Staying For Good
Page 77

She lowered her forehead to his chest. “How am I going to do this? Everything I love is here, and everything I hate is here! Zanya is trying to protect my mom, and Zane is trying to protect our sister, and all I can do is watch it all fall apart.”
The pain in her words had him holding her tighter.
If there was one thing to drive Zoe away, it was her dysfunctional family.
He wouldn’t survive losing her again.
“This place is crawling with new faces.” Jo walked into R&B’s wearing civilian clothes and no fewer than two weapons strapped to various parts of her body.
Josie cleaned the counter in front of her with a big grin. “Great for business. I’m told there was a developer looking at property on the other side of Waterville, by the RV plant. Considering a housing tract.”
“Out here?”
“That’s what I heard.”
River Bend and Waterville were known for spec houses that didn’t sit in cookie cutter yards. There were two old apartment buildings in Waterville that nearly everyone had either lived in or partied in when they were young. The growth came in bits and spurts . . . or not at all. “I guess the economy is turning around.”
“What are you drinking?”
“Put something fizzy in a glass with lime. Make it look good.”
Josie looked at Jo’s outfit. “You’re on duty?”
“Like I said, Josie. Lots of unfamiliar faces around here.”
Normally, Jo’s concern for the safety of her town would result in a backhanded remark from the lady who owned R&B’s. Nothing happens in River Bend. We’re the safest town in the world. Nobody even locks their doors. Something . . . anything to make Jo think she was acting paranoid.
Instead, Josie saluted two fingers in the air and said, “I got ya covered.” Then she disappeared to take care of Jo’s order.
She was simply the sheriff in town to most people. A few of her high school acquaintances would justify calling her Jo when she was dressed down and sitting at R&B’s, which wasn’t something she did often, and not at all since Ziggy was back.
The man had completely changed her routine. Even running with the cross-country team felt like she was exposing herself to some kind of danger. Danger that had nothing to do with wildlife.
“Here ya go.”
Jo took her glass and moved from her perch of observation.
A couple of friendly waves escorted her as she walked to the lone pool table.
An entire group of men, probably in their midthirties, took turns rolling heavy balls into pockets with a stick. She didn’t recognize any of them. Turning at least one head as she walked by, she stopped in front of the jukebox and pretended to scan her choices.
Eavesdropping on a conversation was always difficult in a bar, but she managed.
“It will be like prospecting in the Klondike. Livin’ in our RVs for months.” Jo didn’t turn to see who spoke, she just swayed to the music and dug a quarter from her pocket.
“Don’t mind that. Get away from my ol’ lady,” another voice said.
“She won’t catch you boinkin’ a new flavor either.”
Laughter along with the sound of two balls colliding interrupted their conversation.
“I don’t see much around here to play with.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .”
Jo felt heat on her ass . . . the kind a woman feels when she knows it’s being stared at.
She made a selection and moved away without turning around. The last thing she needed was someone in that crowd picking up on her. Anonymity was her friend right now.
She eased around the back and waved to Buddy in the kitchen. “Looks like you’re gettin’ your workout.” The man was running like a real short-order cook.
“Yeah, how about you get that fancy chef friend of yours in here to help me?”
Jo laughed at the thought of Zoe in the back of R&B’s. “Good luck with that. See anything off around here?”
Buddy shot her a glance.
“C’mon, I know Luke talked to ya.”
He shoved something fried into the service window.
“I haven’t seen that guy everyone is talkin’ about,” Buddy said. “There are a couple of quiet ones that come in. Seem to be lookin’ more than drinkin’.”
Jo turned back around to scan the place.
“They’re not in here tonight.”
“Any particular day they show up?”
“When it’s busy. I’m guessin’ to blend in.”
“So the weekends?”
He rang the bell to get one of the waitresses’ attention.
“Seems like every night is a weekend around here lately.”
She tapped the counter. “Thanks, Buddy.”
Jo felt eyes on her ass as she walked past the pool table and again when she set her drink on the counter with a five-dollar bill.
Outside, Jo walked the parking lot with her cell phone in her hand. To the casual observer she might look like she was checking her messages, but in reality, the video function did a great job of capturing license plate numbers that she could run when she went into the station.
Satisfied she had what she needed, she rounded the back of her Jeep, heard gravel kick behind her with footsteps, and turned around with her gun in her hand.
“Holy shit, woman!”
The guy behind her was one of the men at the pool table. He had both hands in the air, his eyes leveled on her service weapon.