Chapter Six
The Mayor tugged on his jacket lapels. “I apologize for stopping in so late, Ms. Nash, but the City Council’s meeting this afternoon ran late.” He glanced at Mr. Lucas and acted as if he needed his permission to continue. “We were wondering if you would consider the job as sheriff.” He cleared his throat. “Until we find a replacement for Clinton, that is.”
Replacement? “You want me to be a temporary sheriff?” She almost knocked over the coffee cup on her desk. “I think… no, I deserve to be permanent sheriff, just like my father and his father before him.” Pleased she hadn’t stuttered, she continued. “I’ve worked hard for the last seven years to serve the good people of Kerry.” Not that these fat cats ever noticed.
Both men looked at each other as if she’d lost her mind. “But you’re a woman.”
Her mouth dropped open and anger grabbed hold of her, threatening to twist off her head. “You’ve got to be kid-kidding me. I could sue you for saying that.” She didn’t care if they fired her on the spot.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes.” She leaned forward and steepled her fingers like Clinton used to do. “Tell me. What does me being female have to do with the position of sheriff? I’ve broken up brawls by myself, handled the weekend drunks, and solved quite a few crimes in my time.” She glared at the Mayor. “Why I even stopped your cousin from beating the crap out of his wife, or don’t you remember?”
The Mayor held up a hand, his face turning pink. “Now let’s not get defensive, dearie. You know what we meant.”
Patronizing prick. “What will it take to make you realize I can do the job?” After her dad died, she’d carried on the Nash name of law enforcers. It was what she was bred to do and what she loved. She’d seen too much of the superior male attitude to bend to their will.
Both men looked at each other. “We aren’t in a position to discuss this right now.”
Smart of them to keep their mouths shut, but their attitude pissed her off. Jessie was tempted to walk out, but she loved her job too much to throw it away. These sons of bitches had no idea what it took to keep order in this town. “You do realize that you’re going to have a hard time finding anyone who would even want the job as sheriff.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
A sliver of panic shot straight to her gut. Surely, they didn’t already have a replacement in mind. Jessie put on her straight face, the one Nana always claimed could help her clean up at poker.
“If you want to replace me so badly, go ahead. But how do you think the Barton gas station job will get solved without my help? Or the grocery store theft? Or Sadie Palmer’s disappearance for that matter, not to mention Clinton’s possible death?” She was shouting by the time she got to the end of her litany. “And all of this has happened in the last three days. So fine, find someone willing to take this crappy job.”
They’d probably can her on the spot, but she was spitting mad right now and didn’t give a damn.
“You misunderstood us. We want you to keep your job as deputy. It’s just that we think a… well, someone with more experience should be sheriff.”
That was crap. She had nearly eight years of experience under Clinton’s mentorship, not to mention all the stories she’d heard growing up being around her father and grandfather. What they meant was that they wanted some good ole boy they could twist around their fat little fingers. She stared at them both.
The Mayor held up a hand. “I will admit it will take the City Council some time to find a replacement, but I’m a reasonable man.” Mayor Kreplick stroked his chin and straightened his already neat tie.
Kreplick leaned over to Peter Lucas once more and whispered something, but with his head turned, Jessie couldn’t read his lips. She hoped they were discussing the impending lawsuit she’d flung in their faces.
He turned back to her. “Okay, here’s what we’re willing to do. If you can solve all those issues you mentioned before we find a suitable replacement, the job’s yours.”
The smirk on his face told her he didn’t believe she had a chance in hell of being successful.
“Let me see if I have this right. If I find a missing person, capture a killer, and locate two thieves, I can be sheriff for good?”
“Yes.”
Great. Now all she needed was a Superman cape. No, make that a Wonder Woman belt.
These two goons didn’t know Jessie Nash. They’d thrown down the gauntlet, and she planned to win. “Fine, but I’ll need help.”
They looked at each other again, acting as if they couldn’t make a decision on their own. What a bunch of wimps. “Where are we supposed to find this help, if as you claim, no one wants to work here?”
“I have a friend who’s applied for the position as my deputy and comes highly recommended.” Jessie figured she would read the recs right after as she called the Macon Sheriff’s Department.
“Not that new man in town, is it?” He looked hopeful.
“No.” Though Dax would be a fine addition to the force, despite his need for control.
“Well, then.” The Mayor stood and Mr. Lucas followed. “We’ll give you three weeks, but not a day more.”
“Three we—” He’d said she had until they found a replacement.
They were out the door before she finished her second word. Well, wasn’t that peachy. But hey, if God created the world in seven days, she ought to be able to solve all the mysteries in the town in twenty-one.
Jessie prayed God wasn’t a multi-tasking woman.
* * *
Headlights blasted Dax in the face, and he darted to the other side of the tree before sliding to the wet ground. A car engine idled not ten feet from him, their lights blinding him. Damn.
“Oh, yoo-hoo,” sang out a distinctly female voice that he recognized as Ms. Mary Alice’s—the woman looking for alien love.
Relief washed through him, though he’d have been happier if it had been Jessie out searching for him. Dax stood and limped toward the car. The wind and rain had soaked his sweater to the bone, causing him to shiver. Margaret Nash rolled down the driver’s side window halfway. “Why Dax Mitchell, what are you doing out here in the rain? You could catch your death of cold.”
“It’s a long story. Can you give me a lift back to town?”
“Why of course. Hop in the back.”
Dax opened the rear door and spotted Roberta, the one who needed new curtains, along with Mary Alice. Riding shotgun was Eleanor, the one who’d flirted with him. On second thought, he might be safer with the killer.
“Move over, Roberta,” Mary Alice said, swatting her friend’s thigh. “Can’t you see Mr. Mitchell’s leg’s bothering him? He needs room.”
He didn’t want to get Margaret’s seat wet, but he saw no towel of any kind to sit on. “Mrs. Nash, not that I’m not grateful for being rescued, but what are you ladies doing way out here?”
“Looking for Sadie, of course. And please, call me Margaret.”
Her seatmate twisted around. “You can call me Eleanor, or Ellie for short.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Oh, boy. “I don’t know for sure, but Jessie might be in danger, so could we get going? I’ll answer all your questions once I’m sure she’s safe.”
Margaret turned around in her seat. “Jessie’s in danger? Whatever from?”
“I’m not sure, but we need to leave now.” He did not intend to scare the bejesus out these harmless women by mentioning a shooter was on the loose.
Margaret must have sensed his urgency because she put the car in reverse, did a three-point turn and nearly hit a tree in the process. She then floored it, sending gravel in every direction. The woman was a terror on the road, but he could kiss her right now.
In less than ten minutes, they arrived at the sheriff’s office, and the moment he spotted Jessie’s cruiser, the knot in his stomach loosened.
Dax couldn’t wait to get away from these ladies and see if Jessie was okay. The minute Margaret slowed, Dax jumped out, and raced for the office door, throwing a “Thanks, ladies,” over his shoulder.
This time when he went up the steps, he took all three at once. Leg pain be damned.
* * *
The door to Jessie’s office flew open and her heart did a somersault. Now what did the Mayor want? She looked up. “Dax? Ohmigod, what happened?”
Jessie jumped up from her office chair and raced around her desk. He was soaked through and through, his pants were streaked with dirt, and his brows were pinched as though he was in pain. But damn, the man never looked finer.
He held up both hands. “I’m fine. Just a little wet.”
“Sit down. You must be freezing. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” The poor man looked like he’d go hypothermic any minute. She wanted to strip him naked and rub her body all over his to warm him up.
Stop it, Jessie. Get ahold of yourself.
“Coffee. Yes. That would be great.” His teeth chattered.
“What happened?” She touched the glass carafe to make sure the coffee was still hot, but found it lukewarm. She flipped the switch to On and waited with her back to him, her mind reeling.
“I went to check out the mine area where Sadie was last seen, and apparently, I got a little too close. Someone shot out my tire and put a hole in my gas tank.”
She spun around. “Someone shot up your truck?”
“Yeah, and I had to walk back. Got about a couple of miles when your grandmother stopped and picked me up.”
“Nana was near the mine?”
“Yes, your Nana, along with her quilting group were trying to do a little detective work on their own.”
Jess couldn’t help but smile at the image of Nana quilting. “She plays bridge. She’d never have the patience to make a quilt.”
“It doesn’t matter. She was with her friends.”
“Did she say what she was doing out there?”
“Looking for Sadie.”
This couldn’t continue. “I’ll speak with her.” Her grandmother’s interference could get her killed.
“Jessie, listen.” His strangled cry cut straight through her. “I think you might be in danger.”
She turned back to the coffee maker to hide her shaking hands. “Why would you think that?” She poured the cup of coffee and carried the drink to Dax.
He took a sip, and his shoulders relaxed. Holding the cup in one hand, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “Someone obviously doesn’t want me snooping, and I’m fairly sure once you start asking questions, they’ll come after you too.”
“Criminals never like it when they think we’re onto them.”
“I won’t have your death on my hands.”
His sudden bitterness—or was it fear—startled her. “You’re exaggerating. You’re a stranger here. I’m sure that’s why you got the warning shots, assuming they really were warning shots and not just some hunter or—” She stiffened. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Dax started to stand.
She reached out a hand. “No. Sit. You said someone shot out a tire and hit your gas tank, right?” She took a step back and bumped into her desk.
“Yes.”
“While you were moving?”
“Hell, yes, I was moving.”
“Then I think we’re all in trouble.”