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I stripped off my gloves, tossing them in the trash, and rolled my eyes.
“Besides,” he said. “I have your engagement ring in the safe. If you’d like we can get it from the house before we go eat lunch so we can avoid Martha’s prying.”
Jack was already halfway up the stairs, while I stood with my mouth open at the thought of a ring. A ring made it real. Not to mention I was terrified of losing it. I’d never worn jewelry before. It had a tendency to end up in whatever body I had cut open on my table.
“What—You already have a ring? How? Why?”
He paused on the stairs and looked back at me. “You’re full of questions today. The ring belonged to my great-grandmother and it’s a familytradition to pass it down to the oldest son’s bride. But if you don’t like it we’ll find something else.”
“No! Of course I’ll like it. I’m just—surprised. I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.”
The look he gave me wasn’t discernable, and he turned back toward the top of the stairs. I started up after him and had my foot on the first step when the boxes caught my eye. What the hell, I thought. It was a day for changes.
“Jack.” He stopped at the top, his hand on the door, and looked back down at me. “I think I want to move the boxes home.” I realized it was the first time I’d referred to his house as my home. It was still a new experience for me to think of sharing my life with someone. With sharing a house. “I was thinking I should start going through them tonight.”
“You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” And while we were going through the boxes—examining the secrets my parents kept—I’d tell him my father wasn’t really dead. And then we’d see what happened.
Jack nodded and started back down the stairs to lift the boxes. They weren’t overly heavy—about a foot deep and wide—and we were able to carry two each up the stairs and load them into the back of the Suburban. I got in the passenger seat while Jack retrieved the remaining box.
The drive to the police station didn’t take long. All of the municipal buildings were built in the county square, so law and order was equal in all four of the towns that made up King George County—Bloody Mary and King George proper to the north and Nottingham and Newcastle to the south.
The courthouse sat in the center of the county square—Gothic and intimidating—three full stories of carved stone and hallowed hallways of generations past. The goddesses of justice and mercy loomed at each corner, but unless you knew who they were supposed to be there was no way to recognize them, considering the sculptor must have been drunk and had a fetish for hunchbacked gargoyle-looking women.
The police station sat to the left of the courthouse, much more sedate in appearance—a pale bricked building shaped like a rectangle that hadn’t been updated since 1973. The fire station sat to the right, looking much like every other fire station in the state of Virginia.
Jack parked in his assigned spot in front of the station but left the motor running so I could run the fingerprints inside to Colburn.
“I’m not sure you should be using this space—which is clearly reserved for a servant of the city—while you’re on vacation.” I batted my eyelashes at Jack playfully and opened the car door. “There has to be some kind of ordinance against it.”
“If not, it’s probably your civic duty to propose one at the next city council meeting.” Jack’s gaze was amused.
King George County had a reputation of passing ordinances that made absolutely no sense whatsoever—like not allowing pets to be the sole heir to a fortune or not allowing people inside the city limits to water their lawns after five o’clock on a Thursday.
“You never know. In the next couple of months, this parking spot might belong to someone else.”
“It’s a good thing I’m marrying you for your money then.” I brought my legs back inside the car and closed the door. “Is it bothering you?” I asked. “The possibility of losing the election?”
“No. Not really. I’m more worried about winning the election.”
I watched him carefully for a couple of minutes, but he stared straight ahead, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. And then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. “You don’twant to be Sheriff.”
He shrugged. “I like being a cop. And being Sheriff here served its purpose after I left the city and came back to recover. But the politicsin this town pisses me off and it feels like I’m settling more disputes among the city council and the mayor’s office than doing any real police work. Especially since the investigation started on the Aryan Nation. It’s been a clusterfuck considering half the damn people sitting in seats of some importance have been removed or arrested.”
Only a couple of weeks beforewe’d uncovered a decades long secret in our small town of hate and prejudice, and it took the death of one of the ministers at the Presbyterian church for it to all be uncovered.
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been seriously considering a few of the offers that have come my way.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless. And embarrassed that I hadn’t noticed his dissatisfaction before. “God, Jack. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I don’t really have anything to complain about. And I’m not really dissatisfied. This is familiar and I have good men and women under my command. Sometimes I just miss the thrill. The adrenaline rush. It wasn’t an easy change going from SWAT in a city like DC, where business is booming and you’re living for that adrenaline high that each op brings. There’s nothing like it. But coming here—it was like doing ninety miles an hour and then slamming on the brakes. I guess I needed it at the time—mentally as well as physically—but it’s started to bother me more than usual lately.”
“I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his and squeezed gently. “You know I’m okay with whatever you want to do. If you want to make a change.”
He smiled and squeezed my hand back. “I’m not going to think about it too much for the next six weeks. Maybe I just need a break and I’ll feel differently once I come back. Or maybe I really am worried about the election. I’ve pissed off a lot of people since I’ve been sheriff.”
“Most of themare the single women who are going to be heartbroken you’re no longer available.”
