Gritting my teeth together, I try to take a deep breath before responding. “Yes.”
“Listen, I’m not telling you I need to know this information because if you say there isn’t a problem, then I believe your word. However, if your old partner is bringing things to you that could affect the citizens of Bluebell Falls, I’d like to be, at the very least, prepared.”
I hear him, but all his concerned tone does is set me on edge. It brings me right back to over a year ago, when I failed one too many times. When I wasn’t capable of doing my job and had to resign out of sheer self-preservation.
“Oakley, I promise not to tell a soul. And I don’t need to know all the gory details, but at a minimum, I’d like to be informed so I can be here for you if you need anything. Hell, just to talk. The Task Force is no joke, and I know you’ve probably seen the worst of the worst.”
I scrub my hand over my face, knowing the right thing is to fill him in. I doubt any trouble will come to Bluebell Falls because of me, but Woodcroft showing up has me doubting all of it.
“I was the commander on a case, the Tennison Strangler case…”
Chapter 3
Willow
Is eavesdropping wrong? Absolutely. Is my curiosity stronger than my morals right now? Yep.
In my defense, I really did need to pee. When I passed by Oakley’s office and the door was open just a sliver, allowing Arlo and his conversation to be heard, I may have leaned against the wall to get the good gossip.
“I was the commander on a case, the Tennison Strangler case, and things went nuclear about a year ago. I don’t know if you’re familiar with it…”
“I am,” Arlo responds.
“The last victim we found was the worst. They were tortured the most. Honestly, death would have been welcomed. And it … it broke me. I had been on the Task Force to track down Alfred Tennison for years, and we never got close. He was always two steps ahead. Victim after victim wears on you, but seeing the aftermath year after year really wore on me. The fact that he leaves his victims alive is the biggest mindfuck out there. The last one, though… Something in my mind cracked. Icouldn’tbe on the force anymore. I didn’t know how to function properly. This guy had become my life, and I had the realization that I wasn’t good enough to catch him. And if I wasn’t good enough to catch him, thenthere was no point in staying on the job. So, I left. Woodcroft came to tell me they had a lead—the first since I moved away, I believe—but I sent him on his way. He won’t be back, and my past will stay away with him.”
A gasp works its way up my throat, and I slap my hand over it.
I never would have guessed he had a connection to the Tennison Strangler. When he moved here, it was random, yes, but he told us he was some big chef from New York and wanted a quieter life. No one questioned his background. Small-town people take a minute to warm up to people, but when they do? You’re in for life, and Oakley’s been in for almost as long as he’s been here. Everybody loves him.
I don’t even hear Arlo’s response because my focus turns elsewhere.
My head is screaming with the inklings of a story.A fucking story!Plot lines bounce around my head, characters making themselves known, and my fingers itch to start typing it all up.
I speed-walk back to my table before I get caught and open my laptop to start writing. I create a bible of sorts, plugging in characters, settings, and basic plot points. I make sure every little detail floating around in my head is documented, hoping it all adds up to a book.
The next time I look up, the sun is setting and I look around in a panic. Grind Time is completely empty, except for Oakley sitting at a table in the corner. I realize that he’s usually closed up shop by now.
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, Oakley!” I call over to him and start packing up my things frantically. I drop my pen three times before I calm down enough to pick it up and throw it in my backpack.
“I didn’t want to interrupt the flow you had going. It’s no problem, Willow.” The way my name rolls off of his tongue makes my skin prickle.
“You totally should have interrupted me! I’m sure you have better things to do than sit here and wait on me to come back to the real world.”My family is used to this side of me, the zoning out and losing track of time. Most of the time, I’m doing it in the comfort of my own home, so it’s not a problem.
“Nah, it was no trouble. I wouldn’t want to pull you from such important work.” His small smile—God, his smile, however small—makes my fingers tingle with the need to touch those plump lips. So damn useless on a man while I’m over here with thin lips that look like shit with lipstick on.
His words register in my very distracted head, and I snort out a laugh. “Important work, sure.”
Writing may be my passion, but I’m under no illusion that I’m making a difference in the world. I may have some die-hard readers who make me feel like I’m changing the world, but I write for me. Because I have to get these stories out of my head and throw them into the world.
He gives me a hard stare, like he wants to make a rebuttal, but chooses to keep quiet instead.
“Can I help you clean up?” I offer instead of pushing him to tell me what he’s thinking. He’s had a hard day from what my eavesdropping heard, so if I can help at all, I will.
“It’s already done. Thank you, though. I just need to wipe down your table.” He moves to the counter and grabs a rag before heading my way.
His imposing height should be intimidating, along with his bulky frame, but somehow, it feels like more of a comfort to me.
He quickly wipes down my table as I swing my bag up to my shoulder. Tossing the rag in the sink by the espresso machine, he snags the handles of my backpack before I get it settled. Like a giant, muscled teddy bear.Jesus … did my vagina decide to take over my life today?This is why I don’t come here often.
