Whispers Under A Southern Sky. Joanne Rock

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       CHAPTER THREE

      I need background checks on every candidate.

      TWO DAYS AFTER his visit to Amy, Sam sat at the long wooden table on his deck and sent the text to Zach. He’d thought long and hard about where to conduct interviews for a sitter for his son, mindful that it could be problematic for a single man to hire an underage girl. He hoped like hell he got some applicants who were grandmothers. In any case, he’d decided to hold the interviews outdoors, in full view of the road in case nervous parents wanted to oversee the proceedings. He didn’t begrudge any parents the urge to supervise their kids. God knew he wasn’t letting Aiden out of his sight until he was twenty-one.

      Which was why he’d called for the background checks on the applicants. To keep Aiden safe. Zach’s digital security firm could unearth even more information than Sam’s police computers. It was a sad commentary on the tools available to a public servant these days, but knowing how important this mission was, Sam wanted the best possible intelligence on the four women he was interviewing today.

      Background checks on high school girls?

      The text flashed across his phone screen, delivering all the snark that Zach would have given the question in person.

      Do I need to remind you J. D. Covington was in high school?

      Sam typed with one hand and draped a blanket over the playpen with the other. He’d brought Aiden outside for the interviews, wanting to see how the potential sitters might interact with him. Not that ease with a baby was his number one criterion. Sam himself had possessed zero sense of how to handle a kid when his ex-girlfriend had handed Aiden over to him. But Sam had learned fast.

      It still floored him that he had a son. The past month had changed his life so drastically that he didn’t even recognize his house with all the baby gear. Plus he walked through his days like a zombie.

      But for the privilege of raising his own child? So worth it. He was just glad his ex-girlfriend had brought the boy to him when she was struggling, or he might not have ever known about his existence. His ex was a traveling nurse, and she’d left town without telling him she was pregnant.

      She might have had a tough time with it, but for Sam, who’d been raised in foster homes and had little memory of his real parents, being a dad ranked as the most important thing in his world.

      Something he never could have predicted after all the years where catching Gabriella’s stalker had been the priority.

      Point taken, Zach texted back. Send names when you’re ready.

      Sam was inputting the information when an old white Volvo sedan slowed to a stop on Partridge Hill. He could see the vehicle clearly since his backyard ran parallel to the road. For the last two years, he’d been the only one on this end of the rural county route, but now Amy Finley was living in the woods north of his place. He’d thought about her often since they’d spoken.

      Her reaction to his questions had accelerated his timetable for finding a sitter for Aiden, in fact. In his own hurt at leaving her that long-ago summer, he’d overlooked her as a potential witness. Something he would remedy as soon as he secured help watching his son. His foster mother had been helping him out while he was working, so he couldn’t ask her to pinch-hit other times.

      “Back here.” Sam raised his voice to be heard across the expanse of lawn separating him from the two girls exiting the Volvo. “You can cut across the grass.”

      He recognized both of them. Megan Bryer had almost been one of Jeremy’s victims, and her friend Bailey McCord had the misfortune of dating the younger Covington, J.D., who’d acted as his father’s accomplice. Bailey’s mother was also in jail for her role in harassing Megan, although Tiffany’s expensive attorney wouldn’t let her languish there much longer. The request for a bail hearing had been filed last week.

      Sam had never thought much of the pushy town councilwoman, although her husband seemed like a decent guy.

      “Hello, Sheriff Reyes,” the girls greeted him in unison, voices matching in pitch and cadence.

      He tried not to wince. Had he ever been that young?

      “Thanks for coming. Which one of you is looking for some extra work?”

      “I am.” Bailey McCord stepped forward. Blonde and blue-eyed, she was a pretty girl who—unlike a lot of the teens he saw around town—didn’t rush to flaunt it. She carried a purple binder with a matching pen that had a feather cap.

      “Great.” He pointed to the chair at the long wooden table he’d built himself last fall. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you about the job.”

      “Is it okay if Megan stays?” The pink in her cheeks suggested she was nervous.

      He knew he had that effect on people, but he’d never developed much of a knack for fixing it.

      “I’d be grateful if she did.” A thought occurred to him. “For that matter, I wouldn’t СКАЧАТЬ