Page 4 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
“No. I couldn’t. At least not while he was questioning you. I have to remain impartial. But I did go through your juvie record and the few fights you got into in college with him, which honestly makes you look like a hothead,” Brad said. “However, while I did that, I explained the situation.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That all had to do with my mother and my sister’s ex-husband. That bastard beat the fuck of Tina for four years and there wasn’t anything I could do about it but hit him back. So I did until she finally left him.”
“Thank you for that.”
Austin still couldn’t get over the fact that his big sister married Brad Logan, of all people. Granted, they didn’t come any better than Brad, and he was happy for the two of them, but it was still weird to have one of his best friends from high school as a brother-in-law.
“And for the record, I told Agent Belmont that there was no way in hell you did anything to Charity. That said, I’m still a cop and I have to?—”
“Save the explanation. I get it.” Austin understood what Brad’s position required. Brad had been the one who informed him of Charity’s disappearance and what that meant for Austin. “I’m just pissed because Tom gave a press conference the other day and he stated that he believes I murdered her because I went on some jealous rampage. It’s fucking laughable. The moment I found out about the affair, I realized I wasn’t in love with her.”
“But you moved her out here anyway all while you’re still in love with Cinnamon.”
“Don’t bring her into this. She has nothing to do with the breakup.”
“That’s bullshit and don’t try to tell me that you didn’t move back here in hopes of seeing her if she were to ever visit so you can help her leave that dick of a man she married.” Brad inched closer, waving his finger. “I know you and the one thing you can’t tolerate is an abusive man. Even if you didn’t care for Cinnamon anymore, you’d want to save her. It’s in your DNA and not just because of Tina.”
Austin didn’t need to be reminded of his shit father and what he’d done to his mother. He watched it. Lived it. Nothing was worse than getting a phone call while at college and learning your mother had been beaten to death. It had changed his world, especially since he thought his father had been out of the picture. His mom had promised she wouldn’t let him back in the house. However, his dad could be charming and she’d caved to his apologies and believed he’d turned over a new leaf.
Again.
“Cinnamon won’t even talk to me; trust me, I’ve tried.” He stared at his longtime friend. “I’m terrified about what might have happened to Charity and I feel responsible. I should have helped her move back to Boise. Maybe if I had done things differently, she wouldn’t be missing.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Brad rested his hand on Austin’s shoulder. “Everyone who knows you, believes that. But you have to stop being so combative with the authorities. I know you don’t trust us.”
“I have good reason not to have faith in most of you.” He raked a hand across the top of his head. “My mother called the cops how many times? And so did Tina. But that didn’t help them.”
“I’m not going to defend my department on why their hands were tied so many times with them, and so many others. Domestic violence is always tough, especially when the victims keep returning to their abusers and change their stories.” Brad held up his hand. “I love your sister and I know firsthand what she went through. I hate that my colleagues often had to walk away. I resent that I’ve been called to homes and have had to do the same thing. I also can’t stand that your good name is being dragged through the mud. But I need you to have a calmer, nicer tone when talking with the Feds. They won’t be going away anytime soon.”
Austin let out a long breath. “I can do that.”
“Good.” Brad nodded. “Will you be coming over for dinner? Tina is worried about you.”
“I’ll be there.”
“All right. I need to get back to work. See you in a few hours.” Brad turned on his heel and headed out the door.
Austin plopped back on the sofa and pulled out his cell. He found Cinnamon’s phone number. He always texted, never called, because when she did respond, it was obvious she couldn’t talk. “Fuck it.” He tapped the screen. When it rang, he expected it to go right to voicemail. But it didn’t. His pulse increased.
Three rings.
“Hello?” Cinnamon’s voice came over the speaker soft and sweet.
“Hi, Cinnamon, it’s Austin.”
“You shouldn’t be calling me,” she said.
“Why not?” He set his drink on the end table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re old friends and I just want to catch up. You know I moved back to the ranch, right?”
“I heard you were engaged. Congratulations.”
“Not anymore and unless you live under a rock, I’m sure you’ve heard what happened.” He didn’t need to say more.
“What do you want?” Cinnamon asked with a tremor in her voice.
That was a loaded fucking question, and one he wasn’t sure he knew how to answer. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy and safe and I’m not sure either of those things are true based on the weird texts I get from you.” He dropped his head to the sofa and closed his eyes. “Come back to the ranch. It’s where you belong.”
“I belong with my husband.”
