Page 64 of Living Hell

“This is my friend, Austen Goode. He was there when I signed the papers for the house. I thought you might want to speak with him, too.”

“What does that have to do with the men who took your furniture?” The sheriff lifted his right brow and I knew, one day, he was going to make a very lucky woman happy.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I was just, um . . .” Stalling. I was stalling because the man made me tongue-tied. He once asked if I needed help in the library in high school when I had dropped some books. I responded by saying the gym teacher was allergic to mushrooms.

“Wait, did you purchase the Dante Drive property three weeks ago?”

I knew my cheeks were beet red, but I didn’t care. Garrison Heart knew something about me, some factoid about my life, and that was everything.

“Yes, it’s a long story—”

Which I was about to start but the sheriff interrupted me.

“Actually, maybe I could talk to Mr. Goode. I got a lead on something and I’d love to discuss it with you two.”

“Yes!” I said and pulled Austen along before he could answer.

Garrison brought us back through the door by Edwina’s desk. It brought back memories from when my parents were arrested. There wasn’t a specific time I remember as they were both in and out of jail all my life. My mom was usually in for drugs and my dad for stealing.

They were parents of the year . . . in hell.

“Right this way.” The sheriff waved us toward the chairs in his office and closed the door behind us.

“I think we caught the two guys who stole your furniture. There were two men matching the description that the moving company gave us who ended up in the hospital in Bangor for poisoning.”

“Poisoning?” Austen said, and I swore his eyes were about to fall out of his head. I probably looked just as bad.

“Yes, which brings you here, Dr. Ferguson. They claim you poisoned them.”

I felt light-headed again, only this time I was seated.

“Me? Why would I poison anyone, let alone my own movers? I never even met them.”

I stared at Austen, pleading with my eyes for him to defend me. He was there. He even helped me pack up the place.

“I’ve known Tyler since I moved here two years ago, and I can attest that he would never try to kill anyone.”

Garrison held up his hands. “Look, Tyler . . . can I call you Tyler?”

I nodded absently as I pondered what my new life would be like in jail. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew those guys would take a shine to me. I was too pretty not to get a boyfriend in there.

Being secure enough in your masculinity to have a man-crush on a tough sheriff didn’t mean I wanted to be somebody’s boy-toy in jail.

“Tyler, you aren’t my main suspect. But, as per procedure, I will have to take you back and question you.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder.

Christ, this must have been what my father felt like. Was I turning into that lying cheat? Maybe this was punishment for lying to the world about Iona and me.

“Okay.” My throat was so dry it felt like I had swallowed sand, so I was surprised I had managed to squeak out the simplest of words.

“I gotta hunch about something. And I have never been wrong about my hunches.” The man winked at me and to my surprise, I felt much better.

“If you need to question Tyler, then perhaps I should come back for the questions about the property on Dante Drive,” Austen offered.

“That might help me with my questions. I can’t get into it now, but I do need to ask you first about the furniture.”

“Fire away.” I pointed my finger at him like it was a gun and winked back at the sheriff.

He frowned. I turned to Austen. He was grimacing, too. I guess I wasn’t cool enough to pull off the finger gun-wink combo.

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