Page 39 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
“What are you talking about?” Cinnamon asked.
“The timing of when we started talking. Charity moving here. Her disappearance. And someone trying to frame me.”
Austin’s heart pounded out of control. He paced on the porch, glancing at his watch every couple of minutes. Yesterday, he had no desire to speak with Belmont.
Now he couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait.
“You need to relax.” Cinnamon stepped from the house and handed him a tall glass of lemonade. “Not only are you going to put a hole in those floorboards, but it’s not going to make this guy show up any faster.”
He set the glass on the small table next to the Adirondack chairs. “A million things are running through my brain and none are good.”
Cinnamon pointed down the long dirt road. “Is that him?”
“Looks that way.” Austin wiggled his fingers. “Why don’t you go inside for a while.”
“I didn’t take the day off work to sit on the sidelines.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t push me away because you believe I can’t handle what you’re thinking.”
“It’s not that.” He inched closer, curling his fingers around her forearms. “I just don’t want him to question you.”
“Why not? Maybe I know something but I’m not aware that I do.”
Shit, that made way too much logical sense. However, he still didn’t like the idea. Not until after he learned why Belmont had made the trip. The secretiveness about this haunted him. “That’s possible, but I want to talk to him alone first. It has nothing to do with hiding anything from you or not believing you can handle it. I want to understand what he has or doesn’t have before sharing my thoughts. I need to know what’s going on and Brad won’t or can’t tell me.”
“Fine.” She spun on her heel and stormed off into the house.
Fuck. That’s not how he wanted her to respond. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the approaching vehicle. Glancing over his shoulder, his heart ached. He hated that he’d hurt Cinnamon’s feelings. All he wanted to do was protect and shield her from what could be coming. Brad had warned him that the moment Belmont came unannounced could be the time he came with either a warrant to search or one to arrest. This situation was ripe for disaster.
Austin hadn’t done anything. However, he was the most logical suspect. He had motive and opportunity.
Tom did as well and had faced similar questioning from Belmont. It wasn’t until Tom and Austin decided to stop looking at the other as the bad guy and come together in the search for answers that they realized that Charity had been playing them both. She was only going to stay with whoever would give her the kind of life she wanted.
Austin had more money. He could provide the lifestyle she wanted but refused to lavish her with expensive gifts and let her spend whatever she wanted. However, he did cave on occasion.
The car.
Clothes.
But Tom had status in Boise. He was respected. He owned a business and everyone liked him. He might not have a bank account filled with a couple of million, but he did have the social life that Charity craved. Their love triangle became a contest that he wasn’t even aware he’d become a participant in until it was almost too late. But once he had, he’d given her walking papers and because she had her backup, she ran as fast as she could before Tom wised up to her game.
Belmont stepped from his vehicle and adjusted his suit coat. He always showed up in his standard dark suit and black tie. He looked like a typical federal agent. The first time Austin had methim, he’d been terrified, but that emotion came out sideways in sarcasm and frustration.
Not anymore.
“Good morning,” Austin said. “It’s been a little over a month since you’ve paid me a visit.”
Belmont nodded. “May I join you on the porch and have a little chat?”
“Of course.” Austin waved his hand. Most conversations were pleasant enough. It had only been the first two or three that had been extremely uncomfortable, or even painful. Belmont had a dry personality. His tone was even and controlled, but Austin could tell he cared about his job and this case in particular.
Belmont chose one of the Adirondack chairs, so Austin picked the one next to him.
“Shall we get right down to business?” Belmont asked.
“Sure.” Austin stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, doing his best to relax. “Do you have any leads?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Belmont said. “We got an anonymous tip that Charity’s car was spotted not far from Whiskey Ranch.”
Austin arched a brow but said nothing.
