“I can do one better.” Brynn brushed past him and walked to the front entrance where she turned off the neon sign and flipped the deadbolt. She would secure all the locks once he’d left after one drink. “What can I get you? My treat.”
“A shot of anything strong enough that will make what I just saw fade into oblivion.”
Brynn would have stumbled at his almost desperate declaration had she not been expecting something dire from the tension radiating off his body. Instead, she managed to gracefully make her way behind the bar where she grabbed a bottle of her best blended Canadian whiskey. Tiny always told her that nothing soothed a soul like a glass of Crown Royal XR, created from the last few barrels produced by the famous LaSalle distillery.
“Is this about the investigation into Sophia Morton’s death?” Brynn poured two fingers worth of the golden liquor into two glasses before pushing one his way. She was proud of herself that there wasn’t a tremor to be found in her hand. “Has something else happened?”
“You might say that.” Lance nodded toward the drink in front of him. “Thank you.”
Lance took a seat on one of the bar stools and slid his glass closer. He then lifted the tumbler and twirled the liquid around before taking a healthy drink. She wasn’t surprised when he tilted his head to the side with an easy smile as the smooth whiskey slid down his throat.
“I’ll be honest with you, Brynn. I thought we knew everyone in this town…what they stood for, what morals they embodied, and what they were capable of doing. Now? It’s like I’m still out there on the battlefield, not knowing who to trust besides those who I’ve brought with me.”
Lance didn’t need to explain who those people were—his family.
Other than that?
Something bad must have happened for him to question everyone else in this town. Then again, hadn’t she been doing the very same thing just this afternoon?
“What happened?” It was rare that Brynn ever sat behind the bar, but she did keep a tall stool tucked underneath the counter for when it was needed. She hauled it out and took a seat, instinctively knowing she was going to want it for the support. “You’ve only been home a couple of days. Don’t tell me you found a body, too.”
She wasn’t surprised when Lance’s right eyebrow rose in question, almost as if he were asking her why she hadn’t been by to say hello. Well, that worked both ways. Plus, she didn’t doubt that he would eventually make his way here—Tiny’s Cavern was pretty much all the nightlife Blyth Lake had to offer on any given weeknight or weekend.
Brynn joked with him about finding a body in his house like his brother, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe something that serious had happened again. They’d both known Sophia, even though it had only been a brief moment in time. And Brynn couldn’t even think of Emma without a painful slice to her heart. Had she been discarded in such a senseless manner also?
No, this wasn’t the time to use laughter as a way to alleviate the fear. Her jest had been inappropriate.
“I think Arthur Fetter might be responsible for Sophia’s death.”
It was a good thing she hadn’t been holding her own glass. It was currently secure on the counter, but not for long. The contents inside would give her the stability she needed to handle such accusations.
Besides, Brynn had to have heard Lance wrong, because Arthur Fetter was one of the nicest men she’d ever met. As a matter of fact, he’d sent her a care package or two back when she’d been in college. He was like an honorary grandfather to those around town who didn’t have one left.
“I’m sorry,” Brynn said with a shake of her head and a disbelieving laugh, indicating how preposterous that idea sounded. Unfortunately, Lance didn’t join in on the joke. “I thought you said Arthur was responsible for Sophia’s murder, but both you and I know that can’t be right.”
“Oh, I said Arthur Fetter, alright. I also think that whatever he did to Sophia, he did the same to Emma and numerous other teenage girls.” Lance appeared as if he wanted to throw up the contents he’d just downed, but he pressed his hand hard against his mouth. She was honestly speechless. They both picked up their glasses in unison and took another drink. “I found pictures in my basement of seven young women—one murdered, one missing, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to the others. My basement, Brynn. The house my parents bought me. I just can’t wrap my head around the idea of this.”
Lance drained the last of his whiskey, slamming the glass down and indicating he wanted another by waving her in. She wasn’t about to deny him this little bit of comfort. She also tried to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why photographs of teenage girls would be in the basement of Arthur’s old house, but she was coming up blank.
“There’s more.”
Lance’s declaration had Brynn refilling her own glass of whiskey. She set the bottle down with a thud and braced herself for another blow.
“I saw Arthur walking down Seventh Street the night I snuck Sophia and Emma out of camp that summer. I think that’s when he saw those girls and started to plan their murders.”