Redemption At Hawk's Landing. Rita Herron
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had been to call his family together and relay the news about Granger’s death, but he’d kept the information between the ME, his deputy, Mitchell Bronson, and himself.
Telling his mother and brothers would dredge up all the pain again.
He also wanted to verify the cause of death. Everyone in town knew that his mother hated Granger, which would no doubt lay suspicion on her. Truthfully on his entire family.
He wasn’t ready to deal with that suspicion or to throw his mother and siblings into the line of fire.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he climbed from his SUV onto the hot asphalt and walked toward the hospital. The morgue and ME’s office were located in the basement. Already the noonday sun was beating down full force and the temperature was climbing.
His phone buzzed. Dr. Weinberger. He punched Connect. “Sheriff Hawk.”
“Harrison, Honey Granger is here.”
“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. I just parked.” He ended the call and took a deep breath as he entered the hospital. The image of Honey Granger at sixteen with her golden-blond hair, big brown eyes and long legs made his gut tighten.
As a teenager she’d been pretty but homely, with her ragged secondhand clothes. The popular girls had been mean to her, and the boys had joked about getting into her pants. Two football players had made a bet to see who could screw her first.
A foul taste settled in Harrison’s mouth. She had definitely gotten a bad rap.
Oddly his little sister was the one who’d stood up for Honey instead of him. He wasn’t proud of that.
Chrissy had liked Honey’s flashy clothes, jewelry and makeup.
But their mother had forbidden her from hanging out with the girl, saying Honey was too old to be friends with Chrissy and that Honey looked like a tramp.
When Honey left town abruptly after high school, rumors surfaced that she’d gotten pregnant and had gone away to have the baby.
He’d hoped that wasn’t true, that she’d found a better life.
The air-conditioning hit him as he entered the hospital, stark against the blazing summer heat. He strode to the elevator and rode down to the basement, the scent of cleaner and antiseptic was strong as he walked down the hall to the ME’s office.
The receptionist waved him in. When he’d phoned Honey, she’d obviously been shocked at the news of her father’s death and hadn’t said much.
He had no idea what to expect today. Granger was her father and the only family she had left. He was surprised she hadn’t asked for more details, but everyone reacted differently to bad news. She probably would be asking now.
And he needed to find out the answers.
He knocked then eased open the door to Weinberger’s office. Dr. Weinberger stood and nodded in greeting, then Harrison’s gaze fell on Honey.
The teenager with the too-flashy clothes had disappeared.
This woman wore jeans with a silky-looking deep blue top and strappy heels that made her legs look endlessly long. Her hair was just as blond and golden looking, her big brown eyes smoldering hot, sensual, like liquid pools a man could drown in.
His gut clenched. Dammit she was...beautiful. In a wholesome, almost-innocent way.
“Honey?” He offered his hand.
Her hand trembled as she placed her slender palm in his. Heat rippled through him at her touch.
A wary look flashed in her eyes, and she rubbed her palm on her jeans as if she’d felt it, too. Then her soft lips pressed into a thin line, and a frown darkened her face.
“We were waiting on you,” Dr. Weinberger said. “I explained to Honey that she doesn’t need to make an ID, that we recognized her father, and DNA confirms it’s Waylon. But if she wants to see him, that’s fine, too.”
Harrison arched a brow, waiting on Honey’s response. He needed time to get his reaction to her under control.
Their past was way too complicated for him to be attracted to her now.
* * *
HONEY QUICKLY AVERTED her gaze from Harrison.
Good heavens. She’d thought he was cute when he was seventeen, but he was so handsome now he could bring a woman to her knees.
He’d morphed into a mountain of a man with big, broad shoulders, a muscular body, the deepest amber eyes she’d ever seen and an all-gruff, masculine exterior. His tanned skin and dark hair accentuated his high cheekbones, square jaw and the cleft in his chin.
He had dimples, too, when he smiled, although that smile had disappeared after his sister went missing. It was still gone.
In fact, his frown suggested he found her lacking.
His mother’s hateful words had been imprinted in her brain forever. “You’re trash, Honey Granger. You’re not welcome at Hawk’s Landing. My daughter is not going to associate with the likes of you.”
“Have you decided on arrangements?” Harrison asked, jarring her from the painful memories.
Honey shrugged. “According to Daddy’s lawyer, Truitt Bennings, my father wanted to be cremated.” She was surprised that her father had a will, but grateful he did. He’d left the house to her. Owning it outright would make it easier to sell.
She didn’t intend to stay in this town any longer than necessary.
“I can call the crematory for you if you want,” Dr. Weinberger offered.
“Thank you,” Honey said. “I’d appreciate that.”
Dr. Weinberger gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do you want to see him now?”
Did she? No. When she’d left town, she’d sworn never to see or speak to him again.
But some inner voice beckoned her to at least say goodbye. After all, he was her father. And he hadn’t deserted her as her mother had, although some could argue that drinking himself into a stupor was his way of abandoning her and reality.
She stood, lifting her chin and putting on a brave face. “Yes. Let’s get it over with.”
Harrison and the doctor exchanged an odd look, but neither commented. She almost asked what was going on, but decided they’d probably discussed her before she’d arrived. Gossip in small towns was hard to overcome. For all she knew, everyone in Tumbleweed knew of her arrival.
She lifted her chin. Dammit, she didn’t care what the people here thought of her anymore. She’d made herself a new life, and she was proud of who she’d become.
Still, their quiet looks made her uneasy and reminded her of the reason she hated Tumbleweed.
Dr. Weinberger led her from the office through a set of double doors past a room labeled Autopsy, then into a smaller space. She took a deep breath to brace herself, then followed him over to a steel gurney. The room was so cold that she shivered.
Her father lay beneath the draped cloth.
The ME stepped to the opposite side of the table. “Are you ready, Ms. Granger?”
She nodded.
He pulled the cloth away from her father’s face, but she didn’t react. It was as if she was looking at a stranger, someone she’d met years ago, someone who hadn’t meant anything to her. Age had turned his hair gray, carved deep lines in his craggy face, and he’d lost weight. The yellowish-gray pallor of his skin coupled with the bruises on his face looked stark beneath the harsh lighting.
“What happened?” she asked. She’d assumed it was the liquor, but his face looked like he’d been in a bar fight.
The doctor shifted. Beside her, Harrison’s breath puffed into the