"We'll get there," Jack promised. "Look at the bright side. It's one more black mark against her."
Josie nodded. "That is a bright side for us. I don't mean her any harm, Jack. I feel sorry for her because she screwed up her life. At the same time, simply because she has problems shouldn't give her free rein to mess up Alex's life. He deserves a chance for something better."
"I know. Come on, we need to get some sleep." Jack steered her toward the house.
"It's a shame it wasn't Jolene though," Josie complained cheerfully. "I really did want to nail her with one more charge."
"What happened to truth, justice and all that other stuff?" Jack teased.
"I'm human, and the bitch cold-cocked me," Josie complained. "Maybe she didn't spray paint my house, but she did physical damage to me. Are you available Monday morning? Jolene's extended twenty day evaluation is up, and I want to be in the courtroom during her hearing. We have the initial photographs of my injuries, but I want the Judge to see what she did to me."
Jack grimaced. "I have a meeting Monday morning in Lawson. I'm talking with Guy Rivers about investing in his business."
Josie looked up. "Guy Rivers of Turn of the Century Renovations? I know him. He helped locate some replacement parts I needed for the house. He's a great guy."
"How well do you know him?" Jack demanded.
Josie batted her eyes at him. "Well, enough to have dinner with him a couple of times... with his wife and son."
Jack let out a breath and gave a playful whack to her bottom. "Brat! I was going to have to annihilate him."
Josie laughed. "Jealous?"
"Absolutely," Jack grumbled and swung her up so her legs could go around his waist. "I'll call and see if I can reschedule, so I can go to court with you."
"Are you really thinking about going into business with him?"
"Yeah, but I want to work independently or at least in equal partnership. Architecture is an art, but also a business. I don't think I could stand going to work at a firm and starting at the bottom rung of the corporate ladder. Architecture is a mid-life career change, and I'm trying to combine my interest in unique buildings with my ability to redesign and renovate existing structures. I went on-line to ask some questions, and Guy and I got to talking in a forum. We hit it off, so we began talking on the phone. Now I'm going down to meet him in person and talk business, and we'll see how we mesh."
Josie hugged him to her. "Don't cancel. Clay will be at the courthouse since he was the arresting officer."
"I want to be there to support you."
"I know, but it's important for me to support you, too," Josie insisted. On the inside, she was doing a little happy dance. Jack was making permanent plans. She had not believed it when he said he was staying. Everyone left her. Why would he be different?
It was a long day in court. Continuous interruptions delayed what should have been a 10:30 a.m. court appointment until 2:30 in the afternoon. At last, they called Jolene Watson's case. By that time, Josie's feet were killing her. She had chosen not to wear her Sheriff's uniform since Clay Tucker as sheriff gave more credence to his arrest of Jolene. Instead, she had chosen a power suit from her agency days, a designer suit with a streamline cut and fit. It looked good on her, and it was softened by its light green color. She had deliberately chosen the suit because its pale hue emphasized the still black-and-blue coloring of her eye and face. Unfortunately for her, four-inch heels went with the ensemble. She had not tried to disguise or subdue her bruises with make-up. She'd been tempted to use makeup to enhance the dark bruises, but had talked herself out of it. They had good color photographs of the damage Jolene had done to her, which the County Attorney would enter into the evidence log. The only indication that Josie was an officer of the law was the badge and ID she had hanging from a chain around her neck. Technically, she still was an officer as she had not turned in her badge or been debriefed from her job since she still needed access to the office paperwork. She wore dark sunglasses, which she didn't remove until after the Judge entered the courtroom. She removed the sunglasses and let everyone get the full impact of her injuries.
She let the County Attorney, John Conard, handle the matter. Josie simply sat there, occasionally leaning against her hand or rubbing her eye as if she were in pain—fully aware she was playing the game as much as her adversary.
Rick Wagner, Jolene's attorney, had his client wear a sedate dress in pale pink with her hair styled in the manner of a teenager. The attorney and Jolene's mother sat beside her as Jolene tried to play the innocent, misunderstood victim.
It didn't work. The Judge took his time, read the reports and the sworn affidavits of the Rawlings Sheriff's Department, Jolene's statements, Josie's medical reports and the county's evaluation. He studied the photographs of Josie's injuries, asked questions and inquired about her recovery.
He asked the two attorneys if they had come to an agreement on a plea bargain. They had not. Rick Wagner presented his plea for a 30-day treatment plan and a time-served judgment, citing Jolene's past work as a social worker and her lack of previous police record. John Conard presented his plea and recommendation for 180-day treatment program, and 30 days in the county jail to run consecutively. Alternatively, if the defendant refused treatment, one year in Mabel Bassett Correctional Center with no early parole. He cited her recent aggravated-assault charges and her physical and verbal assaults on police officers. He went on to cite her witnessed threats against Sheriff Raintree, charges of driving while intoxicated, and testing positive for two different illegal substances.
The attorneys went back and forth for several minutes while Josie saw Judge Maxwell looking at her intently. She had spent some time in his courtroom before. He knew her. He took a 30-minute recess to review the reports and paperwork, and when court resumed, he came down on the side of the County's recommendations. Jolene would spend six months in a rehabilitation center although he did allow the 20 days in the County lockup for evaluation to count against her 30-day jail sentence.
"Long day," Clay Tucker said, driving away from the courthouse.
Josie kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. "I agree. Pull up to the Dairy Palace drive-thru. I could use a chocolate shake."
Clay smiled. "I'm partial to the butter pecan myself."
Settled back, and enjoying their milkshakes and the air conditioning, they talked shop, families and friends on the way out of Holbart. As they were driving out of town, Josie's head snapped around as they passed the Indigo Hotel.
"What?" Clay asked, looking over at her.
"Nothing, I guess," Jolene said, turning to face him. "I thought I saw someone I know. Have you talked to the mayor lately?"
"As little as possible. I avoid him like the plague," Clay admitted. "He's got a bug up his you-know-what about solving the Sandbox Killer case. I told him we didn't have the time, the manpower or anything else to take on a crime like that, but he's not listening. Thank God he doesn't have the gumption to try to solve it himself. He could get into a mess of trouble. Maxine Galvin says he's still getting phone calls from that California producer who wants to make a movie about the case."
"Oh, I'd like to be there if Aiden proposes that to the town council." Josie laughed. "Mrs. Freeman will eat him alive!"
Clay chuckled.
"How can they make a movie when there aren't any details available?" Josie asked, shaking her head. "Some people simply live off the misfortune of others. I cannot imagine the families of those poor girls wanting to see their deaths made into a movie. If the producers are determined to do it, though, I don't see how anyone could stop them. I'll tell you one thing, if they think they're going to film in Rawlings, we'll send their butts packing!"
Clay nodded. "The mayoral election isn't for another two years, but Maxine, you know she's my first cousin, says there's been some talk over at the town hall. Several town council members want Aiden out before that. They gave him a lot of slack when he took over for Mrs. Roland, mainly bec
ause they knew she was still running the show. However, since she had to go into that home, they think he's doing a lousy job. That isn't my opinion, but that of council members. You know Maxine doesn't mean any harm, but she is a gossip. Aiden has missed a lot of work lately. He comes in late, leaves early, and doesn't bother telling anybody where he's going. Maxine says he's not answering his phone now. He told Addie Carr, the receptionist, to let his calls go to voicemail. Maxine thinks Aiden's got himself another girlfriend. He does seem to go through them real quick." Clay briefly shifted his eyes off the road and over toward his companion. "He was tagging along after you for a while."
Josie smiled, but she made no comment. Aiden Roland had indeed pestered her for several months to go out with him after she had returned. The truth was while Aiden was a nice enough guy, he held no appeal for her. She did agree with the counsel. He was not a good mayor. He was a delegator, always wanting to push decisions that needed to be made either up or down the ladder of command. But because she wasn't attracted to him as a man, didn't mean he was unsuccessful with women. It was quite the opposite. He was a good-looking man and spent a lot of time with the ladies. In fact, she'd just seen Aiden going into the Indigo Hotel with a dark-haired woman.
Josie stood in the doorway of her library and watched as Jack stood staining the library shelving units they had installed over the weekend. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt that outlined every muscle of his chest. His jeans hung low pulled down slightly by a heavy leather carpenter's belt. She admired him for a long minute before letting out a low wolf whistle. He turned, and his eyes lit up. He returned the whistle and did a little twirling motion with one finger.
She gave a slow half turn, wiggled her butt and looked provocatively at him over her shoulder.
He grinned. "Nice legs, Doll, but you'll have to leave before my better half gets home. She's the jealous type, and she packs a gun."
"Does she?" Josie said, crossing the room, leaning over and giving him a kiss. "Does she mind sharing?"
"No, but I do," Jack responded, capturing her mouth and devouring it.
"Whoa." Josie stepped back and put a restraining hand against his chest. "I have to get changed and if you get one spec of stain on this suit, I will pull a gun on you."
"Tempting," sighed Jack, letting go of her. "Leave the heels out. I've never seen you in high-heels, and I like them… sexy momma!"
Josie laughed. "Typical guy," she taunted.
A few minutes later, Josie was back looking like herself in faded jeans with a tank top and cowboy boots. "These bookshelves look wonderful. How was your meeting with Guy Rivers?"
Jack finished the last few strokes on the unit he was staining, tossed his brush into a container of solvent cleaner and put the lid back on the varnish. "We seem like a good match. We're going to try a few partnership contracts before making any final decisions about a formal partnership. His business is growing so fast that he needs a partner, especially since he's not willing to sacrifice his family time for the business. He's taking on a renovation and restoration project in Carnegie where there are big bucks involved. The client says they like the idea of an old home, but what they are telling him, is that they want a perfect, new build-to-spec house. We need to come up with a design that gives them the modern updates they want without destroying the integrity of their one-hundred-and-ten-year-old property. How did your day go? What happened at the court?"
"Jolene Watson is going to rehab for the next six months followed by ten days of jail time. The Judge did not buy her 'poor, pitiful me, I'm a first-time offender, please-feel-sorry-for-me and give-me-a-break' act. He was all over her for verbally and physically assaulting officers of the law."
"Good. Alex called. He wants to come home. I tried to smooth things over, but we're probably going to have to take a trip to camp this weekend."
"I can't go to his camp looking like this," Josie said pointing to her face. "This is not going to reassure him."
"Be straight with him."
"Maybe we can go next weekend. I should be able to cover up the remaining bruising with makeup. I'll return his call on that number he gave you. I'll also locate his mother through the county sources and find out where they put her this time." Josie nervously moved around the room wanting to change the subject. Jack was a stickler about the truth, almost so much that it was nearly an obsession. She didn't have a problem with stretching, bending or maneuvering the truth a little to fit her needs. She didn't have a problem with a little lie when it was necessary to avoid hurting someone's feelings. It wasn't like she lied in her professional life—that she didn't do, ever. She needed something to divert Jack's attention before she got another lecture on what were only little deviations of fact.
"We need something on that short wall by the door."
Jack followed her pointing hand. "What?"
"Not another shelving unit, something more feminine. The shelving units, the coffered ceiling, even the light fixtures are all very masculine. This room needs a touch of something lighter."
"What other furniture pieces are you bringing in?" Jack asked.
"I'm planning on a large desk between the windows, somewhat masculine, but not a perfect match for the shelving—something solid in mahogany if I can find an old piece that pre-dates mahogany being an endangered wood. I want twin loveseats or large chairs with ottomans facing the fireplace, preferably leather in a light tan or a faded parchment color, solid but comfortable. I think a large flattop trunk for a coffee table between them along with a table of some kind in that corner. I haven't got the stuff yet, but that's how I see it in my head. I want this room to look like it's been here a hundred years, loved and used."
Jack was nodding his head. "Take a ride with me."
"Where?"
"My surprise."
Josie followed Jack out as he got into her truck. "I love surprises."
He grinned, spun gravel and drove a short distance to the opposite end of town where he turned down a side street and pulled into Winstead's Storage Units. He punched a combination into the automatic gate and drove inside, parking beside a huge unit. He opened the overhead door and pushed it up out of the way, flipping on the lights. Walking down a long hallway, he unlocked another overhead door and slid it up. Inside were a dozen or more pieces of antique furniture and a few lamps that could have been Tiffanys.
"This is some of your parent's stuff," Josie guessed. "Oh, I remember some of these things from when I was in there cleaning the place up."
"These are some of the pieces that my mother liked or at least that I associate with her," Jack agreed. He weaved his way to the back of the storage unit and pointed to a tall inlaid secretary.
"Oh, yes, I remember this, it's beautiful! I thought you got rid of all the furniture in the house."
"I trashed some of it. Most of it I sold to an antique dealer. These were the pieces I kept. I don't know how old this is, but it was one of her favorite pieces. It's Italian inlaid marquetry, and according to my research, dates back to the 1890s. I had to look it up on the Internet. You can have it for that short wall. It has the feminine touch you wanted. You can have any or all of these pieces."
Josie bit into her lip. "You're staying."
Jack frowned. "I thought I made that clear. Yes, I'm staying. Why would you think I wasn't?"
She sighed. "Experience. Everyone leaves me."
Jack gathered her in his arms, strong and tight, and forced her chin up, so she had to look at him. "I'm not leaving, Josie. Not ever again, I'm here for the long haul."
"I want to believe it," she whispered and yelped when Jack smacked her hard on her bottom.
"Believe it! You're mine. You've always been mine, and I'm not letting go of you again," Jack promised.
Josie had barely nodded when he took her breath away kissing her long and hard. His hands were groping, pulling at her tee shirt, releasing her breasts, suckling them, and making her ache with need.
"Jack," she moaned. "What if so
meone comes in?"
"The brothers don't work on Mondays. A whistle goes off when the main gate locks are activated. If someone arrives, we'll know. This place is quiet during the week."
"Good," Josie gasped as Jack unsnapped her jeans, yanked them down and cupped her mound, thrusting his fingers inside pumping fiercely. He was all over her as she struggled to pull off his shirt and unbutton his jeans. She kicked off her boots and jeans and jumped him, winding her legs tightly around him.
Jack backed up and raised his head only long enough to focus on a suitable flat surface in the storage unit. He carried her over to a kidney shaped writing desk where he laid her down. She was desperately trying to release him and have him inside her, but he was not ready for that yet. He spread her legs, grasped her hips and lowered his mouth to her sex.
He devoured her, and she reveled in every second of it. Jack's tongue was relentless and magical. He suckled her and tortured her clit until she begged for release. When she thought she was about to lose her mind, he released his cock and entered her in one long hard thrust clear to his balls. She exploded, but he was not anywhere near being done. Those magical fingers went to work on her clit again, while his tongue went after her breasts. He brought her to orgasm over and over, each time thrusting into her deeper and harder. She wanted to feel him let go when suddenly he yanked out of her, flipped her over, leaned her over the desk and thrust back into her from behind. She was coming again, and this time so was he! It was a collision of orgasms, hers and his together—wet, hot and deliciously sensuous. The intensity of the moment left her quivering with spent passion and the desire to keep him inside her forever.
Jack shifted back. He moved her around to face him and sat down on the desk, pulling her onto his lap, mingling skin wet with sweat and the smell of sex.
"Never doubt me again, Josie, never," Jack breathed. "I'm never leaving you."
Living with Jack was not dull, and sometimes it got loud. Both of them had short-fused tempers, and both of them yelled. It was great sex one moment and huge arguments the next.
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