“Uh . . .”
“I’d really like to buy one. You know, so it can swallow me.”
“Well . . . I’ll have to ask Bob if we sell those.”
TWELVE
Bailey
“Good afternoon, Hart’s Inn. Bailey speaking.”
“I think you’ve done enough speaking for one afternoon, Miss Hartwell.” Jeff King’s deep voice rumbled down my phone line.
He had kind of a sexy phone voice, but no matter how sexy it was I wanted to hang up on him. “Jeff—”
“I’m on duty, so it’s Sheriff to you. Accusing a man of attacking you when you have no solid evidence for me isn’t the smartest thing to do in this town. Bailey, what were you thinking, mouthing off in the grocery store? Do you know how many calls the station has received in the last two hours?”
Feeling like an admonished child, my hackles rose. “Whose side are you on, Jeff, because I’m starting to worry about this town’s police force.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means your Deputy Jackass—sorry, Jackson—turned up at the inn this morning, took less than five minutes to interview my guests, and pretty much insinuated that I was making the whole thing up. It’s funny he would take that stance considering what good friends he and Kerr Devlin are. He couldn’t care less that I’d been attacked.”
The good sheriff was quiet and when he eventually spoke, I got goose bumps from the warning in his voice. “I suggest you keep comments like that to yourself, Bailey, and let me run my department.”
I knew Jeff. He wasn’t warning me because he was an asshole, far from it. He was warning me because . . . he knew. He knew Jackson was a slimeball. Of course he did. Was he running his own investigation into him?
“Well, here is a heads-up. Cooper will probably be in touch about Jackson’s attitude this morning. He and Jessica were at the inn when the deputy showed up and Coop wasn’t exactly happy with what he heard.”
“Got it. Now, let’s get back to why I called. Are you intending to continue to publicly accuse Devlin? Because I’ve got an airtight alibi and no evidence. Unless you’ve remembered something from last night that might help me.”
“No. I told you everything. And Dana Kellerman is lying by the way. She’s always hated me.”
“How did you know—” Jeff cursed, biting off his sentence. “Never mind.”
“Look, I promise I’m not going to say anything more in public. I’m sorry about today. I saw Jack and I was upset—”
“Yeah, well, apparently so was Jack.”
“What does that mean?”
“A guest at the Grand called the police. I had to send officers out because Jack knocked Stu out in the restaurant. Far as I can tell he went straight from the grocery store to the hotel to find Stu. Stu didn’t want to press any charges. Or Ian didn’t. Believe me, Bailey, if I could use Jack’s reaction as evidence I would. But I’ve got nothing.”
“Jack hit Stu?” I couldn’t believe it. “For attacking me?”
“It looks that way. Anyway, if you’ve got nothing else, I don’t know what else I can do. I’ll look into it a little more. I’m going to interview Mr. Tremaine again. And you get in touch if you think of anything.”
“Right. Thanks, Sheriff.”
“Stay safe, Bailey.”
We hung up and I reached for my cell, remembered it was smashed and that I needed to buy a new one, and started searching for my old phone book. I found it dusty and disused in the office, but in it was the number I was looking for. I just hoped Cat, Cooper’s sister, hadn’t changed it since however long ago I’d written it down.
She answered on the third ring.
“Cat, it’s me.”
“Hey, Bails, I heard what happened. Are you okay?”