“I’m trying not to overthink . . . go with my gut.”
“And your gut is pointing toward Texas?”
“My gut is pointing toward Zoe.” Something he never considered denying.
“Are you sure that’s your gut talking?”
“I felt like I was in stagnant water before Zoe and I got back together. I’ve never hated my work, or this town. Still can’t say I do . . . but with her back in my world, it just feels fuller. She’s a pretty big thing out there.”
“Doesn’t mean she can’t come to you,” Wyatt said.
“I’m not so full of myself to think I can’t consider going to her.”
“Wow, you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
Luke shrugged. “No, I’ve just given it some thought. I’m going to Texas to consider other options.”
“I’d hate to see you leave, but I get it.”
He didn’t think asking Zoe to return was an option. “So, Vegas . . .” Luke changed the subject.
They decided a mid-July trip would give everyone time to play and plan. If the women didn’t think it would work, they vowed to keep the date anyway. They were six beers in when they made their dedication, and both knew they’d change their tune if two of the three guarantee players backed out.
Luke walked home, not willing to test Jo’s friendship after drinking with Wyatt most of the night.
It was going to be a hard enough week for one of his best friends.
The anniversary of Jo’s father’s death fell on the week of the annual high school reunion for the second year in a row. He made a mental note to be around to help her get drunk or stay sober. Whatever she needed.
He flipped on the lights and opened the window in his kitchen. He didn’t need another beer, but he grabbed one anyway. He rang Zoe’s cell phone, knowing she’d be just walking in the door after a late shift.
“Hey, baby.”
“Richard?”
For a minute, he paused. “That was mean.”
Zoe laughed.
“I’ll get you for that.”
Jo stood on the sidelines of the annual high school reunion, watching the familiar ritual of perpetual lying.
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
“You look better than when we were kids.”
“I made a killing on the stock market.”
No one made a killing on any stock market in years. Yeah, the bullshit factor ran high when the alumni tried to impress their old friends.
Jo’s eyes scanned the crowd, determined to see something out of the ordinary.
“What has your attention so keenly focused, Sheriff?”
Jo jumped when Luke walked up from behind her. “Sneaking up on an armed woman isn’t wise, Miller.”
Luke gave her a wink and a grin. “You wouldn’t shoot me. I fix your car.”
“Ha!” She willed her pulse back to normal and turned her attention to the high school gym.
“Seriously, Jo . . . what’s up?”
She didn’t want to talk about how she’d been keeping an eye on any and all alumni who trickled through town in hopes of finding some clue as to who was responsible for her father’s death. She was convinced that if anyone had information, it wasn’t someone who still lived in River Bend. So watching the town visitors had become the norm for her every year.
Instead of saying anything to Luke, she kept up with the half-truths being passed around the graduates of a decade past. “I’m wondering which of these yahoos are responsible for the toilet paper dripping off my trees this year.”
Luke’s slow chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sure as hell is. Looks like whoever did it managed an even better job than last year.”
She’d woken up that morning with a sea of white flowing down from every tree in her yard. Seemed the reunion at River Bend High was accompanied by TPing the sheriff’s house for the second year in a row.
“Took nearly six months for some of that crap to get out of the pine tree last year,” she mumbled.
Luke scanned the crowd. “I don’t see any suspicious toilet paper sticking out of anyone’s back pocket, Jo. You might just have to stay up late next year to catch the culprit.”
Problem was, the previous year the toilet paper slaughter of her front yard had taken place the night of the reunion, and this time it had happened the day before.
“What is the sentence for toilet papering a front yard these days, Sheriff? Fifteen to life?”
Jo shoved his shoulder and scowled at his laughter as she walked away.
She was half convinced her team of friends was responsible for the stupidity dangling from her house.
Luke moved around the shop, returning his tools to their proper places and putting extra effort into clearing off the workbench.
“I’m starting to think you’re getting ready to leave here for good.” Luke’s father stood in the doorway leading to the office, a shop towel in his hand.
Luke glanced up before returning to the task of separating the metric and standard sockets into two different drawers.
“It’s just a few days.”
“A few days here, a few days there. How is everything with Zoe?”
Hearing her name made him smile. “Zoe’s great.”
Fred Miller took up space beside Luke and looked down into the toolbox. “Your mom and I have always liked that girl.”