Starting with June. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ friend/landlord, had returned sometime last night after June had gone to bed, and her house had still been dark when June left this morning. Getting answers about the new tenant would have to wait until lunchtime when June could swing by Madison’s office to see if her friend had any details.

      But on a positive note, June had managed to avoid Sam this morning. His cottage had been dark when she’d left for her prework run, and his Charger had been gone when she’d returned. If she was curious about where he’d gone at such an early hour, well, it was none of her business as long as he stayed out of trouble. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t see him all day. Nevertheless, she’d locked her doors last night and this morning—something she’d rarely done since returning to Quincey, and she’d silently locked Madison’s while her friend slept.

      The other two deputies were already at their desks. That surprised her enough to make her toe catch on the tile with a noisy squeak. Once in a while the chief beat her in, but usually she was the first to arrive. She liked coming in early while the building was quiet and then preparing and sipping her coffee while she reviewed files and bulletins that had come in overnight. She had a lot of ideas about bringing the antiquated filing system up to current-day standards, and her new boss seemed receptive to them.

      “Morning, Justice,” Alan Aycock, the oldest and most chauvinistic of her fellow deputies, stated.

      She’d given up long ago on convincing them to call her June rather than by the name her father and his cronies used. “Good morning, Alan. Mac. What’s going on? Did I miss a memo about a morning meeting?”

      “Nah. Chief hired a new man. He starts today,” Mac replied. “We wanted to check him out.”

      How had she missed hearing that? “When did he tell you that?”

      “Yesterday. You gonna make the coffee?” Aycock asked. “We’ve been waiting.”

      “You go ahead. I have to clock in and check the bulletins.” She ignored his sputtering and headed for the old-fashioned time clock. It was original to the building, which was only a few years short of historic. That meant it was temperamental.

      “What’s in the bag?” Aycock pestered.

      “You’ll find out after you make the coffee.”

      She heard him grumbling. Then his chair squeaked as he pushed to his feet. “Do I use four scoops or eight?”

      “Depends on whether you want to read through it or drink it.”

      She’d learned early on not to pander to Alan’s passive-aggressive personality. If he could get out of doing something by doing it wrong, then he would. But to her way of thinking, a man was never too old to learn new tricks. Like how to make coffee. And other than that and his chauvinism, he wasn’t a bad guy. He’d raised his two kids single-handedly after his wife had run off with the propane deliveryman. The kids had turned out all right. Both were on the high school honor roll. You had to give him credit for that and for being a fair deputy.

      “Hope you enjoyed your time off,” he groused.

      “Been a long time since you worked a holiday, hasn’t it, Aycock? Years? Right?”

      He stiffened at the reminder that she always covered for him and his complexion turned ruddy. “Yes. Which was nice... Time with the kids and all that.”

      “Thought so.” She went through her morning routine by rote, clocking in, then depositing the homemade donuts in the break room. The station door opened as she returned to the main room. Roth, the chief, walked in followed by Sam.

      Sam in a uniform identical to June’s.

      Shock glued her feet to the floor, and her stomach did a loop-the-loop up her throat and down again. It was small consolation that when Sam’s eyes—the first time she’d seen them without sunglasses save his DMV photo—fixed on her, the same dismay registered on his face.

      “Deputies, I’d like you to meet our newest officer. Sam Rivers.”

      Sam’s unblinking gaze held hers, then skimmed downward, taking in her badge, her equipment-loaded duty belt and her polished shoes, then returned to her face.

      “Sam, this is Alan Aycock, my senior deputy, and Mac Morris.”

      Sam’s attention abruptly shifted elsewhere. June used the reprieve to gather her composure while Sam shook hands with each of the men. But her break was short-lived.

      “You’ve already met Justice Jones,” Roth added.

      Sam paused a fraction of a second before extending his hand to June. “You told me your name was June.”

      His grip was warm and as firm as his accusatory tone. He held on a second longer than necessary, then released her, but the tingle traveling through her tissues lingered. “My friends call me June, but you can call me Justice or Jones since we’ll be working together.”

      A slight tightening of his lips was the only sign that he’d understood her insult. “Justice because you’re a cop?”

      “Justice was my mother’s maiden name. It’s Southern tradition to tag daughters that way.”

      “Jones is a native of Quincey,” Roth continued. “She’ll be showing you the ropes.”

      June’s and Sam’s heads snapped toward Roth’s.

      “Me?”

      “Her?” they chorused in horrified unison.

      “That’s right. Sam, you’ll ride along with Jones until you get a feel for Quincey. Then you’ll get your own cruiser.”

      “But, Chief—” June protested. Something dark and dangerous in the boss’s eyes severed her words. “Yes, sir.”

      Roth tossed her a key ring. “Jones, would you get Sam’s weapon and badge from the safe? The mayor will be here in a few minutes for his swearing in.”

      She took advantage of the excuse to escape to the solitude of the back room and regroup. Her day—heck, her month, her year, her life—had just taken a nosedive into the manure pile. Her obnoxious neighbor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Having him as her shadow was the last thing she wanted, but as the officer with the least seniority, she had no authority to complain.

      She was stuck, and she didn’t like it one bit. Maybe Piper—

      No. She would not put her friend in the middle and cause friction between the newlyweds. She would get through this. One way or another.

      Without shooting the new deputy.

CHAPTER THREE

      SAM FELT AS IF he’d been ambushed by his best friend and the betrayal stung. He stabbed Roth with a hard stare. “Can I speak to you in your office?”

      Roth nodded and strode into his space, closing the door behind Sam.

      “You set me up.”

      “No. I dropped you into position without bias so you could get a feel for СКАЧАТЬ