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“Thank you,” he murmured.
His aunt smoothed her sweater, nodding in acknowledgment. “I’ll go tell the cook that we’ll be having hot chocolate in the sunroom.”
Garrett raised his brows. “Make mine Irish. I think everyone old enough to vote could benefit from one.”
Phil huffed, not quite laughing but close enough for him. “You’re not wrong.”
Chapter Sixty
GARRETT
The pines crowded the car as he drove, making the stretch of woods darker than it should have been at this hour of the afternoon.
It was easy to imagine it at night, the moonlight fighting a losing battle to illuminate the dirt tract.
Garrett gripped the wheel of his rented Range Rover, wondering where exactly on this godforsaken road Emma had been run down.
“Asked and answered,” he growled to himself as he spotted Sheriff Warner’s 4x4 parked a few dozen yards ahead.
He slid his vehicle behind him, a short stretch with room for a shoulder on what was a wide single-lane track this deep in the woods.
The sheriff waved as he approached.
Jesse Warner had always dressed the part of local law enforcement, favoring jeans and plaids even in his off time when Garrett used to live here. But he’d leaned hard into the sheriff persona since, adding boots and a Stetson to his repertoire.
Garrett stuck out his hand to shake but the sheriff bypassed it, giving him one of those backslapping hugs peculiar to overcompensating men everywhere.
“Thank you for taking time out of your day to see me,” Garrett said, pulling away as soon as it was polite.
Jesse tipped the hat back a notch. “It’s not a problem. I had some time this afternoon.”
But his expression didn’t match the easy words. Or that hug.
“I haven’t been back here since college,” he said. “I appreciate you showing me the scene.”
“Of course.” Jesse shifted his weight, sticking his thumbs in the belt loops. “But before we start, I need to ask—is it true? What I’m hearing about you and Emma?”
If Phil heard, it made sense that Warner had too. The small-town grapevine worked at the speed of light.
Garrett nodded, unable to help the satisfaction from creeping into his expression.
“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t lead with that. I was waiting to tell my aunt before spreading it around town. Emma and I are married now. If it hadn’t been for her accident, we would have been married all this time. That’s why I’m so invested in learning everything I can about it.”
He explained to Jesse what Emma had been doing on this road that night, their fight, and how he’d made the mistake of his life leaving town the next day.
Jesse whistled, scratching his head. “That’s quite a story. But it’s good that you and Emma were able to work it out.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, although he felt that simple summation downplayed the hand of fate. Emma coming back into his life was nothing short of a miracle.
“Can you walk me through the accident?” he asked. “And what happened after?”
The other man jerked as if Garrett had interrupted some deep thought.
“Yeah, sure.”
Jesse moved to the middle of the road, his posture altering subtly as he shifted into sheriff mode. He gestured south, in the direction of the former Mendez home.
“The night of the accident, Mariana had gotten out of work around eleven to find Emma gone. She left a note, but midnight rolled around and Mariana still hadn’t heard from her. That was late for Emma, soMariana started texting, offering to pick her up. They only had one car—that gray Corolla, remember?”