Fulfilling Promises (Red Starr, Book Five) by Kennedy Layne Page B

the type of man to settle down. He was, but he wasn’t a man to settle …there was a big difference.
    Eventually they would have to talk about their relationship. Trigger had thought of her every day he’d been gone in this past year and a half, not quite getting her out of his system. There was something between them that time hadn’t diminished. She was right when she said his path wasn’t here in Amberton, but he now questioned something himself. What if she wasn’t meant to be here either? What if he’d made the mistake of leaving her here when he should have asked her to come with him to San Diego all along?

Chapter Eight
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    D evyn quietly set the glass coffee carafe back onto the burner. She’d already showered and dressed into a pair of white shorts instead of her usual jeans. She didn’t plan on working the bar tonight, appreciating Isaac’s loyalty to her and The Laughing Griffin. She’d thanked him last night, once again realizing his steadfast dependability deserved a raise. However, the bar was barely breaking even before all this recent mess started. God only knew what would happen now.
    Diesel was enjoying his breakfast happily while Trigger was still sleeping on the couch. She’d lost her half-hearted argument that he should go stay with his parents. Both of them were keenly aware that a murderer was free to roam the streets of Amberton. Normally she was very strong-minded and got her way, but she’d been too tired to argue the merits of her point. He had removed his shirt and was only wearing his blue jeans, one bare foot on the ground while an arm was hooked over his eyes. The afghan he’d started out with had fallen to the floor, but she didn’t walk over to pick it up. She wasn’t ready to face him this morning.
    Devyn had awakened in the middle of the night, hearing the shuffling of papers before she quickly succumbed once more to the dreams she couldn’t shake off. Some were good and some were bad, but at least she hadn’t woken up screaming as she had yesterday. The pain of losing Joey hadn’t lessened, but she was beginning to accept that he was gone.
    Joey hadn’t wanted a fancy funeral with a coffin and all, which was going to upset a lot of the folks in town…especially his friends. Instead, he’d wanted Devyn to throw a celebration downstairs in the bar to commemorate his life and remember him the way he was. She could do that, but not quite yet. She wanted the person responsible behind bars before she celebrated anything. Her brother would understand that, wouldn’t he? She would set his urn next to that picture of them playing darts and they’d all have one last beer with Joey.
    Speaking of which, the boxes of files they’d brought up from the Jeep had been put back together, although there were a few slips of paper left on the kitchen table. Devyn quietly pulled out a chair and sat down, careful not to spill her coffee. She picked up a pen that had been sitting off to the side, wanting to jot some things down before she forgot.
    Where is Joey’s truck?
    Where are Joey’s keys?
    The second question Devyn had written down had her itching to go downstairs in her office and look at Joey’s belongings that he’d had on him when he’d died. She would do that right after she finished this list.
    Where is Joey’s phone? Look at history.
    Who gave the police access to the garage or did the Staties have a probable cause warrant issued by a judge?
    Find out if Joey told anyone else he was going out of town. Maybe Grace or a customer?
    “Did you save me some coffee?” Trigger asked, his tone somewhat raspy from just waking up. Devyn had heard that tenor a few times and she struggled to keep her distance as she set the pen down on the paper. She stood up and turned, finding that he hadn’t even removed his arm from his face. Just how long had he been awake? “Or did you drink it all?”
    “There’s a cup or two left,” Devyn replied, walking to the counter to give